Page 75 of Seeking Shadows

“I understand that feeling, Mia,” Zane whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “The worst abusers are the ones who wrap you in soft promises, weaving invisible chains around your heart until you mistake control for care, imprisonment for love.”

Yes, exactly. He understands me. Zane understands me like no one else. It’s bizarre—how we function as if we’re made of the same material, even though we’re nothing alike. Different in every way, yet it feels like we're two halves of the same broken whole.

“The nightmares started as soon as you left.”

My chest tightens. I know he’s talking about the time we spent apart. In his mind, it was abandonment.

“But I came back.” My voice comes out soft, fragile. “Or rather, you made a point of coming after me.”

He doesn’t answer.

He just stands there in the darkness, the blue light casting jagged shadows across his tired face. His stillness hurts. I want to reach for him, to close the space between us. I need to.

“I’m fucked up in my head, Mia.” His voice breaks in a way that makes my heart twist. “It took me a year just to touch you. But now... now that I have, it’s like I need this. I need you to pull me out of the dark, out of whatever hell my mind has sunk into. I need you like I need to breathe, sweet chaos.”

"I..." My throat tightens, words dying on my lips. "I just wanted to..."

My fingers brush his skin—tentative, a touch so light it feels like a spark.

He doesn't pull away. Doesn’t move. Just watches me with that haunted look, like he's afraid if he blinks, I’ll disappear.

I climb slowly onto the bed. The space between us buzzes with tension. His body is rigid, taut like a wire about to snap, but he lets me in. That alone is a miracle.

“Mia...” he breathes, and there’s something wrecked in his voice.

“Let me stay,” I whisper, almost begging. “Just for a little while.”

“You don’t need to ask,” he says, voice hoarse. “You live in me now. It’s already permanent.”

I move closer. I can feel the heat rolling off his body, the tension humming between us like static. My hands slide over his shoulders, trembling, searching. When I reach the back of his neck, he exhales—shaky, like he’s barely holding himself together.

And then—his hands are on my waist. Uncertain. Searching. As if he’s still afraid to need something this much.

I hold still. And wait.

Then he pulls me into his lap, and I feel him—hard, straining against the fabric of his shorts, no boxers. My core clenches, already aching, already soaked with want. I rock my hips gently, dragging wet heat over him. His breath stutters, mouth parting with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he mutters, like he’s dying. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you?”

My panties are soaked. I grind against him, desperate for friction, and he growls low in his throat. Then his fingers hook under the lace, dragging it to the side, exposing me to the thick pressure of his cock.

He grips my hips tighter, thumbs pressing bruises into my skin.

“Every second you’re not around, I can’t fucking breathe,” he groans. “I need to be inside you, Mia. I need to feel you. Not just your skin—you.”

“Zane…” I whisper, dizzy with want.

“You drive me insane,” he rasps, hips thrusting up, cock rubbing against my slick folds. “I can’t fucking sleep, can’t think without this. Without you. I’m not okay unless I’m buried inside you.”

I moan, and his mouth crashes into mine, desperate, messy, teeth clashing. He kisses me like he’s starving, like I’m the only thing that can keep him alive. His big hand wraps around my throat, firm but reverent, grounding me there. Holding me like I’m the only real thing in his world.

“I swear, I could die like this,” he groans into my mouth. “Just like this. Fucking losing myself in you.”

And then, without warning, he thrusts into me—deep, thick, stretching me open. I cry out, clutching at his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin.

“Fuck—Mia—you feel like heaven,” he chokes. “So tight. So fucking warm. I could stay here forever. Never leave. Just live in you.”

I ride him slowly at first, savoring the stretch, the drag of him inside me. But it builds fast. The need, the desperation. It takes over.

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