Page 70 of From the Ashes

“Please,” I whimper, pawing at his shoulders and tugging at his hair. “Please, baby. I’m ready. I need you now, so badly.”

Mercifully, he immediately listens to me, pulling back and finding the lube to drizzle over his hard length and into my crack. I don’t need this to last all night. We have the rest of our lives together. But I do I need him now and I need himhard.

That’s why he’s my person, my soul. He knows exactly what I’m craving, and he gives it to me. Within moments, he’s thrusting deep inside me, nailing my prostate the perfect way to make me scream and lose my mind. The intrusion is almost too much for my body. I’m so full, so overwhelmed. But I know it’s Zahir and I can trust him with my heart, body, and soul, so I let go, allowing him to drive us toward our bliss.

“Colt,” he mutters between kisses. He’s being careful of my leg, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t digging his fingers into my ribs and biting my lower lip.

“Yes, yes, yes!”I chant. “Are you close? I need…I’m going to…”

He wraps his hand over my cock and tugs. I wail, knowing it’s not going to take much.

“I want to see you come, beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear.

How can I refuse?

My knee brace reminds me not to dig my heels into the mattress, but I still arch my spine as my climax crashes through me like a great wave. I cling to Zahir, loving how he bellows with his head dropped back, shooting his load inside me like he wants to mark me and claim me.

Like he wants to breed me.

After we’ve collapsed into a heap of sweaty, tangled limbs, he eventually pulls out of me and stumbles to the en suite to fetch us a warm, damp cloth to clean up with. Again, that’s usually my job, but since my injury I’ve accepted that it’s quite nice when Zahir does this job, and today in particular I bask in the role reversal. There are cherry blossom petals stuck all over me and despite my best efforts, my shin is aching like a bitch.

The moment couldn’t be more perfect.

Once the essentials have been mopped up, I pull myfiancéback down with me on top of the duvet and kiss his forehead. It’s funny that the breeding image isn’t shaking from my mind. I don’t think I’ve uncovered a new kink. Rather, it’s jostled up something I’ve been pondering for a while now.

“Zahir,” I say seriously as I stroke his back. He hums to show he’s listening. “Before we get married, there are a couple of things we might want to check.”

He lifts his head and smiles sleepily at me. “You want to negotiate the contract?” he teases.

I shrug, but he’s not wrong. “I was hoping we could move in together. Whatever I end up doing, my salary will probably take a big hit. But I still have an insane amount of savings for a deposit.”

He nuzzles our noses together. “I don’t need a big house,” he says. “We will probably need a pond for the fish, though. And maybe space for a dog?”

I smile. “I was pondering that, too. But, um, the house. How many bedrooms?”

My heart is racing again as I watch his reaction. Initially, he just looks curiously. “Well, one for us and one for guests, I suppose?”

“What about more bedrooms for not-guests?” I ask, my mouth dry. “What if I was thinking about…kids?”

In all the years I’ve known Zahir Delacroix, I don’t reckon I’ve ever seen his eyes go so wide, not even just now when I proposed. “I didn’t think you wanted children,” he whispers.

I take a deep breath and cup the side of his face. “I didn’t. To me, kids were a burden, or things you created to manipulate. But I feel differently now. I think…I think we’d be amazing dads. But I keep going and over it, and I don’t care about bloodlines or whatever. In fact, ego’s the thing I hate most about the whole idea. If you’re open to it, I’d want to adopt. There are so many kids who aren’t loved enough, and I just know we could give that to them. I’m not talking right now, obviously, but…someday. That’s where I see us down the line. I just thought I’d check that fit with you.”

For several moments, he simply stares at me as his eyes fill with tears. Eventually, he sobs as his face splits into a beaming smile, then he gathers me up in the tightest hug imaginable.

“That would be the greatest honor of my life, Habibi.”

I’m not ashamed to say that special little word makes me lose it. I cling to him and laugh and cry until I feel sick.

Zahir Delacroix is going to be my husband. He wants to have children with me. And for the first time in our long history together, he dared to call me his habibi, his darling.

Nothing in my life has turned out the way it was planned.

And yet it’s absolutely perfect.

Epilogue

ZAHIR – ONE MONTH LATER

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