Page 42 of Zinnia and the Zombie
They rounded a corner, and she gasped.
Before them lay a small clearing ringed by tall plants bearing enormous, luminescent flowers. During the day they weresimply ordinary plants, but with nightfall the hidden buds began to open, unfurling huge ivory petals that glowed with a soft, pearl-like radiance. As they watched, more flowers opened, responding to some invisible signal that night had fully arrived.
“Night-bloomers,” he explained, watching her face as she took in the sight. “I found them yesterday while you were collecting water.”
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered, stepping forward. The flowers cast enough light to illuminate her features—the soft curve of her cheek, the wonder in her eyes.
He had brought her here to distract her from tomorrow’s dangers, to give her something beautiful to focus on instead of fear. But now, watching her move among the luminous blooms, he found himself distracted instead. The glow of the flowers caressed her skin, turning her into something otherworldly and precious.
A familiar heat stirred in his blood. A need not just for her body, but for the connection that flowed between them.
She must have sensed the change in him. She turned, her eyes finding his across the clearing, then walked slowly towards him. When she reached him, she placed her palms against his chest. The touch sent a current through his body, his skin warming beneath her fingers.
“I’m afraid of losing this,” she admitted, her voice barely audible even in the stillness of the garden. “Of losing you.”
He cupped her face, his thumbs tracing the curve of her cheekbones. “You won’t lose me. We’ve prepared well.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No,” he conceded. “But I can promise I will do everything in my power to keep us both safe.”
She leaned into his touch. “I know.”
He bent down, pressing his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled in the cool night air. For a moment, they simply stood there, sharing the same space, the same breath, as if trying to merge their very atoms.
Then her lips found his, soft at first, then with growing urgency, and his own passion flared to meet hers. He pulled her closer, his hands sliding down to her waist, and the heat of his skin intensified, a golden glow emanating from wherever they touched.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging his head down for a kiss, and his body responded instantly, his mating organ emerging from its concealment to press urgently against her. Her breath quickened as he deepened the kiss.
His hands slid lower, gripping her ass, lifting her off the ground, and her legs wrapped around his hips, ankles locking behind him. His shaft pulsed, a drop of pre-cum escaping the tip and wetting the fabric between them.
Her lips brushed his ear. “Now, Jaxx.”
He groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest. He yanked her dress out of the way and lifted her higher, suspending her over his cock. He held her there for a second as she wiggled impatiently, then lowered her onto his shaft, impaling her in one hard stroke. The feel of her hot, slick flesh closing around him, welcoming him into her tight core, brought him to the verge of climax.
With a growl, he began to thrust, her body rocking with every powerful stroke. Her hands were everywhere—his chest, his back, his shoulders, as if she couldn’t decide where to touch him first. He loved her like this, wild and abandoned, the sight of her lost in pleasure almost as intoxicating as the feel of her inner muscles rippling around him.
He wanted this moment to last forever, wanted to bury himself inside her and never leave, but his body had other ideas. He was too far gone, his desire for her too overwhelming.
He slid a hand between them, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit, and she threw her head back, moaning. His mating organ swelled, the ridge along its base expanding, and she gasped, her inner walls contracting around him. Her eyes were locked on his, dark and full of trust, and her orgasm triggered his own. His roar echoed through the garden as he came, the force of his release nearly driving him to his knees.
For a moment, all he could do was hold her tightly, his face buried in the curve of her neck. The feel of her skin, warm and soft against him, grounded him in the present. In the reality of her, solid and real in his arms.
She pressed her lips against his cheek. “You’re still glowing.”
He released a breathless laugh. “That’s your fault.”
“Guilty as charged.”
With great reluctance, he withdrew from her body, his shaft returning to its concealment, and gently set her back on her feet. She wobbled a little, and he steadied her, a surge of male pride filling him at the thought that his body’s power could have such an effect.
She tugged her dress back into place, the silky material slipping over her skin, then reached for his hand, twining her fingers with his.
He had feared this night would feel like a farewell—a last desperate grasping at pleasure before the coming storm. Instead, each touch, each shared breath had felt like a promise. A declaration that this was not an ending but a continuation. Their future stretched before them, uncertain but filled with possibility.
“We should go,” he said eventually but didn’t attempt to guide her out of the grove.
“I’d rather stay here.”
