Page 71 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“Is this really for me?” Zoey asked, a hint of wonder breaking through her usual caution.
“Every bit of it,” I said, taking her hand and brushing my lips over her knuckles. “And it’s just the start.”
My mother had helped me prepare the meal: Hungarian goulash with gnocchi, and a dark chocolate orange mousse with Chantilly cream for dessert.
The flicker of candlelight danced in Zoey’s eyes, and her delicate features were bathed in a soft, glowing light as she turned to face me. “Thank you,” she whispered. “This is incredible.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Zoey.”
She reached up and traced the scar above my eyebrow, a silent acknowledgment of the past that had shaped me. For me, it was a reminder of the need to protect and cherish the woman before me.
As if pulled by an invisible force, our lips met. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and full of promise. Her arms wound around my neck, drawing me closer, and I deepened the kiss, surrendering to the bond that surged between us.
Heat radiated from her body, igniting a fire within me that threatened to unravel the restraint I’d so carefully crafted. This wasn’t fleeting desire; it was the connection of a fated mate, undeniable and overwhelming.
“Zoey,” I murmured against her lips, the word a plea and a declaration all at once.
She responded with a soft moan that shattered the last of my control. My hands roamed over her back, every touch a vow of commitment. I was hers, irrevocably.
“Are you sure?” I asked, breathless, pulling back just enough to search her face for any sign of hesitation.
In answer, she pressed herself against me, erasing any doubts. And I couldn’t hold back any longer. We were past the point of tasting—we were feasting on the possibility of a future neither of us had anticipated but desperately craved.
18
ZOEY
My breath hitched in my throat as I pressed against him. Our kiss broke, and I stared into Noah’s steady blue eyes. The air between us was charged, thick with an unsaid promise that neither of us seemed willing to break.
“Zoey,” he said in a low rumble that sent shivers skittering down my spine.
I could feel the heat radiating off his body, his erection pressing firmly against my thigh. And yet, I knew if I asked him to stop, he would. I trusted him.
Reaching out, I traced the line of his jaw, his stubble rough against my skin. I nodded, unable to form words. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to break free, and I knew what it wanted. What I wanted.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his concern breaking through the fog of desire that clouded my mind.
“Yes.” The word came out as barely more than a whisper, but it was laced with all the certainty and longing I felt. I trusted him, more than I’d ever trusted any man, and I needed him to know that.
“Okay.” Then his lips were on mine, soft yet demanding. His hands cupped my ass, pulling me closer until there was no space left for doubt or fear. My cautious, guarded movements melted away under his touch, replaced by something freer. Something that felt like hope.
I sank into his kiss, into the sensation. I was giving myself to him, not just my body but every scarred and battered piece of my soul. As we moved together, I realized that maybe, just maybe, this was what healing felt like.
Our lips moved in sync, tongues dancing in a fiery embrace. His hands slid skillfully over my body, leaving a burning trail of desire in their wake as we moved to the bedroom. We undressed each other urgently, tossing our clothes to the ground.
In the dim light of the bedroom, we explored each other’s bodies. His chiseled abs and defined biceps contrasted against my softness, but instead of feeling self-conscious, I felt desirable.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his intense gaze roaming over me with a hunger that set my skin on fire. It had been so long since someone had looked at me like I was anything more than a conquest, and I savored the feeling.
“I want to taste you,” he said, his voice low and husky with desire. He kissed a trail down my neck, his tongue tracing a fiery path along my collarbone. My back arched, and I moaned his name as he found my nipple, licking and sucking until I thought I might combust.
“Oh, God,” I panted, my fingers curling into the sheets. The touch of his tongue and teeth on my stomach and hips sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
I gasped when his warm breath teased my sensitive folds. Noah looked up at me, seeking my permission. I nodded and bit my lip in anticipation.
His tongue flicked over my clit, then lapped at my wetness. I cried out, my hands twining in his hair. He was relentless, teasing and sucking, licking up every drop of my arousal.
“Oh, fuck, I’ve never felt anything like this,” I moaned. He knew exactly where to touch, where to suck to send me over the edge, and I came apart in his mouth, screaming his name as my climax tore through me.
