Page 77 of Thunder's Reckoning
Zeke pulled back just enough to look. His eyes were a storm, dark, furious. But not at me. Never at me.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to the scar, slow, reverent. The place that had only ever known pain.
“You’re not his,” he whispered against my skin. “Not then. Not now. Not ever.”
The tightness in my chest broke. Tears pricked my eyes, but I dragged him back to me anyway, needing more, needing him. “Then make me remember you,” I breathed. “Erase him.”
Something snapped in him then. His kiss turned wild, desperate, answering the hunger in me with his own. His cut slid off his shoulders, my fingers tugging at his shirt until it was gone. Scars and heat, muscle and strength, all of him pressed to me like he couldn’t get close enough.
Clothes vanished between gasps and touches, until it was just skin on skin. His hands mapped every inch of me, memorizing, claiming, and this time I didn’t freeze—I wanted it. I wantedhim.
When he thrust into me, I cried out, not in pain, but release. His forehead pressed to mine, his breath harsh against my lips.
“You stop me if it’s too much,” he growled, his voice broken with need.
I shook my head, nails dragging down his back, holding on like he was the only thing keeping me anchored. “Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t.
He moved with a rawness that shook me, each thrust stripping away the weight of every hand that came before his. Every kiss was a brand, every touch a war cry against the chains that had bound me.
I clung to him, moaning into his mouth, letting the fire consume me, because for once it was mine. My fire. My choice.
When the climax hit, it tore through me like a storm breaking. And when his body tensed, his groan muffled against my throat, I pulled him closer, wanting to feel all of it, wanting to know we’d burned together.
The world went still after. Only the sound of our breathing filled the room.
I collapsed against him, my head on his shoulder, both of us trembling in the aftermath. His arms wrapped around me, strong, steady, holding me like I wasn’t fragile, but like I was his.
For the first time, the quiet didn’t scare me. It soothed.
We shifted eventually, tangled under the sheets, our bodies still pressed close. His hand traced the line of my spine, slow, almost absent. My fingers rested over his chest, right where his heart still pounded hard.
Neither of us spoke for a long time. We didn’t need to. The silence wasn’t empty anymore, it was full.
Finally, he pressed a kiss to my hair and whispered, rough but certain, “You’re safe with me.”
I closed my eyes, letting the words sink into the cracks of my bones. For the first time in forever, I truly believed them.
***
THE ROOM WASdark and still, the kind of silence that makes you think the world outside has stopped. I was asleep, deep in the warmth of Zeke’s arms, when something pulled me awake.
His mouth.
Hot, rough,hungryagainst my skin.
My breath caught as I blinked into the shadows. His head was lowered, lips trailing fire across my stomach, his stubble scraping my skin raw in the best way. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me apart like he’d been holding back all night and finally broke.
“Zeke…” I whispered, my voice trembling, half-dreaming, half-alive.
He groaned low in his chest, tongue sliding over me in a way that stole my breath. His hunger was raw, unashamed, like he’d die if he couldn’t taste me. His mouth devoured until I couldn’t stay quiet, until my body bowed off the bed and my hands tangled hard in his hair.
“Don’t wake the kids,” he muttered against me, his voice wrecked. “Just let me have you.”
I bit down on my lip, but the sounds still spilled out, muffled, helpless. Each stroke of his tongue ripped another shiver out of me. When the climax tore through me, sharp and violent, he didn’t stop, he pushed me further, wringing every drop until I was shaking in his grip.
By the time he pulled up, his mouth was wet, his eyes dark and wild.
