On a cry, and a final hard thrust by Zaal, my pussy clamped down on his dick and I burst apart at the seams. Stars glittered behind my eyes as I came, the force of my orgasm causing Zaal to bellow out a roar.
Zaal’s chest was damp with sweat, and he dropped his head to the crook of my neck. My eyes fluttered closed, Zaal’s length still jerking, grunts escaping his mouth. His breathing evened out and I placed my hand on the back of his head; I had to hold him close. I needed to anchor myself. My heart felt full to the brim with love, so full I felt I needed his touch to keep in control.
And I wanted him to know.
I wanted him to know how he’d changed me.
“Baby,” I whispered. Zaal’s head turned slightly to the side, his heavy breathing still labored. I guided his head higher, until his bright jade eyes were looking right into mine. My heart stuttered at the wild and primal sight of loose strands of long hair falling over his face. They had freed themselves from his knot and I had to slowly inhale at the sight.
Taking a deep breath, knowing I had Zaal’s full attention, I placed my palm on his cheek, and confessed, “I love you, Zaal. I completely and wholeheartedly adore you.”
Zaal’s full lips parted.
His eyebrows pulled together. “Love?” he asked. His green eyes searched mine as if he could find the answer in their depths.
His short breaths warmed my face, and I explained, “It’s a feeling. It’s that fullness you feel in your heart, your soul. The tightness and breathlessness you feel in your chest. It’s passion.” I moved a hand to lay over his chest, directly over his racing heart. “It’s the need, the absolute need to be with another, like this, joined, unwilling to be separated for anything.” I blinked away the mist from my eyes, and added, “It’s you and I, Zaal.
“Love,” he whispered, rolling his tongue around the word.
“Most males and females with full hearts, hearts full for each other, say, ‘I love you,’ and ‘I love you, too.’”
“Mmm…,” he replied, his head slightly shaking as if he disapproved. And my heart sank. A raw surge of pain making me breathless. He didn’t love me back.
Zaal’s skin had flushed as he watched me, a kaleidoscope of emotions flitting across his face. Lifting his hand, he pressed it over his heart, and then over mine. “You are … for me,” he stated, those familiar words, so simple yet so powerful, sounding like heaven to my soul.
Tears fell, and I realized this was him telling me he loved me, too. “You like to say that better?” I asked, my voice breaking in happiness.He nodded firmly, his harsh face straightening in conviction. “You are … for me. No other male. Just me. And me … for you. This is my, ‘I love you.’ These are my words from my scarred soul. They are not borrowed words, but words from my full heart, and my heart only.”
Those four simple words, “You are … for me,” were the most meaningful words that could ever be spoken.
Zaal leaned down and peppered soft kisses over my face, murmuring, “You are for me, you are for me,” repeatedly, until I thought my body would burst with light.
With my hands on his face, I lifted his face to meet mine. Gazing into those green eyes that had taken me captive all those weeks ago, I replied, “I am for you, Zaal, eternally. I am forever for you.”
The expression that set on Zaal’s face, one of disbelief and pure adoration, stole my breath. He swallowed the heavy emotion built between us, and took my mouth in the most gentle and sweetest of kisses. I wrapped my hands around his wide body, his warmth keeping me safe, making me feel so incredibly safe.
This was perfection.
This was my paradise—
Suddenly a loud crash sounded downstairs. Zaal’s mouth ripped from mine. Gunshots sounded. Loud pain-filled shouts echoed into our room.
I recognized those voices—Savin, Ilya.
“No,” I whispered, terror washing through my body.
Zaal froze when a rush of feet pounded up the stairs. His hand found mine, and just as he was about to pull me from the bed, the door burst open, the wood cracking off the wall. I screamed as men flooded into the room; men with rifles all aimed at our heads.
Zaal shook with rage. Releasing my hands, he ran at the guards. But just as he was about to fight, a man pushed through the door. A dark man with inky black hair and soulless eyes. He was dressed impeccably, and as soon as he laid eyes on Zaal, Zaal ground to a halt.
The blood drained from my face—Jakhua, his master.
Zaal’s face tore apart with agony as he stood before Jakhua. I could see how conditioned he was to obey this man.