Zane | ✔︎

Chapter Thirty-One | Dove.

"You want to bathe with me?" Zane barely asked, kissing her repeatedly until there was no longer any space to breathe, his hands cradling her head after she held onto him ever so closely, and she did not pull away from him.

She did not answer him. 

Her lips spoke to him more, feeling the taste of his tongue and his mouth into her own. The taste of heaven and light, of salvation. 

She groaned a moan as a reply to his lips, provoking him, daring him to continue and make her feel good.

Her lewd voice was magic on him, compelling him to do bad things to her.

But he was gentle with his girl, cherishing her lips instead of exploiting them like their first. He felt so in awe of her, that even his wolf gave up the need to control her and do sinful things with her. Zane lost his wishes to hurt, he only wanted to love. Zane lost his wish to dominate, he only wanted to provide. He only wanted to keep her safe and treat her like how she should be.

The woman before him, in all her glory, made him feel things that he never imagined he'd see himself feeling. This woman, this darn woman, was making him human. 

She was making him come back from the place of darkness, a place he was forced to be in ever since he was born.

He didn't think he'd miss her so much already.

They both panted.

"Take me, please," Azalea whispered with a struggle, gripping his thick neck before simmering her hands into his thick hair, and he growled a bite on her lower lip, making her throb.

Zane's hands grabbed a hold of hers from his hair, removing all wires and tubes that enabled monitoring of her health close to the bed, and he set her free. 

He wasted no further time on the bed.

He lifted her legs with ease, gently lifting them so that she didn't get hurt, making them wrap around his body better without breaking the kiss. Azalea felt like a box of feathers. Even emotionally, she was at a high that she didn't want to be humbled by.

She felt him guide his way into the other side of the huge room, walking for what felt like hours, the door of the bathroom opening out of thin air for them, and she rested her arms on his shoulder for support, pulling away for a second to regain oxygen.

"Fuck," Zane lamented his pleasure into her tongue, making her flinch as he banged the door of the bathroom shut, going back to her with his attention.

"Hot or cold?" He hurled gently into her face after staring into her ocean eyes with his brown ones, displaying his apprehending hunger for her, but more than that, his affection.

"Hot." She breathed, her voice almost gone from the kiss.

He followed suit, heading towards her destination until her grip tightened around him, feeling fuzzy, finding herself being put down into the warming hot tub that had been set previously. She stayed there while hugging her knees close to her chest, keeping herself warm until he would join her in there.

He got up, taking out his gun and knife carefully before placing them on the bathroom dresser, taking out every single weapon he possessed, and then he removed his shirt, almost tearing it apart from the robust grip he had on it.

Her eyes lightened from the sight of his core. They took in the art painted on him with every bullet and knife, of everything, of every single line and scar he had on himself.

She missed his bare body. She missed him being so close.

His muscles appeared more defined since the last time he saw her, almost more toned, almost more arched. She would dare to think he was working a lot while she was away, but the thoughts in her seized, right after he presented himself half-naked in front of her.