Silent Prejudice

15

His admission makes me recall that he was in the Hamptons this weekend. That’s a three-and-a-half-hour drive. Assuming Elena called him, he must have jumped in his car before he even hung up the phone. “I’d say I’m sorry to pull you away from work, but I’m not,” I whisper. Z gently eases back, coaxing me to lift my face toward his. When I do, his eyes dilate with murderous intent as he examines my bruised cheek. I’d been too tucked away beneath the covers for him to see before, but with the bathroom light still on, my discolored cheek is now visible. His fingertips raise to trace a delicate circle around the outer edge of my swelling. His touch is reverent. An apology and a promise. Never again. “I need you to tell me every way he hurt you.” His eyes light with pain, and I realize what he’s asking. I shake my head. “He didn’t touch me like that. He wanted to, but I got away before he could.” Zeno’s chest expands with air, but his features never soften. His relief will not grant Aldo any leniency, should the man still be alive. At that moment, I feel the full impact of what I mean to Zeno De Rossi. Every caustic comment and brutal rebuff from the past melt away as concrete understanding settles in my bones. He would s*******r the city for me. Raise the dead and give his own life for me. The enormity of his feelings is there in his eyes, waiting to be seen. Waiting for me to look hard enough to see the truth. I am the center of Zeno’s world. Always have been. Always will be. I don’t need to understand the man to know that one simple truth. My lips beg for his touch. I readjust until I’m straddling his lap, my eyes never leaving his. His strong arms hold me against him with one hand firmly at the back of my neck. Once we’re face-to-face, I rest my forehead gently against his. Zeno’s body is stiff with uncertainty and restraint. For once, I don’t presume to know his reasons. It’s not my place to project my own interpretations. Instead, I bring my lips to his hesitantly and allow fate to take us where it will. My lungs steal his shuddered breath before his mouth seizes mine. A primal moan rattles his chest and buries itself deep in my heart. Our tongues taste one another with the urgency of starvation. Years of deprivation and need are released all at once. Barriers drop, and bridles rip free. For the first time in our adult lives, we give ourselves over to the connection that has always lived and breathed between us. Nothing else exists. No families or duties. No past or future. We are two people fully engaged in our present need for one another. “f**k, I don’t deserve this.” His hand kneads my ass cheek while his teeth graze against my bottom lip. “No talking about the past.” I shake my head. “We can deal with it later. Right now, we need this. I need this.” “Tell me exactly what you need because I want to f**k you. If that’s not what you mean, say it now.” His words are ragged, taut with restraint. “That’s exactly what I want. I need to feel you inside me.” Without another word, Zeno rolls our bodies back onto the mattress until he’s looming over me. Possessive yet tender, ardent desire burning in his eyes. Our hips align, and my knees raise to align my center fully against his hard length. The relief from his touch where I most need him steals the air from my lungs. His kiss is savage. Feral in its intensity but absolute in its reverence. He makes me feel cherished with the simplest touch, and I devour every delectable bite. Eventually, Zeno lifts himself long enough to remove his shirt, then slips mine up over my head. I want to study every inch of him, worship and memorize his breathtaking body, but he doesn’t give me the opportunity. Consumed with his own ravaging desires, he descends to the column of my neck, trailing kisses down to my chest. I wasn’t wearing my bra when I’d gone to bed, so I’m bare to him. My body as naked as my emotions, raw and exposed and utterly his in every way. While he showers my breasts with attention, I drift my hands over his broad shoulders. The muscles flex and coil beneath my fingers. He’s so solid. So strong and masculine. Yet I’ve never felt so safe with a man. As if his strength is an extension of my own. His body mine to command. I cry out when his teeth tug at my n****e. The jolt is the perfect marriage of pleasure and pain. Zeno makes my body sing with desire until my core weeps, and a sheen of perspiration coats my skin. “How many times have I dreamed of tasting you? Hundreds. Thousands.” His body lowers until his head is positioned at the apex of my thighs. Eyes locked on mine, his tongue takes a slow, languorous lick along my slit. “Not once did my imagination live up to this. You’re f*****g divine.” I moan his name as he devours me. Fingers kneading at my breast, tongue relentlessly circling my swollen bundle of nerves, Zeno unravels the fabric of my being. I am nothing but pleasure and writhing greed, relentlessly chasing that perfect moment of carnal bliss. When his finger slips past my entrance and finds its way to that perfect spot inside me, I don’t have to chase anything. Release crashes over me like the torrential downpour of a summer storm. My throat burns from a scream I can’t hear. I’m too lost in the liquid elation coursing through the highways and byways of my body. He coaxes every possible shudder and shiver from my body like an artist crafting the perfect portrait. “Zeno.” I breathe his name to remind myself that this is real. He’s here, and for the moment, he’s mine. The loss of his touch draws open my eyes. I watch raptly as he unbuttons his pants and allows them to pool on the floor. His naked, tattooed form is on full display, and I have never laid eyes on anything so flawless. Models and actors are sculpted with muscle, but Zeno’s body is more than an aesthetic. He is the embodiment of power and strength, and I have no doubt he knows how to wield both. He rolls on a condom, and I’m not sure what’s more erotic: his straining c**k, or his broad hand fisting that hard length. His abs ripple with his movements, and I feel each twitch of his muscles deep in my belly. I know it’s safer to use protection, so I don’t object, but damn if I don’t crave the unobstructed feel of him. I’m tired of things coming between us. Even the thin rubber barrier is a burden after so many years of conflict and strain. But we aren’t there yet. For now, I’ll savor what I can. When his body aligns with mine, my breaths become shallow with anticipation. The scalding heat of his c**k radiates through the condom and soothes my aching c**t, but only for a second. With one arch of his hips, he’s at my entrance, pressing inside me. Once, twice, three thrusts find him fully sheathed within me. My jaw drops at the fullness, and my eyes stray up toward the ceiling.