She smiles up at me, so soft, so trusting.


    Fuck. Fuck. She doesn''t even know what she does to me.


    Ice our fingers together, pulling her toward the front door. I fumble with the keys, cursing under my breath when they slip in my hand.


    Sheughs, a soft, perfect sound, and presses her hand against my chest, steadying me without even knowing it. She reaches for the keys and opens the door.


    I barely get us through it before I turn her in my arms, pushing her back against the wall. I crash my mouth to hers. Hard. Desperate.


    She gasps against my lips, and I drink it in like the drowning man I am. Her hands are everywhere, threading into my hair, clutching at my jacket, tugging me closer even though I''m already trying to fuse us together.


    I press into her, into every curve, every dip, her soft body molding perfectly against mine. I feel her so deep in the broken, splintered pieces of me I thought were dead.


    She fits. God, she fits perfectly.


    Every kiss, every touch, tells me I belong. Tells me I''m finally home.


    I kiss her like it''s the only thing I''m good at. She whimpers against my mouth, and the sound nearly brings me to my knees.


    I pull back just a fraction, my forehead pressing to hers, our breaths heavy and tangled.


    "My love," I rasp out, my voice rough, desperate. I can''t wait, it''s impossible.


    I can''t stop my hips, they grind into her, involuntarily. My body missed her as


    much as my heart did. Her eyes, wide and shining, search mine.


    "I want you, Zaid, my love," she whispers.


    I scoop her


    up into my arms, hearing her broken breath as she clutches to me.


    I carry her straight to the living room, not bothering with anything else, not even


    attempting to wait until I can get her upstairs.


    I lower her down onto the couch, following her down, hovering above her.


    I take a second to look at her. The rise and fall of her chest. The pink flush


    blooming across her cheeks. The way she looks at me like I''m something precious.


    It wrecks me. Shatters me.


    I kiss her again, softer this time, but no less desperate. A slow, deep slide of lips,


    savoring.


    Her fingers slip under my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders, and I let it fall without a second thought.


    This is all I have ever needed. Her. I kiss her until I''m drunk on her, kiss her until it''s not


    enough.


    My fingers fumble with her dress until I find the hidden zipper. Her lips tremble, her


    breath shaking as I peel away the thin, ck fabric.


    It gives way to her perfectly soft, precious skin.


    "Fuck, you''re perfect."


    Her breasts tremble when she breathes and they draw my attention to the hard, pink


    crowns. I brush my thumb over one, watching as her skin prickles. She releases a desperate hiss, her back arching.


    Her hands w at my shirt, at my tie, at my buttons. "Zaid, please. I want to feel your


    skin. Please."


    I reluctantly pull away, shoving off my clothes like they''re offensive. I give her a moment to take me in, but only a moment because it is her that should be worshipped, not me.


    I close the distance between us, wrapping my hand around her waist and sucking a nipple


    into my mouth. I roll it between my teeth, savoring the soft moans and mewls that leave


    her mouth.