Zaal leaned down, and giving me exactly what I needed, met my lips with his. It was soft, gentle, and more meaningful than any rushed, passionate embrace could be; it told me everything I needed to know. I owned him, too.

Zaal pulled back, and sliding my hand down to his, I asked, “Would you dance with me?”

Zaal stilled. His perfectly framed eyebrows pulled down. “There is no music,” he rasped out.

Moving to the sofa, without breaking his hold, I pressed play on my phone, the device connecting to the house’s speakers.

In seconds the crackling sounds from the 1940s old recording drifted through the speakers. Zaal sucked in a quick gulp of breath, his eyes fluttering closed. I laid my hands on his broad chest, the beat of his heart hammering underneath. At my touch, Zaal opened his eyes, his gaze glossy.

Dinah Shore began to sing about her love, who was at war, and her promise that she would wait for him, that she would never love anyone else, never give up her heart. As those words filled up the room, Zaal reached for my hands, laying one on his shoulder, and clasped the other one on my hand.

Zaal began to lead, his feet moving slowly and unsurely at first, but as the song played on, he became more steady and self-assured.

Zaal’s eyes never left mine, something indescribable passing through them as he moved me around the room.

I lay my cheek to his chest, lost in this moment of simplicity and joy, a rare occurrence in our complicated life.

“I remember this,” he said quietly, and my eyes drifted to a close. “I remember being good at this,” he continued, and huffed a single laugh. “And I remember Anri was not. He would always step on Grandmama’s toes.”

I listened to every word he spoke, relishing the happiness in his voice in this moment of pain-free joy. Zaal’s arm around my waist squeezed me tighter and I could hear his heart hammering.

Zaal’s breathing increased, and his stilled feet brought us to a stop. Opening my eyes, the final notes of the song coming to an end, I lifted my eyes. Zaal was staring down at me, and the look on his face made my stomach flip.

I watched him silently as he brought my hand to his chest. His long lashes blinked. Then blinked again. And with the slight parting of his lips, he said, “My heart, it is full, Talia. It is full, for you.” My throat closed as those heavenly words slipped from his soul. “It used to be empty and weak, now, now it beats strong again.”

Zaal leaned down. With the gentlest, most feather-light of touches, his soft lips brushed against mine. And I savored his taste. I savored his hands on my back. I savored it all. I wanted time to stop. I wanted time to freeze, to hold us captive in this moment, in this very moment.

I never wanted it to end.

The ambient sound of the speaker hissed in the background. Drawing back from Zaal, I pressed my hand to his cheek, and said, “I want to make love to you.”

Zaal’s forehead creased with confusion, but standing on my toes, I kissed those creases away, and whispered, “Come with me.”

Linking his hand in mine, I led him out of the living room and up the stairs. No words were exchanged as we approached my bedroom. Not one sentence uttered as we entered the door. I locked us inside.

Walking to the bed, Zaal followed behind. I turned, and I trembled. Everything about tonight felt bigger somehow. More important. The air around us had thickened, making it impossible to breathe. I knew, I just knew that it was because I was in love.

I was in love with Zaal Kostava.

We’d bared our pasts, we’d fought our fates. And at the end, left over was only the purest form of love. Of need. Of us.

Like Zaal had said, our empty hearts were now full.

Zaal’s hands were fisted at his sides. His eyes were luminescent with need. As he watched me, I lifted my shirt over my head. Reaching behind me, I unclasped my bra. The material fell away. Zaal’s eyes focused on my heavy, bare breasts.

The tension thickened, pulsed, clogged our very air.

Inhaling a long breath, I snapped the buttons on my jeans and rolled them down my legs. A hiss tore from Zaal when my panties came down, too.

A growl sounded in Zaal’s chest. I stepped toward him, until I was flush against his chest. Zaal watched me, never taking his eyes from mine.

Laying my hands on his waist, I lifted his shirt over his head. Once removed, Zaal’s thick muscled body met my eyes. I felt my pussy clench and wetness spread between my thighs.

Yet Zaal stood still. Stood still and let me take the lead, let me undress him, let me love him like he deserved to be loved.

My hands drifted to the waist of his pants, and I pulled them down, Zaal’s hard long cock springing into view. He kicked his pants off his feet.

Now both naked, I lifted my hand and ran it down his chest. As my fingers lingered on his toned and defined V, I continued until his hand wrapped around mine.

Walking backward, my legs hit the bed. I climbed on, Zaal’s huge frame following me. Lying down on my back, Zaal’s nostrils flared as he crawled over me. His body heat melted against mine and I held out my hands, welcoming him into my arms.

Spreading my legs, Zaal lay in between. His body kissed mine and I felt his length lay flush against my pussy. I moaned at the contact. Zaal, with his long hair brushed back off his face. There were no words.

I could read every part of Zaal’s face.

Could see every hungry expression igniting his dark and raw features.

Gripping Zaal’s wide shoulders, I pulled him down to crush his mouth to mine. The kiss started off slow, teasing, skin brushing against skin. Then as the tension built, so did the kiss.

On a low groan, Zaal pushed his tongue into my mouth. His hips moved, rocked against my pussy, his hard length dragging over my clit.

“Zaal!” I cried out, my lips breaking from his mouth on a gasp.

But Zaal’s hand pressed on my cheek, his touch forcing me to stare into his green eyes. His hips rolled some more, and I was ready. He was flush against me, and I could feel he was, too.

His eyes were fixed on mine.

Mine were fixed on his.

I had to have him.

He had to have me.

Lifting my hand to smooth over Zaal’s cheek, I whispered, “Make love to me.”

Zaal studied my face, and skirting his hand down to my thigh, he spread me further, and slowly slid inside.

Zaal’s teeth gritted as he pushed forward, inch by long thick inch. I wrapped my hands around his neck, and a pained moan fell from my lips as he filled me to the hilt.

I gasped at the full feeling, my skin damp as Zaal’s hard body rubbed against mine. He was all consuming. Taking me. Owning me. Completely possessing me in every possible way.

“Talia,” he groaned as his hips built up speed. But he never looked away. Our eyes stayed fixed as I met him thrust for thrust, my hips rolling to feel him more and more.

Zaal leaned down, his arms encasing my head. I bathed in his warm breath as my hands lay flat against his back. Zaal increased his speed, my pussy gripping tightly to his cock. I breathed in his scent—musk and sweat and Zaal. All Zaal.

My skin felt on fire, every part of me glowing with life.

Grunts and groans spilled from Zaal’s mouth. And I drank them all in. His face tensed and his mouth parted, breathing in and out in short sharp pants.

Then Zaal’s hips hit harder. I wouldn’t last. It was too much. This intensity. The look in his beautiful green eyes. The look of pure need, of pure love in his face.

I didn’t think it could be like this.

I never knew. I never knew it was possible to feel this strongly.

Shivers ghosted down my back as tingles shot up my spine. My clit pulsed and Zaal’s cock within me brushed over my G-spot deep inside. My pussy clenched and my nipples hardened, my back arching off the bed.