Page 49 of Bound By Sin
My chest was tight, my mind spinning as I poured two glasses of vodka and carried them over to the couch where Zora sat down the minute we walked in. Neither one of us has had a good evening, but she probably needs this more than me. Her apartment was broken into and her things were damaged after I told her I would protect her.
"Here," I tell her, handing her a glass, and she looks at it blankly. When she doesn't take it, I set it on the table in front of her and take her duffel bag out of her grasp, setting it aside as I down my vodka. I don't understand her call to not get the police involved, though I respect it. She doesn't want her brothers coming down on her harder, and I want her to be comfortable.
"You okay?" I ask her. It's torture pushing my own anger aside to be there for her, but she needs me. What happened tonight was not okay. It feels like the whole world is erupting around me. Trying to stay grounded in the present is nearly impossible.
"I'm alright," she mumbles. "I just see you hurting and I want to help."
"Z, someone broke into your apartment. That's no small thing. I'm asking if you're okay." Her head drops and I watch her pick at her fingernails for a moment. It's a lot for anyone to process, but I consider myself better than most. I've dealt with hard knocks my whole life. I'm used to it. But Zora isn’t in this life. She shouldn't have to deal with this.
"I'm okay, babe…" she says, but I hear the hints of negative emotions in her tone. Her face, however, is a plastic smile—no indication of what she may be feeling at all.
I set my glass down and take hold of her, pulling her onto my lap. She's pliable, ready to move however I position her, and I just hold her against my chest. Her head rests on my shoulder, her arms tucked up between us. It's a comfortable position despite the minor protest in my ribs still happening.
"I'm glad you're here. I don't think I'd have wanted to be in this place alone tonight."
"Where are we?" she asks softly. It's the first time I've brought her back to my apartment instead of one of the Kuzin safehouses. As close as we're getting, I know it's time to come completely clean. She already knows the fights were illegal, though they may never happen again. Roman may never let me near them again even if they do. And I just want to know she still wants me even if she knows who I really am.
"This is my real apartment."
"Real?" she asks, sitting up. Her eyes study me carefully for a second. "What do you mean, Kaz?" Her bottom lip trembles slightly. She's scared to know what I'm talking about.
"I mean, the other place was a safehouse. This is my real apartment. I didn't bring you here before because the familyhas… protocols." She's careful, watching me with a guarded expression as I continue. "I'm part of the Kuzin criminal empire, Z." My hands rest on her thighs, thumbs rubbing across her jeans. If she's surprised by this or shocked, she doesn't show it. I have to hand it to her. She has a good poker face.
"You're what?" she asks quietly.
"I'm an enforcer… I was supposed to be in charge while Roman was away, and well, you see how that went…"
Zora's head drops, and I pinch her chin and make her look up at me. "Don't be scared of this, okay? I'm not dangerous and I'm still the same man I always was. And I still love you."
She holds my gaze for a moment and then does something I don't expect. Her eyes crest with tears and she leans down and kisses me. I expected shock or some big reaction, fear maybe, but not this.
Her lips are tender and soft, but she's kissing me like she's hungry and desperate to feel me. When her hands tug at the hem of my shirt, untucking it, I start to swell.
"Please, Kaz, I want to feel you close to me. I don’t care who you are. I want you." Every word she says comes out through tears. It's like she's forcing herself to look past my flaw to love me and I've never felt more wanted.
"Baby, we don't have to do this if you're not comfortable." I grab her wrists, bring her hands to my lips where I kiss her knuckles. But she cups my cheeks and cries harder.
"I… need you," she whispers, then her lips press against mine again, salty from the tears still slipping down her cheeks.
I taste the desperation in every swipe of her tongue, the way she presses herself tighter against my chest like she’s trying to crawl inside me. My hands slide up her back, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt, holding her steady while she kisses me harder, hungrier. She whimpers into my mouth, small broken sounds that shoot straight to my cock.
I stand without breaking the kiss, lifting her easily. Her legs wrap around my waist on instinct, thighs clamping, ankles locking at the small of my back. She’s light in my arms, trembling, but not from fear now. I carry her down the short hallway to my bedroom, never once taking my mouth from hers. Her fingers twist in my hair, tugging just enough to sting, and I groan against her lips.
When the edge of the mattress hits my knees, I lower us both down carefully, keeping her cradled against me until she’s stretched out beneath me on the dark sheets. She doesn’t let go. Her arms stay looped around my neck, pulling me down so our bodies line up perfectly as I settle between her thighs, her heat already bleeding through her jeans. I can’t stop the low growl that rumbles out of my throat.
“Fuck, Z,” I murmur against her mouth. “You’re shaking.”
“I need you,” she breathes. “Kaz, please.”
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed and streaked.
Beautiful.
Wrecked.
Mine.
I kiss her again, tracing the seam of her lips with my tongue until she opens for me. While I taste her, my hands find the hem of her shirt. I drag it up inch by inch, knuckles grazing the soft skin of her stomach, her ribs, the underside of her breasts. She arches into the touch, helping me peel the fabric over her head. It lands somewhere on the floor then her bra follows.
