Page 171 of The Last Guardian

Zaid broke the kiss, staring at my eyes. “You are beautiful.” His eyes observed me, as if he was etching every inch of my skin on his soul. “Every time I look at you, my heart stops. I can’t think properly; I can hardly breathe.”

I stared at him, searching for his truth, and I had never felt so beautiful as when Zaid looked at me like that.

Our foreheads touched as our breath melted together. A pause—just long enough to let the emotion, what we were for each other right now, settle like a warm storm under our souls.

I closed the distance, our lips meeting again, slowly, unhurriedly. Warmly. As if we were constantly rediscovering each other. A kind of tenderness, an adoration that only a few could feel—as if we were learning from each other, again and again. Infinitely.

Forever.

My hand found his jaw while our tongues brushed against each other in a long kiss. This kiss was like a prayer to the stars—a song passed down from generation to generation through the ruins of the world.

A promise.

“I want to see you.” Zaid brushed his nose gently against mine. “All of you.”

It wasn’t an order, but a plea. A need.

My fingers curled into my nightgown as I lifted it from my body, the fabric brushing against my skin softly, revealing every part of me. I let it fall on the white sheets as my stare focused on Zaid.

His eyes took in the sight of my body. And he fell back on his heels, as if he were blown away.

“Fuck,” Zaid muttered, passing a hand through his black hair, straightening up, reaching for my hips as he closed the distance. My nipples hardened at the sensation of his chest near mine. “How can you be real? You look like a dream I never dared to have, to hope for.”

Zaid brushed his finger along my jawline, moving it to my throat, my collarbone, my breast. As if his fingertips were a brush, painting me with the essence of his soul, worshipping every parcel of my skin.

His lips met mine once more, slowly. Reverently. His weight was pushing me slowly until my back arched against the mattress.

“I want to taste you,” Zaid purred against my lips, and I felt the flush on my cheeks. His eyes flared at my reaction, at the excitement and the anticipation.

My mouth went dry. I bit my lip. Zaid gave me the most striking grin, brushing his lips against mine once more, my cheeks, before exploring the rest of my body. Mapping long, languorous kisses down my throat, my chest, each kiss leaving the mark of his beautiful lips.

A moan escaped me as his tongue casually brushed my nipple. My core pooled. His hand caressed my hips, gently slipping the lace off. His lips continued their exploration of my abdomen.

His hand flinched on the scar below my breast for a moment. He kissed that part of my body, chasing away every dark thought it brought, stirring the flames that burned only for him in my soul. Leaving only hope. Life. Only us.

Since that scar had taken root in my flesh, I had felt nothing. Only grief, anger, and fear. Sadness. And tonight, for the first time in years, the moment Zaid’s lips touched my scar, my heart began to beat again, awakening every cell of my being, the very light that burned within me. Filling my heart with hope.

His lips returned to their path, kissing me everywhere. My skin quivered at each touch, leaving a soft warmth where his breath lingered.

I gasped as his lips found the inside of my thigh, and electric waves spread through my body. The soft brush of his teeth made me shiver, a dull ache knotting in the pit of my core.

Time stood still.

My blood pounded in my veins, each heartbeat stronger than the last.

The moment his tongue touched my flesh, shockwaves coursed through every cell of my body. I arched my back, offering him complete access.

“Fuck,” Zaid growled with a guttural sound that drove me completely feral. “Your taste. You are driving me mad.”

A moan vibrated from his mouth, resonating within me as I moaned back. His tongue moved in soft strokes—it swirled and undulated in a slow motion.

Only the sound of his tongue devouring me, mingling with our moans and gasps, echoed in the room.

My hips moved by themselves, following Zaid’s rhythm, stroking, pulsing on the sensitive flesh of my body, bringing me to the edge once more.

One of his hands traveled to my breast, teasing my nipples; the other found its way lower, where his tongue was already playing.

When two fingers found home inside of me again, I suppressed a scream. My core melted at each stroke of his fingers on my breast, at each lick of his wicked tongue on my clit, at the two fingers pushing, curling inside me. I arched against him as my hand found his hair, pulling him closer to my need. A groan escaped him at my movement, a sound I wanted to hear repeated in my mind.