Consuming
My breath catches in my throat, and I whisper, “How?”
His jaw clenches, his throat working. “Because I would never step into a doctor’s office, Or a hospital. Ever.”
My eyes widen, remembering Nikki’s comments when she was laying in the bathtub.
His voice is rough, weighed down by things I don’t fully understand. “But I did. For you.”
I blink, trying to process his words. “Why would you never step into a hospital?”
–
He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Can we can we save that conversation for another day?”
Something in his voice makes me nod.
I don’t push, even though I want to. He never pushes me when I’m trying to stay afloat in the memories of my own traumas.
Instead, I cup his face again, guiding him down to me as I press my lips to his. He stiffens for a second before melting into me, his hands gripping my waist.
He’s so gentle, so careful.
The kiss deepens, and I pour everything into it, every unspoken feeling I’ve been terrified
to admit.
When I finally pull away, my eyes are glassy with unshed tears, my heart so full it feels like it might burst. I search his face, tracing the lines of worry, the fear that lingers even
now.
“I want to say something,” I whisper, my fingers still brushing his skin.
He watches me intently, nodding slowly.
“I want to tell you something.” I’m trembling, not knowing why it’s so hard for me to say the words, not knowing how I’m even going to get them out.
The look of absolute terror on his face is what finally makes me speak.
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Consuming
“I love you too.”
His entire expression collapses. His lips part, his body going rigid, his hands flexing on my waist like he doesn’t know whether to hold on or let go. Then he starts shaking his head, disbelief flickering across his face.
“You don’t have to say that,” he says, his voice cracking. “You don’t have to feel forced to
1 smile, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. “Do you really think so little of yourself?”
He trembles.
“Do you feel like you don’t deserve love?”
He just watches me, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them. I repeat myself, letting my voice soften, letting it wrap around him like a blanket. “I love you.”
Shock. Fear. Disbelief. It’s all there, swirling in his gaze, and I wait for it to fade, to dissolve into relief, into peace, into love.
Into understanding and realization that I mean the words that I say.
But it doesn’t.
He still can’t believe it and he looks absolutely mortified.
So, I take his hands, pressing his palms to my cheeks, letting him feel the warmth of my skin, the soft hitch of my breath. “I love you, Zaid.”
His fingers twitch against my face. He’s still shaking his head, but I see the cracks forming, the fight inside him warring with the need to believe.
“I love you,” I say again, firmer this time.
His eyes close for a brief second, and when they open again, I see it still; the fear of someone who’s never been told they’re worth loving.
I reach up, brushing my lips against his, whispering against his skin.
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Consuming
He exhales in relief, his arms wrapping around my waist as he kisses me deeply. He starts off gentle at first and then he takes over, hand searching my body, lips bruising mine.
The force of it steals the air from my lungs. It’s not gentle, not careful. It’s desperate and consuming, and that’s my favorite part about him.
He’s intense, all–consuming. And he’s mine.
I melt into him, my fingers tangling in his hair, my body pressing closer as warmth floods every inch of me. He groans softly against my lips, a sound that makes my stomach tighten, makes me ache in places I didn’t even know could ache.
I moan in response and then I’m weightless.
Zaid’s arms tighten around me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries me across the room, never breaking the kiss, never loosening his hold, like he can’t stand the thought of putting distance between us.
The next thing I know, my back meets the soft mattress, and Zaid is over me, his weight braced on his forearms as his lips trail down my jaw, my neck, his breath hot and ragged. I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of him.
He’s always been intense. Always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But this is him unraveling.
And I am completely undone.
“Zaid,” I whisper.
He pulls back, chest heaving. He sees the need in my eyes and he sits back, pulling his shirt over my head.
I’m a mess, scrambling over myself as I undress. The moment he leans back over me and
hot skin touches hot skin, I’m lost.
We fit right into each other, and I know that nothing will ever feel like this again.
My heart pounds against my ribs, every fiber of me alive with the realization of just how much I love this man. How much I always have. How much I always will.
I cradle his face in my hands, guiding him back to me, pressing my lips to his in a kiss
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Consuming
that is just as desperate, just as deep, just as full of everything I can’t put into words. He groans again, his body pressing closer, his hands gripping my waist like he can’t bear the thought of letting me go.
And I don’t want him to.
I never want him to.
He pulls away just enough to whisper, “Let me look at you.”
I dislodge my lips from him, letting him sit back once more, except this time, his eyes roam over every inch of my body. He drinks me in from my perky nipples down to my
pussy.
His nostrils flare, his eyes turning dark as they hood over. His fingers trail down my waist and his thumb presses between my lips. I hear it, the wetness as he slips against my skin.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his breath increasing in pace and strength.
He pushes his thumb inside me, gripping onto my thigh as he opens me up. He looks deep into me and the muscles in his neck pop. My heart starts hammering in my chest and I struggle to breathe.
