by Tillie Cole
I swallowed at the sight of him. I fought for breath at his savageness; his brutal, primitive presence, and I lost my sensibilities.
Driven by instinct, I stepped forward, Zaal’s eyes immediately snapping up to meet with mine. His nostrils flared, his taut traps flexed, and his hands clenched at his sides. It was predatorily, and I felt like I was his prey. Though I wasn’t afraid. No, the opposite; turned on, compelled, drawn in, but never afraid.
Zaal’s cheek twitched as I approached, and I stopped just inches away. I fluttered my eyes from the view of his chest to his eyes; his eyes were already fixed on mine.
“Zaal…,” I whispered, hearing the longing clear in my tone. “Do you not want to cleanse?”
His pectoral muscles, marred with deep scars and ink, pounded heavily as his breathing grew labored. “You,” he rasped. My stomach and thighs clenched. Reaching down, he picked up my hand and laid it flat on his torso. I gasped when he began to steer my palm over his abdominal muscles, his jade eyes blazing with need. “You cleanse me,” he said, his clipped English and heavy Georgian accent growing thicker. “You touch me.”
He pushed my hand ever lower. My breath hitched as my palm ran over the head of his cock. “Zaal,” I moaned as my free hand lifted to rest on his bulging bicep. I was overcome by him, by this inexplicable pull between us.
Zaal’s hand over mine, we placed our joined fingers over his hard length. His jaw clenched and a growl rumbled in his throat. His eyelids grew leaden. I watched in fascination as his long black lashes swept against his high cheeks, his tongue licking along his full bottom lip.
My index finger, free from his hold, ran along the tip, pre-come kissing my skin. Zaal stilled, a deep groan surged from his lips, and before I’d known it, his strong hands had fisted the material of my thin sweater and ripped it in two.
Instantly, my breasts were bared.
Zaal panted as if he couldn’t draw his next breath without touching me. And my tether was strained. I thought of the necklace around my neck, its significance, the memory, the giver of the gift. But I became lost in that trusting sea of jade. The pull of Zaal’s draw, and the truth that I’d never felt this viscerally connected to another person in all my life, well, I tried to push it away … but could not.
Zaal was without restraint, tormented by the primal need to take. To take me. To own me. I could see it in every tense muscle, every protruding vein. He wanted to fuck me.
And, Lord forgive me, I wanted that, too. Damn the consequences, I wanted the man I’d sworn to always hate. I was fired with need.
Leaning to his side, I lifted Zaal’s red scarred wrists, once manacled by shackles and chains. I brought them to my breasts, my hands covering his as I silently urged him to touch.
Long calloused fingers grasped at my flesh. Hot shivers traveled like flares to the apex of my thighs. His touch alone sent me close to the edge. If this flicker of pleasure was a taste of what was to come, I wasn’t sure there would ever be any going back.
For a moment I had to question whether this betrayal with Zaal—against my family—was worth it. I cast my gaze across his identity tattoo, the scars from Lord knows what, and then his face, open, trusting, and handsome. Those beautiful innocent eyes. I sighed deeply, a sense of accepting peace flowing through me. It was worth it. Pure instinct told me he was worth it.
I chose to follow my heart.
Zaal’s face flushed as his hands explored. Meeting his gaze, I couldn’t look away from his hungry face as I snapped the button of my jeans. But Zaal looked down to watch, his hands palming my flesh more and more, his fingers grazing over my erect nipples.
I rolled my jeans down my legs and kicked them to the side of the room. Nerves overwhelmed me, engulfing my skin with hot shivers.
Tension built to a heady storm as our body heat clashed. Zaal’s rough hand still stroked my skin, his fingers tracing south.
I stood only in my black lace thong, a flimsy barrier from being completely bare, completely vulnerable.
My heart drummed.
My thighs clenched.
My pussy pulsed.
And then he moved. He moved until he was flush to my front. Flesh to flesh, sharing space. “Talia…,” he whispered, his warm breath skirting down the side of my neck.
“Zaal…,” I whispered in reply, my eyes closing at his nearness.
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head. Zaal hissed through his teeth as he glanced down. He towered over me, dwarfed me with his sheer size.
Zaal’s hands smoothed up over my waist, teasing me inch by inch. A low rumble sounded in Zaal’s throat, making my pussy flood with wetness. Then his hands skirted over my breasts, up the sides of my neck, and landed on my cheeks.
We stood there, suspended in the moment; his hands cupping my cheeks, breathing in each other’s air. The pulse in my neck raced, then my eyelashes fluttered in anticipation of what was to come.
Our desperate gazes met.
He took a deep breath.
Then he whispered, “You are … for me?”
And I knew I was done.
Trampled, heart-flattened, done.
You are … for me? Four simple words that smashed through any barrier between us.
“Zaal,” I moaned and, with my hands threading over his broad round shoulders, I lifted to my tiptoes. Zaal’s eyes widened in surprise as I drew in my mouth toward his. His hands, on each side of my face, tightened. His breath slipped through his lips with a nervous exhale.
Eyes remaining open, I brushed my lips over his. Zaal stilled. He panted into my mouth, which hovered in anticipation next to his. Zaal’s warm sweet breath caused my pussy to ache with need.
I expected Zaal to crush his lips to mine. That a man of his size, with such a primal persona, to overpower me, to control me, to dominate me. But he stayed still, body tensed. I pulled back slightly, only to see his eyebrows drawn. His pupils were dilated, the whites of his eyes shining brightly. His nostrils flared. The three moles to the left of his cheek had me entranced as they twitched with nerves.
Then it hit me—Zaal didn’t know why my lips were touching his.
I sighed. The heat of realization melted in my chest. He’d never been kissed.
Zaal’s hands were cupping my cheeks like his grip was the only thing keeping him grounded. Keeping him from falling.
Smoothing my hands up the sides of his thick neck, I threaded them through his now-soft ebony hair and lay them on his cheeks. Zaal’s eyelids lowered, his anxious eyes fluttering to relax at my touch.
“Zaal?” I whispered. His eyes bolted open, that jade green stare catching mine. “Have you ever been kissed?”
Frown lines laced his forehead. His cheek twitched. “I … I don’t understand. You speak … differently from what I know.”
English, I thought. He struggled with understanding English.
Zaal’s face searched mine. He was Georgian. I didn’t speak Georgian, but most Georgian Mafia knew Russian. I prayed he did, too.
“Potzeluy,” I offered. Zaal froze, his gaze drifting above my head. His expression was one of deep concentration, as though he was trying to remember how he knew the word. “Do you know the word?” I pushed.
His head dropped and he nodded. “I think … I think…” His head lifted and he pulled me to his lips with his hands still on my face. My heart fired off beats like a cannon in battle. His lips moved until they hovered next to mine. “They, our lips meet. They meld.” A crease between his eyebrows formed. He asked, “How? How do I know this?”
I swallowed as his panicked eyes searched mine for an answer. Before I could reply, his face paled. His hands shook against my cheeks. Zaal’s eyes squeezed shut. His lips parted. “I think … I think someone used to kiss me … before I belonged to Master?” Sweat beaded on Zaal’s forehead. My stomach fractured at the lost look on his face. “Tal … Talia … who would have done that?”
I didn’t know what to do. Did I tell him the truth or did I soothe him? I c
hose the latter. He was shaking, flustered. I wanted to make him feel safe.
“Shh…” I hushed, then moved my mouth to caress his lips and pleaded, “Potzeluy menya.”
Kiss me.
Zaal tensed. He whispered, “I will try.”
In seconds my lips melded to Zaal’s. A long moan resonated in my mouth. I used the grip on his cheeks to pull him closer.
A deep hum sounded in Zaal’s chest. Wasting no time, I pushed my tongue into his mouth, his taste bursting onto my tongue. For a moment, Zaal’s palms slipped from my cheeks, the deepness of the kiss catching him off guard.
I kept going. I took from this primitive man what I wanted, what I needed. At first, the kiss was clumsy, as his innocent tongue tentatively met mine. I became breathless the more our tongues dueled. Zaal became more confident. His grip tightened and he pulled me to his hard chest, the impact knocking precious air from my lungs.
I pulled back, gasping for oxygen. But Zaal stayed close, his pupils wide, dark, and love drunk. I panted, still at the edge of his swelling mouth. His lips were red and flushed. I flicked my tongue out and ran it along the seam of his bottom lip. Was it possible? Zaal’s hard cock seemed to swell even more; its length pressing hard against my stomach. I cried a breathy moan and captured his bottom lip between my teeth, before releasing it and staring into his eyes.
Zaal froze. Completely froze; causing my body to follow suit.
His green eyes blazed and his hands dropped. With a sudden, almost deafening snarl, his large hands yanked at my panties, ripping the black lace thong in two.
The chill in the air beaded my nipples and washed over my clit. Zaal stepped back. His stormy gaze dropped to between my legs. His hand gripped his cock.
Beads of sweat dropped down onto his damp chest. And those eyes, they roved, they devoured my naked body. They shone bright, flaring with need. As I watched his scarred tattooed hand stroke his long cock, my thighs grew slick with wetness.
Zaal growled low as my hand lifted, then skirted down my stomach. My heart raced as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Then I reached the top of my pussy. Zaal’s hard breathing seized as my fingers crept lower, down to run along my folds.
And he broke.
Whatever control Zaal had, snapped. He plowed forward.
With a shocked gasp, Zaal took me in his powerful arms and crushed his mouth to mine. The grunts and groans pouring from his mouth caused me to claw and rip at his back. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Zaal’s cock met my pussy, its length dragging along my folds, scraping against my already-swollen clit.
Tipping my head back, I cried out. Hands losing purchase on his burning skin, I raked his hair. My fingers wrapped around the long strands and I ground against his length.
Zaal’s mouth broke away from mine, a loud roar sounding in my ears. Suddenly, Zaal’s knees dropped to the floor, his firm grip not releasing me as he took me down also.
The head of his cock probed at my entrance and I cried out against his neck. Zaal groaned. Hands holding my waist, he flipped me onto all fours, his huge body closing in behind me.
I called out in shock, but lost all rational thought when his head lowered and his wet tongue swiped my pussy, licking over my folds, to finally land on my clit. He was relentless in stroking, probing, and sucking.
I could barely see, my skin shivering as he assaulted my clit, sucking and swirling his tongue. My juices flooded into his mouth. When his tongue stiffened and plunged into my hole, a white light blistered behind my eyes as I broke apart. I came so hard my arms gave way and my forehead touched the carpet.
I came, wave after wave cresting and stealing my breath. But Zaal never stopped, savoring every ounce of pleasure I could give. He lapped at my wetness, his strong hands spreading my pussy to reach every last drop.
I fought for breath, trembling on the ground, when I suddenly felt Zaal behind me. I felt his wide hard cock brace at my entrance, his rough fingers grasping my hips.
Desperately needing to see him, I turned my head. My heart missed a beat at the sight. Zaal, every muscle in his huge body protruding and strained, stared at my pussy. His face was primitive, tense with need, flushed with need. His teeth were gritted and a look of intense desire took hold in his eyes.
Then, as if sensing my stare, he glanced up, and that look he was wearing so strongly ebbed away, only to leave adoration in his beautiful expression.
“Zaal…,” I whispered as his hands flexed on my skin. His jaw clenched, and releasing one hand, he guided his cock to my entrance. I thanked the lord I was on the birth control shot. I wanted Zaal raw. I wanted him flesh to my flesh.
I never moved my gaze from his. He never moved his from mine. But as the head of his length pushed into my hole, my wet warmth engulfing him, his traps and neck corded as he slammed himself inside me.
I screamed out as he roared, the joined sounds of our sex echoing off the bedroom’s walls. And then he began thrusting. Hard, rough, and fierce. Zaal’s untamed hair hung over his face, masking the wild expression on his features. He looked every inch the unpolished savage I’d believed him to be.
Zaal’s cock pounded into me. The sound of his slapping hips against my ass made my clit throb more and more. His cock stroked against the spot that was always out of my reach, pleasured shivers shooting up my spine.
I was so close to exploding, but as I looked into Zaal’s face, his eyes now closed, lost in our moment of pleasure, I knew I didn’t want to be on my knees. I didn’t want him braced behind. I wanted to see those jade eyes. The very eyes that had triggered my obsession with a Kostava. I wanted to feel his powerful body thrust on top of me. I wanted him nursed between my open thighs.
Fighting the building pleasure taking hold, I murmured, “Zaal…” But he was lost in a haze of pleasure. Lost as he fucked me, owned me, possessed me.
Zaal ripped a roar from his mouth as my core squeezed hard, choking his length. Lifting on my weakened hands, I forced myself forward, Zaal falling out from within me.
His eyes snapped open as I rolled onto my back. His face screamed predatory danger; pupils dilated and teeth gritted in frustration. He reached down to my waist to flip me back on all fours. I held up my hand.
Panting, searching for air, I shook my head vigorously, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Stop … Zaal … please…,” I breathlessly begged. He stilled.
“I need … I need … you…,” he fought to say, his English pronunciation nearly unintelligible as he fought to remain calm.
I stared at his rolling muscles, sweat dripping on his olive skin and that huge cock, rigid against his stomach.
“Take me like this,” I said through broken breaths. Zaal’s cheek twitched. His forehead creased in confusion.
I slowly lay down on my back, spread my legs, and held out my arms. Zaal’s gaze ran over my begging body, lingering on my wet, open center. My breasts ached at the thought of him back inside me. I needed to feel him fill me. I needed him to own me.
Then a wash of insecurity filled Zaal’s face. A thought suddenly struck me: he’d never taken anyone like this before. The Jakhuas truly did treat him like an animal, only letting him fuck from behind.
“I don’t understand?” Zaal’s guttural and desperate voice confided.
My heart dropped at the apprehension spreading across his face, as he clenched his fists by his side.
“Come here,” I prompted, coaxing him to come closer with my fingers. Zaal, breathing too fast, bent on all fours and, with the power only a predator could possess, crawled slowly over my awaiting body.
He stared down at me, the ends of his long hair tickling my breasts. He stared into my eyes, waiting for further instruction.
I pressed my hand against his face. His cheek nuzzled against my touch. “Take me like this,” I whispered. His eyes widened. I smiled, and heard a hiss pass through his clenched teeth. “Take me as you look into my eyes, with your skin brushing against mine.” Zaal hung on my every word as I guided his overs
ize chest down over my breasts. I whispered into his ear, “Come in me, like this.”
A growl built in his throat as he lowered himself down. His thighs lay in between mine. Skirting my hand down between our bodies, I palmed his cock, slick with my wetness. Zaal groaned, his mouth dropping open at the feel. Placing his rigid cock at my entrance, I pushed the head inside and said, “Take me.”
Zaal’s eyes met mine as he thrust forward and filled me to the hilt. Zaal’s strong arms braced on either side of my head, but as he rocked back and forth, I noticed he wasn’t as rough, he was filling me, taking me, but he was feeling me, slowly and deliberately owning me.
Zaal’s eyes watched my mouth as I licked along my lips. His breathing hitched at the sight. Guiding my hands up his taut arms, Zaal lowered to thread his arms under my shoulders. I gasped as his hard chest pressed against mine.
This close, I could make out every line of his handsome face, the three moles to the left of his eye humanizing this man. Zaal stared at my lips and his thrusts paused.
We lay here breathing each other in, joined in the most primitive way. I smoothed back his long black hair from his face, and felt a fissure in my heart. This, right now, in this very moment, something soul-shattering passed between us. He’d come into my life like a storm. A storm I didn’t want, one I’d prepared all my life to hate, to fight. But it brought with it refreshing rain. It cleared the skies and brought out only warmth.
Zaal was saving me, liberating me from loneliness.
My throat was chock-full with emotion as I lay here, staring into his eyes. Then Zaal took a long breath, traced his nose along my cheek and whispered, “Potzeluy.”
Kiss.
Feeling my body fill with warmth, I cast Zaal a watery smile and guided his mouth to mine. His long hair cocooned us, protecting us in our own space. His full lips were like butterfly wings, whispering against my lips. This was in stark contrast to the animalistic rage and primal presence he exuded.