She wrapped her legs around his waist and his cock, out of his pants, and her body spread open, brushed. She felt him from the opening of her body to her clit and she gasped into his mouth. He squeezed her in his arms. And whatever she thought this was going to be, it was going by too fast. She could feel the orgasm coming.

If I come, he’ll leave. That she knew.

She flexed her hips, stroking him with wetness and heat.

He turned pushing her against the wall. Fuck. It was a chant in her head. In her blood. Yes. More.

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“Do it. Just…do it.”

“And then we’re going to go downstairs and drink champagne and you’re going to forget—”

She pulled back, blinked at him. “No.”

“Zilla.”

“No. I came here for a reason and you think you can fuck me and I’ll forget it.”

He shifted his hand, pressed his cock right against the entrance of her body. Her breath shuddered and broke.

“If you fail, Zilla. They’ll hurt you.”

“I won’t fail.”

“Ronan and Poppy can’t protect you.”

“I can protect myself. You made sure of that. You made me strong. Now you can fuck me or you can walk away.”

He pressed his hand against her throat. Tipping her head back. “I’m going to fuck you and we are going to walk away.”

“You aren’t—”

He pushed inside of her, so fast. So hard. She screamed until he smacked a hand over her mouth. Oh god, he was so big and she could feel him in the back of her throat.

Tears burned in her eyes. It was good. So good. So much better than she’d thought. Than she’d dreamed for the last two years.

He held her so close. Close enough that she could imagine she was precious to him. She could believe that he felt what she felt. She pushed the thought aside. She’d known for two years what he felt for her and it wasn’t love. He’d made it clear.

But she wasn’t strong enough to deny this moment. She wrapped her hands around his neck and held on tight. Breathing him in and opening her body up to all the pain that would come after this.

“Zilla,” he breathed. In and out. Fucking her and breathing and chanting her name and she could feel the orgasm back again. Opening her up. Opening up the parts of herself she needed to keep closed. To keep herself safe.

She pushed him away, turned his face aside. Closed her eyes. But it was too late. It was too late when he snuck into her room at Belhaven. It was too late when he ran across the Brooklyn Bridge. It was too late when he taught her to fight. When he taught her to love, even when he didn’t want it.