Page 102 of Worshiping Faith

He grips my hips tighter, fighting the need to take control. His jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed like this, me making love to him, is killing him.

Good.

I want him to feel everything.

I rock forward, angling to take him deeper, tilting so every roll sends pleasure sparking up my spine. He groans again, tortured, his hands jerking, like he’s barely keeping himself from losing it.

I hold his eyes, refusing to look away. Refusing to let him miss this.

I need him to know.

“I love you,” I whisper.

His entire body jerks. His fingers dig into my skin, a groan ripping from his chest, his control shattering as he thrusts up into me, deeper, harder, chasing release.

Then his hands slide up my back, fisting in my hair, dragging me down to him, owning my mouth as he shatters completely.

“I love you,” he growls against my lips, lost in me as he falls apart.

The truth of it shatters me completely.

I stay there, still wrapped around him, head resting against his chest, listening to the steady, grounding beat of his heart. Tomorrow, this bed will be empty. He’ll be gone. And a piece of me will go with him.

I don’t know how much time passes, just me, soaking in his warmth, and him, finally at peace, finally fucking resting.

His fingers trace lazy circles against my skin.

“Zachs?”

“Mmm?”

“Is there a way to have a private channel on the walkie? I mean, I wouldn’t use it to call you because, well… zombies and shit. But if you can find a quiet moment each night and just say you’re okay…” I swallow hard. “So I can function.”

He stills for a beat. Then his grip tightens just enough to tell me he feels that. That he understands exactly what I’m asking.

“Fuck, sweetie. Course I can.” He kisses the top of my head. “Don’t you worry about me. I promise, I’m coming back.”

I let out a slow breath, not fully believing him, but wanting to.

His fingers skim up my arm, trailing toward my hand, his touch featherlight. “You sure you don’t want me to grab you any girly shit?” he murmurs. “What size ring you wear?”

I tilt my head up, narrowing my eyes at him. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

His dimple pops. “Diamonds? Sapphires? What do you like?”

“Zachs, I swear to God, if you come home with stupid shit like that, I’m kicking your ass.”

He grins, full and smug as hell, because he did exactly what he set out to do. Pulled me out of my panic. Settled me. Made me laugh.

I fucking love him.