Chapter 69 Chapter 69
Tiana
Two hours after sunset, I stood outside Zane’s room with my hand raised to knock.
I had changed three times, finally settling on a simple dress, and brushed my hair until it fell in waves past my shoulders. Then, I immediately pulled it back into a braid because what was I doing, trying to look pretty for him?
My knuckles rapped against the wood before I could talk myself out of it.
“Come in.”
His voice was muffled through the door but clear enough.
I pushed it open and stepped inside.
Zane’s desk was covered in papers and maps that he had clearly been working on before I arrived.
He stood beside it now, one hand braced on the wooden surface, watching me enter.
“You asked me to come,” I said, hating how uncertain my voice sounded.
Zane didn’t respond immediately. Just looked at me with his expression giving nothing away.
I moved further into the room, my feet carrying me toward the bed without conscious thought. I sat on the edge, folding my hands in my lap.
Zane shifted his weight to lean back better against the desk as he stared at me.
“Do you read?”
The question caught me off guard. “What?”
“Books. Do you read them?”
I blinked. “Yes. Why?”
“What kind?”
This was strange. We’d never had a conversation like this.
“History, mostly,” I said slowly. “Some philosophy. Whatever’s in the library.”
He nodded like this information mattered somehow.
I studied his face, trying to understand where this was going but he said nothing else.
I took the lead. “Is there a reason you asked me here?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
I waited, my heart beating too fast in my chest. Zane pushed off from the desk, moving to the window. He stood there with his back to me, looking out at whatever darkness lay beyond the glass.
“The treatments are almost finished,” he said finally. “One more round.”
“I know.”
“After that, conception becomes necessary.”
The clinical way he said it made my stomach twist.
“How do you feel about that?” he asked, still not looking at me.
I swallowed. “About what, exactly?”
“All of it. The treatments. What comes after?”
My hands clenched in my lap. “Does it matter?”
“Answer the question.”
The command in his voice made my spine straighten automatically. But I didn’t answer right away, because how was I supposed to put into words the complicated mess of emotions I felt about any of this?
“They hurt,” I said quietly. “The treatments. They hurt and I hate them.”
“Sorry about that.” I heard him say, and I was taken aback for a moment.
Zane stayed quiet for a while before he went on to ask.
“And after?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I try not to think that far ahead.”
He turned then, his eyes finding mine across the room. “What do you think about the arrangement? Carrying my child and leaving after.”
The bluntness of it stole my breath.
“I don’t like it,” I voiced out. “Is that what you want to hear?”
Zane just nodded slowly, like I’d confirmed something he already knew.
“To be fair,” he said, moving away from the window, “have I caused you any problems since this arrangement?”
The question threw me. I opened my mouth to say yes, obviously yes, but—
Had he?
“You ignore me,” I said slowly, thinking through it. “Most of the time, you act like I don’t exist.”
“Is that causing you problems?”
“It’s—” I fumbled for words. “It’s not pleasant.”
“But not a problem.”
I wanted to argue, but the truth was that his distance had made this bearable.
“You restricted my friendship with Kaius,” I said, grasping for something concrete.
“I asked you to be mindful of appearances. That’s not the same as restriction.”
I hated that he was right.
“So no,” he continued, stopping a few feet away from where I sat. “I haven’t caused you problems. I’ve given you space, resources, and autonomy within reason. I understand the exchange involved.”
“Is there a point to this?” I asked, frustration bleeding into my voice.
“The point,” Zane said quietly, “is that I have been playing my part fine.”
I stared at him, still not understanding why he had to call me back just for this conversation.
I was still in my confusion, when Zane moved and in no time he was standing directly in front of me.
Close enough that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.
His hand came up, his fingers brushing the neckline of my dress.
“Are you fine with this?” His voice was rough in a way I’d never heard before.
My breath caught. “With what?”
“This.” His fingers traced the edge of my dress. “Me taking this off.”
“Why?”
“Answer the question, Tiana.”
I should say no. But my body had other ideas.
Heat pooled low in my stomach, my wolf pressing forward with interest that felt almost greedy.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His eyes darkened. “Say it clearly.”
“Yes. I’m fine with it.”
His hands moved to the buttons of my dress, working them open with steady fingers.
I sat frozen, watching him undress me with the same focused intensity he brought to everything else.
The dress parted open to reveal my interest. Zane’s gaze swept over me once, before he pushed the fabric off my shoulders.
“Lift your arms.”
I obeyed, letting him pull the dress over my head.
Now I sat in just my underwear, exposed and vulnerable under his gaze.
He stepped back slightly, his eyes traveling over me with an expression that made my skin flush hot despite the cool air.
“Lie back.”
I shifted on the bed, lowering myself onto my back. Zane moved to the edge of the bed, his hand settling on my ankle. His touch was warm as he slowly pushed my leg to the side.
Then the other.
Spreading me open.
My breath came faster now, my chest rising and falling with each inhale.
His hand trailed up my calf, over my knee, along my inner thigh slowly, like he had all the time in the world.
When his fingers reached the edge of my pant, he paused.
“This too,” he said, hooking his fingers under the fabric.
I lifted my hips, letting him pull it down and off.
Now there was nothing between us, protecting me from his touch.
Zane’s hand returned to my thigh and his thumb traced small circles against my skin, moving higher with each pass.
I bit my lip, trying to stay still and not show how much his touch affected me.
His fingers moved higher, finally touching where I needed them.
I gasped, my back arching off the bed.
He explored slowly, like he was mapping every sensitive spot. Circling, pressing, testing what made me gasp and what made me moan.
“More?” he asked, though it barely sounded like a question.
“Yes.”
“Please,” I added.
One finger slid inside me, then another. Stretching me and moving in a rhythm that built the pressure inside me higher and higher.
I grabbed at the sheets, needing something to hold onto as he worked me open. His thumb found that bundle of nerves above where his fingers moved in circles that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Look at me.”
I forced my eyes open, meeting his gaze.
He was watching my face, cataloging every reaction.
His fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving me empty and aching.
Before I could protest, he dropped to his knees beside the bed.
His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me toward the edge. Then to his mouth.
“Zane—”
Whatever I was going to say died when his tongue touched me.
I had never felt anything like it. The wet heat of his mouth, the way his tongue moved in patterns that made my entire body tense with pleasure.
And I was folding quickly, coming apart in seconds.
My hands found his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands. Pulling him closer even though I wasn’t sure I could take more.
He growled against me and the vibration pushed me right to the edge.
“I’m going to—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
I shattered, pleasure crashing through me in waves that left me shaking and gasping his name.
He didn’t stop. Just kept working me through it until the pleasure bordered on pain and I was pulling at his hair, begging him to stop, to keep going, I didn’t even know anymore.
Finally, he pulled back.
I lay there boneless and breathless, watching through half-lidded eyes as he stood and began removing his own clothes.
“Are you really doing it this time?”