Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse-Chapter 502: Waiting Forever

The moment of silence seemed to stretch on to infinity before I heard his soft chuckled. Ever so gently, he braced his knuckle under my chin and lifted my face up. "I’m not scared of you because you’re fragile, or you are the Devil," he said, slowly as if he wanted to make sure I understood what he was saying. "But because I know myself well enough. I don’t know how to be gentle with someone I want this much, and the idea of hurting you? I would rather reach into my chest, pull out my heart and put it on your shelf, than leave a single bruise on your flesh."

The rollercoaster ride I was on brought me back to another peak, another chance to have everything I wanted and needed.

"I’ve never needed you to be gentle," I whispered, begging him to see the truth in my words. "I just need you."

"You don’t understand," Chang Xuefeng sighed, his finger moving from my chin to stroke my face. "You’re the only one I have been gentle with."

I reached for him, my fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt as my palms pressed against his abs. Feeling his muscles jump beneath my touch made me want to be braver, to explore his body like I had only dreamed of. "Then let me play, just for a while. Let me pretend like we’re not broken. Like there’s no world outside this room. Let me know what it feels like to have a wish come true."

He breathed in through his nose, slow and trembling as if trying to steel himself. "What do you want to do now?" he asked, looking down at me, his eyes unreadable.

"You," I said, immediately. No hesitation. No smile. Just the truth. "I want to do you."

The effect of my words was instant, and I couldn’t hold back my smile if I tried.

His hand came to my waist, pulling me into him. Not rough. Not yet. But firm. Solid. Real. I could feel each finger as it held me tight, caressing my skin like he, too, was worried this was nothing more than a dream.

Every so slowly, I reached up and pressed my mouth to his. Tentative at first, testing. I was terrified that he would pull away, that he would tell me that we couldn’t do this, that we mustn’t do this.

When he didn’t push me away, I felt my body relaxing into the kiss more and more.

He tasted like warmth and moonlight and something that might have been restraint if it weren’t already unraveling. My hands slid up his chest, over his ribs, until I could tug his shirt up and over his head.

True to his word, he let me play.

Silently. His hands never moved from my waist, even as I continued to explore him.

My fingers never stopped their motions, mapping out every inch of his skin that I could access. His scars, both new and old, fascinated me. What on earth could leave a scar like that on a God? But I held back my questions, not wanting to break the spell we had going.

Parts of his skin had what looked like ruins, black tattoos that seemed to come alive around his rib cage but faded from sight when I tried to touch them.

And then there was the faint dip at his hip that made my mouth water.

"You’re beautiful," I breathed, a little dazed at the golden skin in front of me. It was all I could see, and I was dying for a taste.

He huffed a laugh. "You’ve seen me rip demons apart," he said, like there was a direct correlation between what he could do and his looks. I really hated to break it to him, but that whole ripping demons and humans apart just made him that much hotter.

"And still," I smirked, my fingers grazing over a scar.

I kissed him again, slower this time, letting myself lean into the safety of him. Growing up, I had never been coddled, never been cherished, until I was at the lowest point in my life, and a literal Angel walked into my world.

But every time Chang Xuefeng held me, every time he looked at me like I wasn’t chaos wrapped in skin, like I wasn’t the Devil, it made me feel things I had no business feeling.

Not for someone so perfect.

I felt him shudder, like a wall inside had just collapsed. As if giving up a fight, his hands moved to my back, lifting me easily, and I let out a startled laugh as he shifted me more onto the bed, laying me down in the center like I was something sacred.

I let him hover there for a moment, taking in the picture of his body suspended above mine, the feeling of his breath fanning my face.

"If we do this," he said, "there’s no going back." It was like he was trying to warn me away. Silly man, didn’t he understand? Didn’t he realize? I had been his since the moment he walked into the cell in Camp Hell, pissed at me for killing his friend.

It was just that neither one of us knew it at that moment.

"I’ve never looked back a day in my life," I told him honestly. And even if I did look back, I would never count this as one of my mistakes.

Leaning down, he kissed me like he believed it. frёewebnoѵēl.com

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t soft.

It was reverent and raw, a contradiction born of restraint stretched too thin. A perfect description of the man himself.

His mouth claimed mine with devastating slowness, like he needed to memorize every curve of my lips with his own. Not a press. Not a peck. A confession told through touch and sin. His tongue teased my bottom lip before slipping past, tasting me like I was something holy. His hand moved from my jaw to my throat, not squeezing, just resting there, like he needed to feel my heartbeat under his palm in order to believe that I was real.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him back like a dying woman, like my body had been waiting forever for his.

And who knew? It probably had been.

Our mouths moved in sync, breath tangled, tongues brushing—hot, desperate, sinful.

He groaned low in his chest, the sound vibrating through my bones as my back arched up off the bed. And just when I thought he’d pull back, he deepened it. His teeth caught my lower lip, a soft bite followed by a soothing lick, as if to say:

Mine