He doesn’t even blink at my tone. Just leans back against the couch, his dark eyes locked on me. “Because I’ve been through worse,” he says, matter-of-fact. “And because I’m here. Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m around.”
The absurdity of that statement almost makes me laugh. As if he can stop the storm. As if his presence alone can hold back the wind, the rain, the very force of nature itself. It’s the kind of arrogant, ridiculous thing only he would say, and yet—there’s something about the way he says it that steadies me. Just a little.
I nod, not trusting myself to say anything without my voice breaking.
Hours pass before the storm finally starts to ease up. The noise fades, replaced by an eerie silence that somehow feels even worse.
Ezra moves to the chair by the fire, but I can feel him watching me.
I lie down on the couch, staring at the ceiling as the candlelight throws faint, flickering shadows across the walls. The house is quiet now, just the crackle of the fire and the occasional groan of the wind.
But sleep doesn’t come. Every time I close my eyes, I see flashes of lightning, feel the walls trembling all over again.
The storm is gone, but it’s still in my head, echoing like a ghost I can’t shake.
Bad weather has always been extra sucky for me. I don’t know why, but if I’m being honest with myself I’m just jumpy as fuck for no real reason.
I think about how the fact that I was snatched off the street will probably make that worse once we’re back on the mainland, and I cringe.
“Let’s get you to bed.” He stands in front of me and holds his hand out for me to take.
I glance at the fire, worrying my lip. We’ve slept with it burning most nights, but my nerves are on edge right now.
He notices.
“I won’t go to sleep. I’ll stay up and make sure everything is taken care of.” He shakes his hand. Reluctantly, I take it and let him help me to my feet.
In the bedroom, I snuggle into the blankets. I think he’ll go back to the living space, but instead the bed shifts behind me.
I tense, not because I don’t want him here but because I really don’t want him to fall asleep and leave the fire unattended.
He pulls my body against his, his big hand splaying over my stomach underneath my too-big sweater. “Relax, I’m just going to stay here with you until you fall asleep.”
I don’t respond, but my muscles do loosen a fraction.
We lay together like that for what feels like an hour. I have given up on sleep at this point, and I release a small huff of frustration.
Ezra shifts, moving his hand up to the mess that is my hair. He brushes it over my shoulder and nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. He breathes deep and moves his hand back to the flat plane of my stomach.
At the same time his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my sweatpants, his lips are soft and hot against my shoulder. “Can I help you sleep?”
I nod.
“Words.” He kisses me again, his hand not moving any further until I say what he wants to hear out loud.
“Yes.”
“Yes what, more mea?” he teases, and it would be infuriating if I wasn’t so desperate for something to calm my nerves.
“Yesplease.” I am not above begging, and I know he loves to hear it.
I grind my ass against his cock. He’s hard and I almost get off on the fact that I turn him on this much without doing anything other than existing in his space.
He places a wet, open-mouthed kiss at the base of my neck and groans softly. The sound vibrates against my skin.
“That’s my girl,” he says in response to answer, and I rub my ass against him harder, silently begging this time for him to fucking touch me.
He shifts his leg between mine and his thighs are so massive that the movement gives him all the access he needs. His thick fingers part me, and it’s actually embarrassing how wet I am for him.
