The Rose He Showed Off Is Putting Down Roots in a Garden of Her Own novel Chapter 150

Zane's breath hitched violently. "No," he rasped.

"You don't have one, or you just don't have the habit of using them?" she asked softly.

"I don't have any."

Elara wasn't about to risk taking him bare. Who could guarantee that the endless parade of girls at his club were clean?

Even if he had picked something up, there was always an incubation period.

But she couldn't exactly say that she was terrified he had a disease.

Since he was already pushed to the absolute edge, she had to find another way to appease him.

"Should we have one delivered?" she suggested tentatively.

His Adam's apple bobbed sharply, but he remained silent.

Elara assumed he was mentally weighing the consequences. Not every man was perfectly comfortable crossing the line with a married woman, especially when millions of dollars in business ties were tangled between them.

She understood his hesitation, even if it stung her pride just a little.

But he had been her savior more times than she could count. She needed to preserve this alliance, not let the night end in a humiliating rejection that would make their next boardroom meeting unbearable.

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her voice a sultry purr. "Zane... if we can't do the real thing tonight, I can still take care of you."

She was offering to use her hands or her mouth to give him his release.

A fierce shudder racked his frame as his arms crushed her against him, locking her in a vice-like grip.

He didn't say a word, but the desperate clench of his muscles told her everything she needed to know.

With a slow, agonizing roll of her hips, she ground down against him. A deep, feral groan tore instantly from his throat.

They were both experienced adults. Words were entirely unnecessary.

As she rolled her hips in a slow, torturous rhythm, his arms banded around her tight enough to bruise.

Suddenly, he surged upward and captured her lips.

Elara stiffened in shock. She never expected him to kiss her.

She was perfectly willing to engage in a physical transaction—she had even mentally prepared herself to service him—but kissing felt dangerously different.

In her heart, kissing was an act of profound intimacy. It belonged to love.

She instinctively tried to turn her face away, but Zane refused to let her escape. He cupped her jaw firmly, devouring her mouth with a bruising intensity, his tongue instantly sweeping past her parted lips to claim her with dominant, unapologetic heat.

Elara had no idea that Zane had fantasized about tasting her for years.

From his junior year in college all the way to his early thirties, this was all he had ever wanted.

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