Dear Z,

Struggle is a part of what you are built from. It's made of rocks, sand, sun and stars.

It's originated of particles from the defeat and purpose.

It's composed of sins and triumphs.

It's contrived of love and hate.

It's created you.

You are struggle.

• • •

I don't know what I'm doing here but whatever it is, it's absolutely positively wrong. The pulse in my neck was bursting through my veins. I was in the course of denial. We haven't spoken about what happened in the woods today. I know I can't. Probably will never.

However, I feel like the make a wish kid where this dream of mine could come true and alive with me, staying with me till flowing away when I pass on to the afterlife. Yet I will always keep it in me forever.

I swatted that thought as I look up to him. No! I don't want that forbidden dream to come true because it will never happen and though, some parts of it had already happened and they were the devil's wet dream to me.

He didn't answer my question and confusion eroded me. He acts like this...animal who is bent on taking what he wants and yet again, there is nothing even close that resembles that same animal. It's gone and this keeps going back and forth. Back and forth.

"You don't make any sense to me." I whisper the words, letting it absorb in the air.

As I look into the depths of his unfathomable and uncomprehending eyes, I try not to fall in a little deeper. The brownie warm gone, replaced with dark chocolate, molten and cold. His scent of old spice tantalizing me so vigorously.

"I don't need to be." His cockiness showing. His smirk deepening. The bastard thinks I am under his spell. Oh Hell No!

My hand, with a mind of their own, walk a path to his neck. Gripping the ends of his hair, he narrows his eyes at me when I pulled harder.

"What are you up to now?" He said, suspiciously. If he plays with me back and forth, so can I!

"Nothing, just the fact that I need to kick you down a notch."

His face was oozing with brilliant confidence that would make all women weak in their knees, that could have stifled the words out of my throat but it didn't. I needed to persevere. So I hit him in the spot I know he would hurt.

"Z, you never did answer my question."

"I answer to no one, Rose." I move in closer, just enough to rake my nipples against his hard chest, enjoying his pained silent groan.

And the hurting starts.

"Oh sweetheart but you answer to me." I turn my tone huskier, sexier. I have forgotten what we are speaking about but whatever is said, is said with a touch. I play and fiddle with short stands of his hair and I move my fingers to his jaw, that prickled my hand. He hasn't been shaving. The shadow on his jaw growing deeper and roguish. So manly.

"I wonder how this would feel." I say as my hands caresses the sharp prickles of his dark stubble. My eyes hooded, I lower my mouth to his ear. "Against my lips...against my thighs....against my pussy."

His eyes flared back with righteous fever. He pressed me further into the wall. His body covering me and I try not to let out a moan. My head was spinning with his formidable presence in my space.

Sliding his hand lower down my back, he grabs a hold of my ass. Twisting the fabric of my dress. Feeling me so up. Pushing me against him that I could identify the erected length of him between us.

I kiss the skin beneath his ear and he growls under his breath. My smile coaxing out of me as I kissed him here, there and there. My hands roving over this strong back, his buffed chest. The veins of his arms exposed from his sleeve acts like a catalyst to this steamy moment.

"I wonder if you would be rough with me or gentle? ...I bet you like rough." I was almost close to telling him of the evidence of his rough nature I saw in him on the forest floor. So close to acknowledging it. I must tread carefully.

I know what happened back there but I don't see the need to talk about it, discuss it. None of that. Then it makes this...seem more real. More real to deal with it. The one thing I can't handle.

But I'm a fucking hedonistic. A bloody nymph when I feel all of him pressed so rightfully against me. The urge to continue this game, this heedless conversation was tempting. Too tempting to resist.

"Got you thinking about it, didn't I?" I say breathlessly even when the picture I painted comes flashing in my vision.

Excitedly, I kiss my way down his neck. His low growls had me shaking. Tastefully, I unbuttoned his slacks. Dragging the zip as I lick a line down his throat to his collarbone and just like that, I easily slip into his pants only to have him stop me by grabbing my wrist.

His ragged breath told me what he wanted but his alpha heart grappled mine. "Careful now, Rose. You are treading on the dangerous roads."

"Like you did earlier with-" Fuck! Fuck! I can't believe myself! I almost said it but it must have been expressed on my face because it took one look for Z to comprehend my thoughts.

"What were you about to say?"Unconditionally, I gulped and I regretted it instantly. That's a huge tell. Telling him I'm uncomfortable and scared about what he was talking about.

His lips grazed mine and the chaotic heart beat of mine thudded loud. "You can't even talk about it, can you?" The smirk was full on, displayed with such psychotic tendencies that words weren't needed to demonstrate his power suddenly overcoming me.

I pushed at his chest, not wanting to play anymore. Even though my panties were getting soaked. I had to get out of here. So I did the most insane crazy thing.

I slapped him. Right across his face. The sound was crisp in the room.

"That's for calling me a bitch, bitch!" I panted when his face remained stoic. Remained immovable, even with the force of my slap.

I waited. For him to react. Call me a name. Leaving me here while he stalks off. None of that.

Then, it dawned.

This was Z.

Zaid Edris, a man who never messed around. Who stood when the struggle got real. Who fought harder when the fight got dirty. He had the integrity, he had the knowledge and he had the bold like passion. He was all things men want to be made of.

This was him.

And I was...just breathing. Existing.

In a wake of a second, he grips the material of my dress and pulls me toward him. My fingers were twitching as they grabbed on to his shirt. It was warm with his body heat. A heat I wanted most badly at this moment yet I shrouded myself from it.

He was angry but it was a leaden anger. "You should be taught a lesson for slapping me like that." His voice was rocks and gravel chucked under a tire.

His free hand slide down and cupped my pussy through my dress. I bite my lip, keeping the moan inside.

"You like pushing my buttons, hmm?" He rubbed his palm against me, sending electric buzz through my clit.

"That would mean I care enough about you to push your buttons?" My scowl deepening as I watch his rugged face.

"Oh, you care enough. You care enough to slap me. To push my buttons. To make me run after you. You fucking care." He bent lower, pressing a kiss along my jaw. "You might deny it. You might never acknowledge it but whenever you see me, it will all come rushing back."

I glared at him as a grasp tore from my lips as his finger slide up and down the v of my dress.

I gripped his shirt tighter. "I hate you."

He smirked with such dazzle and enigma I almost dropped to my knees. He is evil. I never knew him to be so evil.

"I know." He groaned when his hands rucked my dress up, hooking my panties down till he kneeled and balled the black lacy fabric into his pocket. He looked up, standing while patting his pocket. "For safekeeping."

I scoff. "Oh yeah? You won't masturbate to it? Wrap my panties around your cock?"

His eyes sparked with fervor. "You are a bad girl, Rose."

Without waiting for my response, he claims my mouth. His tongue teasing and stroking mine as his fingers climbed up, sneaking under the curtain of my dress and pushed apart my thighs. Then, he slapped me right on my clit.

I bucked, whimpered into his mouth. He rasps, "That's what a bad girl likes."

Another slap on my cunt and he swallows my cries. His breath explores mine, taking it away. I felt that intense feeling rolling my spine, spreading through my body. "You are dripping all over my hand."

I bit his lip, twisting the fabric of his shirt to hold on in my hands as he delved a single digit inside me. He worked me hard, rapidly driving me as I grounded my hips to his rhythm. He pulled his reddish lips away and breathed out, "You dirty girl...you love this, don't you? Me talking filthy while I finger your drenched pussy? I could swallow you all up like fucking desert."

Another finger joined, filling me up as his thumb darted along my clit, circling it. Rubbing it. I let out a low moan.

"Say you want me. Say you like my fingers. Say more please." He pushed the slip off my shoulder and when the cold air prickled my bare breasts, his mouth assaulted, sucking my nipple. I whimpered and my eyes clench close as I tried to chase my orgasm.

"Say it." He said through his gritted teeth. "Say it right now or I'll stop."

I flashed my eyes open and I knew he wasn't kidding. He'd stop all this beautiful sinful glory if I didn't say it.

But this was all going against me. I never say please. I don't rattle under submission. I'm a smart badass bitch but all that came crippling down when he slowed, his mouth popping open and leaving my nipple in warm wetness and aching, I knew then I signed my destiny.

"More please."

He growled. "That's my girl."

His thumb seized my clit, lashing on it with such merciless strokes that I quivered hard in my heels. His groan rumbled through my chest as he flicked and teased my nipples with his sinister tongue.

When I slowly raised my knee, spreading myself open to him. He grunted, "Just like that. You will only spread those beautiful thighs for me. This pussy I'm finger fucking is mine. All fucking mine!"

All those words craved a dark part in my soul. It was twisted, priceless and rich. "Z." I moan his name loud on my lips.

His fingers driving me to the edge, my hips moving to it. My control snapping. His control conquering mine. His acid was toxic and welcoming. His name only a devil's chant in my head. "That's right. It's Z making you come."

He bit down on one swollen red nipple and my breath shallowed, his tempo increasing that I could hear the slosh-slosh sound my pussy was making. My legs shook as he raised his head and took my mouth, ruinous chuckle reverberated on me.

When he pinched my clit, my back arched with a sharp turn. My bones exploded and cracked into a cataclysmic ecstasy of light. My hips rolled in waves of the crash, taking me into the ocean. "Z!" I bite his lip fiercely.

When I came back to the den where we were, the party's echo mere few feet away, the cold reality splashed me. I push past against him, not seeing him but the exit to where I can leave even when all this self loathing seems to follow me out. What have I done?

With a hard yank, I cover myself and trip, loading my footing to only catch myself from falling and slamming my face unto the floor and my eyes gorge out and flushed cheeks when I see Wade.

His eyes flabbergasted and shock echoed from him. The unique awestruck and faint knowing look crept in the sides.

When I felt Z stop right behind me, I knew he saw Wade, making me believe this was real. I'm not seeing things. This is not a mirage.

This is reality. That was Wade, and he is seeing me like this. Like a woman who was intimate with a man. A man that was Z. My cousin.

And my stomach sunk.

Crossing his arms, Wade barked. "Someone explain to me what the hell is going on?"