My chest squeezes and throat tightens.
What if she didn’t wake up? What if the fall was worse, if she landed harder? What if I lost her?
The thoughts spiral, each one darker and more fucked than the last, until I can barely breathe.
I need?—
Fuck, I don’t even know what I need.
Yes, I do.
I need to be closer. Even closer than we are now. Need to feel her. Need to know she’s real and alive and mine.
I trail my hand down her side, over the curve of her hip. Her skin is so soft, so fucking perfect. She shifts a bit, murmuring something in her sleep.
I shouldn’t. She’s hurt. She needs rest.
But Ican’tstop myself.
My fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt she’s wearing, skating across her soft stomach. She’s so warm. I close my eyes and tell myself again and again—she’s alive. But feeling her warmth, her skin, seeing her chest rise and fall… it isn’t enough.
“Blake,” I whisper against her hair, even though I know she’s asleep.
I ease her onto her back, being careful of her head. She doesn’t wake, just sighs and turns her face toward me. Always toward me, like I’m her anchor, even in her dreams.
God, she’s beautiful. Even with the bandage wrapped around her head, even exhausted and bruised, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I slide my hand higher, cupping her tit in my palm, rubbing my finger over her nipple until it pebbles in my hand. I’m already hard and dripping.
I shift to position myself between her legs, and she parts for me instinctively.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur, pressing kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
She stirs again and moans softly in her sleep.
“Shh, Angel. Just let me take care of you.”
I slide her underwear down her legs, then free myself from my boxers. The head of my cock brushes against her pussy and I have to bite back a groan so I don’t wake her.
It takes everything in me not to bury myself inside her in one thrust. I need to. It’s the only way I’ll know she’s safe, that she’s mine.
I reach with one hand and glide a finger between her lips. “Mmm, fuck.” She’s already so wet and warm for me. I can’t hold back.
Lining my cock up with her entrance, I push inside slowly, inch by inch, feeling her stretch around me. She’s so fucking tight. So perfect.
“Shit,” I grit out, fisting the sheet to keep from fucking her as hard as I want to.
She hears me. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused. “Damon?” That raspy, sleepy voice does something to me.
“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” I stay still, buried deep inside her, just feeling her pulse around me. “Go back to sleep.”
“What are you…” Her question trails off into a soft moan as I pull out halfway and push back in.
“Just. Need. To. Be. Inside. You,” I say, punctuating each word with a shallow thrust. I’m breathing hard, about to lose it. So I pull out and kneel back, staring at her. My Angel. Spread for me, her pussy so wet and perfect. Her shirt hiked up above her tits. “I need to feel you, I need to know you’re okay.”
Her hands wrap around my back, and she digs her nails in, grounding me. “I’m okay,” she whispers. “I’m right here.”
“I know. I just—” My voice cracks. “When I saw you on that floor, all that blood?—”
