“I have information,” she says, sitting straighter. “I wrote things down in my notebook. Names. Places. Things I overheard. I can help catch them.”
I look at her. Really look.
At the fire behind the fear. The strength she doesn’t even know she has. This woman was brave in hell. She’s braver now.
I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead, slow and steady.
Then something shifts. The space between us tightens. Her breathing changes. So does mine.
She’s here.
She'smine.
And I need her like air.
I rise without a word and strip off my jacket. The leather hits the floor. My sweat-soaked shirt follows, peeled from my skin and tossed aside. Her eyes track every inch like she’s starving and I’m the only thing that matters.
She is already reaching for me, pulling me in like she needs me closer, like the distance between heartbeats is too much.
Her shirt is loose. My fingers fist in the hem and drag it up over her head in one swift motion. She’s bare underneath, breasts flushed, nipples already peaked.
My breath punches out of me.
“Jesus, Grace,” I whisper. “You undo me.”
She grabs my belt, yanks me between her knees, and kisses me like she wants to make sure I don’t vanish.
It’s messy. Starved. Her hands slip up my chest, around the back of my neck, pulling me down to her as her legs wrap around my waist. The heat between her thighs scorches through my jeans.
I groan into her mouth, grind against her once, and feel how soaked she already is.
“No time,” she whispers. “Please.”
My hand slides down between us, fingers dipping between her folds. She’s dripping. Warm and ready and so fucking sweet I almost lose my mind.
I work my fly open, shove my jeans low enough, and line myself up. Her eyes are locked on mine, wide and wanting.
“Now,” she begs, voice breaking.
I thrust into her in one slow, deep stroke, burying myself to the hilt. Her body tightens around me instantly, velvet heat sucking me deeper. We both groan—hers sharp and high, mine broken and low.
“God,” I rasp. “You really feel like heaven.”
She arches under me, nails raking down my back. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t.
I fuck her deep and slow, each thrust a promise I can’t say out loud. She clings to me, breathing ragged, eyes glassy.
The bed creaks beneath us, but it’s not enough. I lift her, still buried inside her, and carry her the few feet to the kitchen counter, knocking aside a mug as I set her down. She gasps at the cold stone under her thighs, but then she’s grabbing me again, dragging me back in.
I slam into her hard, bracing my hands on either side of her hips, and she cries out, head falling back.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Take it, baby. All of it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasps, her heels digging into my back. “And you're mine.”
Her words wreck me.
