I expected him to be shocked, for a slur of a dozen questions about how I cooked or stayed safe. But when I looked up at him, his expression hadn’t changed. His steel-grey eyes softened. No surprise, just a deep, knowing shadow.
He knew.
He didn’t say it, but the way he traced the line of my nose with his thumb, his gaze lingering on my lips, told me he’d already noticed.
“It doesn’t make you less.” His voice was a low tremble against my back. “It just means I have to be louder in every other way.”
I shifted, turning slightly in his arms so I could see the hard line of his jaw in the firelight.
“What’s your favorite thing to do?” I whispered. A ghost of a smirk pulled at his lips, but his eyes stayed soft.
I expected him to say the gym, or the shooting range, or maybe just the silence of his house. But as the question hung in the air, Dane’s eyes changed. The hardness didn’t just fade; it dissolved into something soft and impossibly sad. He looked past me for a moment, as if he were seeing a ghost in the flickers of the fire.
“Building things,” he finally murmured.
“Building things?” I repeated.
“Building blocks. Castles that are destined to be knocked down ten minutes after they’re finished.” A small, pained smile touched his lips, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “There’s a peace in it. Making something, and knowing that for a little while, you’re the only thing keeping that world together.”
He cleared his throat, but the sadness lingered in the set of his jaw.
“I like being the one who makes sure the walls don’t fall down,” he added, his voice dropping an octave. “Even if I have to do it from the outside looking in.”
His hand disappeared under the thick hem of the throw, his knuckles dragging against the heavy fabric before cupping the fullness of my thigh. He squeezed the soft flesh I normally ignored. He didn’t look away. He stared at me like I was his to touch.
“But this is a hard second,” he teased, his tone low.
My heart ached as I laughed. The light from the windows was blocked by the high back of his throne-like seat, leaving us in a private world of gold and shadow. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the dark silhouette of the forest, casting long shadows that stopped at the edge of the rug. The high back of his seat acted as a shield, carving out a pocket of shadow where the firelight couldn’t reach, even with the vast windows behind us. I felt a different kind of hunger now—not the desperate, frantic need from before, but a deep craving.
“Dane,” I whispered, shifting so I was kneeling between his legs. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I touched his chest. I tilted my head back and looked into his eyes. “I want you.”
The air between us charged. I waited for him to flip me over and take what I offered. Instead, his large hand came up and covered mine. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t throw me down on the floor either.
“Since I dragged you from the party, your body has gone through a lot, Babygirl. I told you I’d give you everything you need, and right now? You need to justbe.”
“But I’m sure,” I pressed, a small part of me afraid that if we didn’t do it now, the courage would leave me once we stepped out of this room.
“I know you are. And we will,” he promised. “But there’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The pressure to perform or to finish this vanished, replaced by a calmness I hadn’t anticipated. He had a natural knack for knowing what I needed. I sat back down, my back to him. He pulled the weighted blanket around us, tucking me into him.
We stayed there, watching the dust motes dance in the beam of light. His arms were a sanctuary.
Shards
The bathroom door banged open as Dane carried me in. When I woke from my nap, he’d decided it was time to bathe. He chuckled, carrying me like I weighed nothing. Before I could protest, he threw me over his shoulder. His hand smacked my ass, and I gasped.
“Are you manhandling me right now?” I huffed, slapping his back.
“Nope,” he said. He popped his lips on the p.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re a dirty girl. I need to clean you up.”
“It’s okay. Let me go. I’ll shower at home.” Panic sharpened my voice. The thought of him seeing me naked in a bright room shot ice through my veins.
“I may not have fucked that pretty pussy raw today, but I’ve pushed your body to the limit. I know you’re aching.”
