There’s nothing careful or tentative about the way she seals her mouth to mine. This is desire. Need. Passion. This is Grace finally letting herself want.
Pulling Grace closer, I slide one hand up her spine, the other resting just above her ass. She steals the breath from my lungs, but what the hell do I need air for anyway when I have her in my arms?
She’s here. Alive. Stronger than she’s ever been. Every stroke of her tongue, every tiny moan, every shift of her hips tells me she’s choosing this.
She’s choosing me.
When Grace finally breaks off the kiss, she peers up at me, breathless. Completely unafraid. “It’s been days since you…since we almost…”
Brushing my thumb across her cheek, I catch a single tear that slips free. “I didn’t want to push you, darlin’.” My chest is too tight. My heart pounds like it wants to escape right into her hands. I’m not surprised. It’s hers, after all. “We have time. There’s no need to do anythin’ unless—or until—you’re sure you’re ready.”
Her lips part, eyes searching mine, and then she fists her hands in my shirt, holding on as if her life depends on it. “Of all the choices I’ve made and don’t remember, there’s one I’m sure of. You, Aaron. It’s always been you.”
I gather her in my arms, crushing her against me. Because if I don’t hold on tight, I’ll come apart. My mouth finds hers, and I take my time. Each kiss is a slow, reverent promise I’ll spend my whole damn life keeping.
Coming up for air, I trail my lips along her jaw and down to the hollow of her throat. “I love you, Grace. I loved the woman you were. But I love the woman you are now even more.”
Every touch, every taste of her skin, every tiny moan pulls me deeper. And then she hooks her fingers in my belt loops and tugs me toward the door.
I follow, stumbling along with my dick so hard, each step is pure torture. I ache to carry her to the bed, lay her down gently, and hold her so close, she’ll never doubt a single damn thing ever again. But this ain’t about what I want. It never was. Never will be.
Grace isn’t mine to claim. I’m hers.
She deserves the chance to choose this—to choose me—without the weight of anything that came before. And I’ll walk through Hell barefoot and burning to prove it to her.
We reach the bed, and for a moment, she stops, shoulders so tense, it’s like she’s holdin’ up the whole damn world. I’m about to tell her I’ll carry the weight when she guides my hands to the hem of her sweatshirt.
“Are you sure, darlin’?” The words escape, dry as dust and twice as broken, and she ain’t the only one breathin’ hard.
Her lips press together, part, and a breath catches in her throat. “I’m scared,” she whispers. “I don’t remember how not to be. But when I look at you—when you touch me—I know.” Tears shimmer in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “You’ll never hurt me.”
I can’t speak. I don’t have the words to tell her how strong she is. Or what her trust means to me. Slowly, I tug off her sweatshirt, then toss it away. Her nipples are hard points under her pink lace bra, and I dip my head to capture one between my lips.
Goosebumps cover her shoulders and race down her back under my palm. She melts against me, her arms winding around my neck as I curl my fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants.
“If you need me to stop?—”
She silences me with a searing kiss. Shoving the offending material to the floor, I drop to my knees in front of her lace-covered mound. God, her scent is enough to undo me. I could come right here, with my zipper threatening to do permanent damage, and not care a lick.
Grace eases herself down onto the bed, legs spread, and I press my nose to the lace. The gentle pressure coaxes a moan from her lips.
Her thighs tremble, but not from nerves. From arousal.
“AJ… I need you. Naked.” Her soft words carry so much emotion. She’s still scared—maybe she always will be—but underneath, her fierce determination to survive, to fight, to claim the life she wants is so damn strong.
I get to my feet, strip off my paint-splattered flannel, and work my jeans and briefs over my erection with a wince.
Grace lets her gaze trail up and down my body, until it settles on my dick. Her eyes go glassy for a beat, but then she licks her lips and scoots back on the bed. “Come here. I want to touch you.”
When I stretch out next to her, the dark shadows that have haunted her gaze for the past two weeks finally start to fade away.
She presses her lips to my collarbone, trailing kisses across my chest and up my neck. Her teeth score the shell of my ear as she skims her fingers over my aching shaft.
“Fuuuuuck.”
I’m not gonna last if she keeps touching me like this, but I won’t stop her. Not when she’s just finding her footing.
Moving lower, she swirls her tongue over my nipple. My God. The sensation shoots straight to my dick. Her hand slides along my length to the precum beading on my crown. Her breath stutters.
