His mouth moved against mine with more certainty, the initial hesitation melting, and I could hear him. I couldfinallyhearhim. He was scared and angry and sad, so infinitely sad, but he was trying the only way he knew how, and just like when he was trying to learn ASL, it was enough. I answered him in the same way, letting the moment stretch, giving him every opportunity to sink or swing, pull back or dive forward. I knew I wasn’t a body in his grasp; I was my heart, and he would always treat that with the care it deserved. His breath hitched when I shifted in his lap, my thighs settling closer around him, the heat between us undeniable, humming through every point of contact. I could feel the strength in him even when he was being gentle, the control it took for him not to grip, not to pull, or not to let instinct take over, but I wanted him to.
Rafe had always seceded to me when we were together, and I loved him for taking care of me like that, but he also deserved to be taken care of in the way he needed to be. I kissed him again, my lips brushing the corner of his mouth, along his jaw, feeling the faint rasp of stubble. His head tipped back slightly, a quiet breath of pure relief leaving him. I traced my fingers down his chest, following the steady rise and fall of his breathing, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt and the tension in the muscles there.
His body responded to every touch like it was precious, becoming more responsive to me as I explored him. His hands tightened briefly before easing again, like he was reminding himself to stay with me, and I knew that he probably was. I slowed, not wanting to tip him past that edge. Our foreheads brushed, noses grazing, breaths mingling in the small space between us as the world outside the car faded. Heat coiled low in my stomach, but there was something else too, something steadier and deeper. Every brush of his fingers, every careful press of his mouth against mine…it felt like we were reclaiming something the world had tried to steal from us, and I knew that we were. Somehow, some way,alwayswe were.
His touch was worshipful. Some part of me had been afraid that eight years was too long from the sexual side of things, that he would’ve forgotten his want for me, but if anything, it felt stronger. I smiled softly at him, my fingers still curled in his hair, holding him close without trapping him, letting him feel that we were moving forward together, one slow breath at a time. We didn’t need to rush. I wouldn’t let the world and circumstances andeverythingwe’d been through force us to not care about this—because this, us, being together? It suddenly felt like the most vital thing, theonlything. If we dared to stop, then I would simply die. I needed him so much, and I knew he did too.
His gaze lingered on my mouth, then drifted lower, taking in the way my body pressed against his, how my thighs framed his hips. Starvation flickered across his expression, and his hands shifted from worshipful to firm, devastating need, his palms spreading wider along my back as if he was finally allowing himself to feel the full weight of me there. The subtle change sent a ripple of anticipation through me, my breath catching as his fingers dug in just enough to ground us both. I rocked against him slowly. His jaw tightened, a low sound leaving his throat that vibrated against my chest, and his grip faltered for a second before returning stronger.
He buried his face in my neck then, my heart leaping at the sensation of his mouth dragging over the curve of my pulse. I tilted my head back to give him better access, my hands sliding from his hair down to his shoulders, feeling the solid breadth of him beneath my palms. My hips moved again, a little closer, a little bolder, and his hands answered immediately, sliding lower along my back, thumbs pressing into the curve of me. His chest rose faster beneath mine, and when he lifted his head to look at me again there was no fear in his eyes anymore, only want threaded through with that same loving devotion.
I smiled at him, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw.I’m yours, baby, I signed, needing him to read that truth in the way I rocked against him.Completely yours. Whatever you need, take it.
Rafe stilled, his teeth clenched. He started frantically looking around me.
Baby?I followed his focus, trying to understand what he needed when he finally reached down to his ankle and tugged free a long hunting knife. My body went rigid, terror creeping in before Rafe gently picked up one of my hands and pressed the hilt into it. He folded my fingers firmly around the grip, his face determined.What…what is this for?I asked.
His response was immediate, his dark eyes pleading with mine.Me.
You trust yourself that little?I signed.
He lifted his hands, his fingers shaking. He wanted to sign, to talk, and I saw frustration edging in before he finally settled on reaching out and pressing his palm firmly over my heart. He stared at me imploringly, desperately, and tears gathered in my eyes.
I don’t need this, Rafe, I told him without any doubt.I trust you.
Don’t, he signed, pain flickering across his face as he did.
I leaned over and sat the knife down in the floorboard, shaking my head as I came back to him.Baby, no, I said.I will yell for Kane if something goes wrong, but I will not hurt you. Ever. I feel bad enough that I slapped you in the woods. I'd reacted on instinct after your punch, and I wish I hadn't.
Rafe traced an unsteady finger over my cheek, the swelling gone and only a faint bruise left behind. Then his eyes flitted between me and the knife, like he was seconds from snatching it back up and forcing it into my palm. I shook my head again and grasped his face.I want you, I signed.Protective you.Wonderful you. And yes, Rafe Creed, even broken you. We put each other back together before, and we will do it again.
He released a torn hitch of breath. Then he wrapped his arms around me, his biceps flaring as he crushed me against him. He pressed a hard kiss to my forehead, my nose, and when he reached my mouth, I sank. He kissed me with everything he’d been holding back. I felt the shift in him, the moment the careful restraint finally gave way, his body leaning into mine. One of his hands caught the hem of my shirt and dragged it up in one smooth motion, the fabric peeling away from my skin before he tossed it aside, breaking the kiss for half a second only to devour me again. His palms were back on me, spreading over my ribs and moving higher. The contact sent a sharp pulse of heat between my thighs, my body arching instinctively into his. He cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive skin in perfect strokes.
I broke the kiss with a breathless moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders as desire flared, settling deep in my stomach. His dark eyes stayed fixed on my face, intense and searching, like he was memorizing every tiny shift of my body, before his gaze dipped and his breath stuttered. I didn’t understand why until I realized he was taking in the sight of my raven tattoo between my breasts. With everything, he’d never gotten to see it. His throat worked, true tears gathering in his eyes when he ran his fingers lightly across the wings, trailing goosebumps in their wake. He took in the way one side was lighter than the other, his head shaking imperceptibly, almost in disbelief. Then he lifted his hands at last and signed perfectly, as if no injury could possibly stand in the way—Beautiful.Perfect.Rafe brushed a knuckle under my injured eye.You, he signed with a soft smile and brought my mouth back to his. My hips rolled against him again, and he grew harder and thicker with each movement. Need tightened between us, and he dropped one hand to mywaist, gripping me possessively and guiding the rhythm, needing the friction, needing more.
I reached for him with urgency, my hands sliding down his chest, fingers trembling just slightly as I found the edge of his shirt and tugged it up. He lifted his arms without hesitation, letting me pull it over his head, the fabric catching briefly on his shoulders before I tossed it aside. My hands were on him immediately, warm skin stretched tight over muscle. I kissed down his chest, slow at first, then heavier, my mouth following the lines of him, tasting him, feeling the way his breath hitched beneath every press of my lips. I kept going, trailing kisses lower, shifting carefully until my knees found the floorboard between his legs, the cramped space doing nothing to cool the fire burning through me. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers and tugged them down, feeling the tension in his thighs as he lifted just enough to help me, his breath coming harder now, chest rising fast. The hunger in his eyes followed every movement, dark and burning and trusting all at once. He was so large and thick when he was set free, his cock pulsing upward against his belly button, but my hand knocked something near his boot, distracting me.
The knife.
Without even looking at it, I shoved it away, sliding it under the seat until it disappeared from sight. The simple motion felt like pushing away the last shadow between us and choosing him again without fear. Then my attention went back to where it belonged. I looked up at him from my knees, my hands resting warm on his legs, the sight of him undone causing my core to ache. I held his gaze and leaned closer, feeling the heat between us thicken. My fingers tightened gently against his legs before I closed the last inch of space, letting my mouth meet his length, pouring everything I felt into the contact. I sucked down, tasting him with abandon and loving the power of makingsomeone as terrifying and brutal as Rafe Creed shake with need. A groan vibrated through his entire body, his thighs shuddering around me. His hands tangled in my hair, not pulling or forcing, just gripping onto me like a lifeline. I moved with intention, unhurried, letting him feel each wave of sensation instead of rushing him through it, knowing how much control he’d always held and how much it meant for him to finally let go.
His thighs tightened and loosened in small, instinctive movements beneath my palms, his body answering mine slowly without fear. He thrust lightly into my mouth, and I moved to take him deeper, but suddenly he grasped my shoulder and tugged gently on my hair. I released his cock and brought my head back, looking up at him, worried I’d done it wrong somehow. It wasn’t my first blowjob, but it was the first one I’d ever actually wanted to give someone or that I’d ever really been fully present for. But he didn’t look upset. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment before opening again to find me, my throat tightening at what I saw. The gold flecks, that little bit of light that only seemed to come alive in his eyes when I was around, had finally returned in its fullest form. He tugged on me until I was climbing upward, his hands combing down to my hips and helping me out of my leggings. Then he pulled me atop him, kissing me deeply and sliding into me in one silent, breathtaking thrust, holding me there as I gasped, peppering my chin and neck with small kisses.
We were being fools, letting ourselves heal with each other again, but I realized with profound clarity that protecting each other would always be worth any pain that followed.
When Kane cracked the privacy screen, Rafe and I were clothed once more. I had Rafe’s head in my lap, the love of my life fast asleep and more relaxed than I’d seen him in years. My fingers brushed through his hair, my heart so wonderfully full as I just watched him sleep. I was exhausted, but I refused to miss a second of his calm. Grief and trauma, they were never a single wave; they were an ocean prone to catastrophe, and I knew it was best to hold onto every small moment of hope for however long I had it. I’d taken it for granted—Alex and the Ravens. That blip of beauty they gave me…Itstilltears me apart. I wish I’d danced every night on that roof instead of only one. I wish Alex had told me he was sick that very first night so that, maybe, I wouldn’t have wasted those first months suffering in paradise. But I couldn’t take it back. Any of it. I could only live in the moment I had, and the moment was watching Rafe Creed sleep.
“I need a rest, sweetheart. I’m gonna pull off,” Kane said, rolling down the privacy screen a bit more when he saw we were clothed. I hadn’t noticed it fully, but there was something off about his voice.
“Sure,” I murmured, never taking my eyes off Rafe.
“I gave Mickey a call,” he continued, turning on his blinker and pulling the car into a rest stop. “I caught them up on the estate. He’s looking into where else Viktor may have properties.”
I jerked my head up at that. “Properties?Plural?”
Kane was nearly monotone, strangely lacking of any emotion. “Greed is a fucking plague, and through the blackest hearts, it spreads endlessly.” He parked the car, rolled down his window, and lit a cigarette, barely blinking. Then he looked into the rear view mirror again, catching my gaze, and a chill rolled down my spine. “You look alive. I’m assuming things went well.”
“He’s back,” I managed, tracing a finger gently along the curve of Rafe's face and the sharp outline of his jaw.
