The sight of her coming apart on top of me, combined with the exquisite pressure of her body squeezing mine, shatters what little control I have left. My balls tighten and my hips buck upward of their own accord, driving deeper inside her slick pussy.
“Sutton,” I groan, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “I’m going to—fuck, fuck, Jesus fuck.” My orgasm hits me like a freight train, every muscle in my body tensing as pleasure tears through me. I pull her down against my chest, burying my face in her neck as I empty myself inside her, my body shuddering with aftershocks as I hold her close.
For several heartbeats, we stay locked together, my arms holding her against me as our ragged breathing starts to calm and then I feel her shoulders shake against me. At first, I think she’s laughing—the kind of giddy, post-orgasmic laughter that sometimes happens—but then I hear a soft, broken sound that’s unmistakably a sob.
She’s crying.
Hard.
Oh, shit.
Ice floods my veins.
Oh God.
What have I done?
Panic shoots through me, instantly clearing the post-orgasmic haze. My hands loosen their grip as I lift her away from me enough that I can see her face. “Sutton?” My heart plummets when I see tears streaming down her face. “Shit. Did I hurt you? Fuck. I’m so sorry, I—” She was fine. She seemed fine, but now she’s falling apart in my arms, and I don’t know why or how to fix it.
“Talk to me,” I plead, brushing tears from her cheeks with trembling thumbs. “Please. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt—” I whisper, my throat tight with fear, my own tears threatening to spill. “Fuck. I should have stopped. I should have?—”
“No,” she finally manages, her voice cracking. “You didn’t… you didn’t hurt me, Shepherd.” She shakes her head against my chest, her damp hair clinging to my skin. “Please don’t apologize.”
“Then why are you crying?” I ask, my hands hovering uncertainly over her skin, afraid to touch her now. “Please, Sutton. I want to understand. Talk to me. I’m here. I’m right here.”
She takes a shuddering breath, her forehead pressed against my chest as her tears continue to fall. “Because I’ve never…” She pauses, struggling to find words. “I’ve never felt like that before. Like I was…safe. Cherished. Like I…like I mattered. Like I’m worth something.”
The weight of her admission crushes me and I wrap my arms around her again, cradling her against me as if she’s the tiny glass swan resting on my kitchen windowsill. My throat tightens with emotion I can barely contain.
“You do matter,” I whisper fiercely into her hair, my voicerough with emotion. “So much, Sutton. So fucking much. And you’re so much more than just…something. To me, you’re worth everything.”
She’s still trembling in my arms, her body warm and soft against mine, and I’m overwhelmed by the need to protect her. To somehow erase whatever pain has made her believe she doesn’t deserve gentleness or kindness…or love.
“I didn’t know it could be like this,” she confesses, her voice small against my skin. “I thought sex was…something I was always going to have to just get through. I never knew it could feel like something I’d want,” she continues, her tears falling, wetting my chest. “That it could be about more than just…enduring.”
My heart breaks at her words. I hold her tighter, wanting to shield her from whatever—whoever—made her feel that way. I gently roll us to our sides, our bodies connected, my arms cradling her against me. Her eyes are red-rimmed but so beautiful as they search mine. I brush away a tear with my thumb, letting my hand linger on her cheek.
“Sutton,” I whisper, stroking her hair, “sex should never be something you endure. It should be something you enjoy, something that makes you feel good, connected…loved.” I press my lips to hers, tasting the salt of her tears. “I’m so sorry that anyone ever made you feel otherwise. You deserve so much better.”
Her eyes find mine, still glistening with tears, but there’s something new there. A vulnerability that’s different from before. Not fear, but openness and truth.
“I’ve spent so long protecting myself,” she whispers. “Building walls. Running away when things got too real.”
I brush another tear from her cheek, my heart expanding with each word she shares. “And now?”
“Now I’m terrified,” she admits, her voice shaky. “But not of you. I’m scared of how much I want this. How much I want…” She swallows hard. “How much I want you but feel like I don’t deserve you. You could do so much better than?—”
“No.” I shake my head, stopping her with a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it, Sutton. I know what you’re thinking and it’s just not true. You deserve everything you want and if what you want is me, then you have me. Because I want you too. I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you. From the moment you walked away from me in the bar refusing to tell me your name. I was completely fucked from that moment on.”
Sutton stares at me, her lips parting slightly as she processes my words. For a moment I’m terrified I’ve said too much, revealed too much of myself too quickly. But then she smiles—a small, hesitant thing that makes my heart stutter.
“Since the bar?” she whispers, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.
“You walked away from me and all I could think was ‘who is this woman who just turned down Shepherd Haynes?’“ I laugh softly at the memory. “You were the first person in a long time who saw me as just…a guy. Not a quarterback, not a celebrity. Just me. You were this mystery I couldn’t solve, and I’ve been trying to figure you out ever since.”
She laughs softly, the sound vibrating against my skin. “I’m not that complicated.”
“You’re the most beautifully complex person I’ve ever met,” I tell her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I want to learn every part of you.”
