My voice feels too large for my tight throat. “Always.”
I study him for a long beat. His jaw is tight, his posture too still. He’s holding something back. He hasn’t touch me — not once — since he carried me upstairs.
“You’re afraid of me.” I say softly.
His head snaps up. “Never.” He growls.
I tilt my head, studying him. “Then why won’t you come closer?”
I can see his throat working. “Because I don’t want to be another man who takes, when you haven’t offered.”
My breath catches in my lungs.
“Do you think I’m truly broken now? That I need… I don’t even know.”
“I think you need whateveryouneed,” he says gently. “Space, rage. Do you want me to conjure someone you can pound the piss out of? Step out and leave you alone? Whisk you away to somewhere else?”
He’d really do any of it, I realize. He’d call Annemarie and let me kick him out of his own apartment — and how fucking long has that been a thing?
Even knowing what I did, somehow, to Brett. Even knowing that I don’t know what I’m capable of.
I rise to my feet, crossing the room on legs that don’t feel steady. I stop, just in front of him. So close I can smell the rain in his hair.
In the soft glow of the bedroom, it’s easy to focus and forget anything but him. The weight of unspoken words and pent-up emotions hang in the air, creating a charged atmosphere that is both tender and electric. It feels like we are on the precipice of something, but I’m not sure what.
I’m not sure I care anymore.
I rise to my feet, crossing the room on legs that don’t feel steady. I stop, just in front of him. So close I can smell the rain in his hair. My fingers trace lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the heat of him through the thin fabric of his tee, keeping my touch gentle. I know I’m not the only one that tonight is going to haunt.
He captures my hand with his own, bringing it to his lips and kissing my fingertips tenderly. “I’m always going to be here. Always.”
My heart swells in my chest until I feel like it’s about to burst. I lean in to kiss him, yielding against his mouth. He breaks away to whisk away my sleep shirt, his own following. Skin to skin. No rush, no demand. Not yet. Just warmth. He leans in, deepening the kiss, spinning it out in a dance of tongues and teeth, a promise of more to come. His hands find the small of my back, pulling me close, our bodies aligning perfectly.
Like they always have.
I can feel the emotions battering inside him, a reflection of my own. I need to remember that.
“Tell me what you want.” I whisper.
I just want to find peace. I want to bring him peace. I want to quiet that roaring of emotions I feel inside him, the way he can for me.
“Tell me what you need.” I allow my hands to wonder, exploring the hard planes of his chest, his abs.
His breath hitches, his voice a low growl. “I want you, Casie. All of you. I need to feel you, taste you. Lose myself in you.”
I shiver, my body responding to his words. I slip my fingers into the loops on his pants, walking backwards as I guide him back to the bed. His lips trace my collarbone. “Show me,” I whisper, my eyes locked with his. “Show me how much you want me. Make me feel alive.”
“I dreamed about you. Every night,” he murmurs. “But the real thing…Gods.”
His hands grip my hips, fingers digging into my skin. My naked skin.
“What?”
He grins, guiding me down, his cock sliding against where the heat is pooling in my body, teasing my entrance. I glance down and try not to goggle. He has vanished what was left of our clothes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans. “So perfect.”
He eases me back, kissing down my ribs, my hips bones. Slow and bright as starlight, slowly making his way back to my mouth.
