Page 12 of Break Me

“Raven,” he murmured, his voice unsteady. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly who I want.”

That was it. The final crack in his armor.

Strong hands closed around my thighs as he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling the low groan that escaped him despite his best efforts to hold it back.

The trip down the hall was silent. Controlled. Tense enough that I could feel it in every muscle of his body.

He paused outside my bedroom door.

The hesitation lasted only a heartbeat, but I felt it.

The weight of every reason we shouldn't be doing this. Every consequence waiting on the other side. Then he nudged the door open with his shoulder. The moment it clicked shut behind us, something inside him gave way.

My back met the door as he crowded close, looking down at me like he was losing a battle he'd been fighting for far too long.

“This is a bad idea,” he said against my mouth.

The look in his eyes nearly unraveled me. Like he was breaking and holding himself together at the same time.

“But God help me,” he said softly, “I want you too.”

Without letting me go, he crossed the room and lowered me onto the bed—gentle enough to be careful, deliberate enough to tell me he'd run out of reasons to keep fighting this a long time ago. His hands lingered at my waist, like letting go wasn't something he was ready to do.

“Raven,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I don't.”

His eyes darkened like my words undid something inside him. Then he kissed me again. Not rushed or desperate like before. Intentional, like he needed to savor the moment he’d sworn he would never let himself have.

His hands slid up my sides, warm and steady, learning my body inch by inch. He lifted my hoodie over my head, dropping it to the floor behind him. The cool air hit my bare skin, only to be replaced by the heat of his body a second later.

“Have you ever⁠—”

The question died between us.

I shook my head.

“No?” he asked quietly.

“No.” My voice barely rose above a whisper. “I've dated. A few times. But it never got that far.”

His expression tightened. “Because you weren't ready?”

I swallowed. “Because they weren't you.”

“Raven.” My name came out like a warning. Or a plea. “You don't understand what you're giving me right now.”

I cupped his cheek. “Yes, I do.”

He caught my wrist gently, holding my hand against his skin. “Sweetheart, if this is your first time, it should be with someone who⁠—”

“It is with someone,” I said softly when he tried to protest. “You.”

His breath left him in a slow, shaky exhale. For a long moment, he didn't move. Didn't speak. He just looked at me.

“I know this might hurt, and God knows if I could take that from you, I would,” he said quietly, his fingers grazing my cheek.