Chapter 37 #2
He focused on that small, swollen bundle of nerves, his tongue circling, flicking, then pressing firmly.
Tension built beneath his hands, her breathing becoming ragged, her hands twisting in the sheets.
He was so lost in the act of giving her this pleasure, so focused on her responses, that the terror of using her, of detaching, seemed a distant memory.
With her, there was only this. Only her.
He felt her tighten, a tremor starting deep within her, and he doubled his efforts, sucking her clit gently into his mouth as his tongue worked against her.
Her back bowed, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she shattered.
Her eyes flew open, wide and dazed, her chest heaving as she panted for air.
Her hands flew to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her as the waves of her orgasm washed over her.
He didn't move, just stayed with her, his mouth still pressed against her, letting her ride it out, his own heart pounding with a fierce, protective tenderness. She kept asking for pieces of him, and he was helpless to do anything but give them all.
He lifted his head, moving up her body slowly, settling his weight beside her, propped on an elbow to look down at her face. She was beautiful in the aftermath, her features soft, her eyes hazy with satisfaction and trust. So real. It was that reality that both called to him and terrified him.
He wanted her. The want was a physical ache, a primal demand that had him hard and ready, his body screaming to sink into the warmth she was offering.
He wanted to feel her around him, to lose himself in that ultimate connection, to claim and be claimed.
But the thought of moving forward, of positioning himself between those open, trusting legs, brought a cold wave of resistance that washed over the fire of his desire.
This was the precipice. The moment where it could all go wrong.
Where the profound act of giving he just performed could curdle into the selfish act of taking.
He was terrified of it. He knew the beast inside him, the part that knew how to use a body for its own release, how to detach and participate in flesh only, to walk away unscathed while leaving a part of himself behind. He’d done it a thousand times.
But with her, there was no armor. There was only this raw, exposed nerve.
To take from her now, to use this open, trusting, real woman for his own gratification, felt like the ultimate sacrilege.
It would be a violation, not of her body, but of the sacred space she had just allowed him to enter.
It would cheapen everything. It would prove he was the user he feared he was.
He lay there, his body a taut wire of conflicting desires, the heat of his skin warring with the ice in his veins. He could feel her gaze on him, and he waited for the question, the gentle probe, the soft reassurance that would only make him feel more like a fraud.
Instead, she shifted beside him, her movements slow and deliberate.
She didn't pull away, but she didn't press closer either.
She propped herself up on her elbow, her hair a dark curtain around her face, and simply looked at him.
Her expression wasn't one of concern or pity, but of profound, searching empathy.
"I can feel you fighting," she said, her voice a low, steady murmur that didn't ask for an explanation. "You're scared you're going to take from me. That you'll use me."
His breath hitched. She saw it. She saw the ugly truth of the beast inside him, and she wasn't running.
She reached out, not to touch his face or his sex, but to lay her hand flat and firm over his heart, feeling its frantic, trapped beat against her palm.
"But you're not asking the right question, Kelly.
You're so focused on whether you can take, you're not asking if I want to give.
You think you're the only one in this bed with a monster inside?
You're not. Mine is the fear that I'll give everything I have to a man, and he'll take it without ever seeing the cost."
Her thumb stroked gently over his sternum.
"So let's make a new rule. We don't take.
We don't give. We share. This isn't you taking my body, and it's not me healing your soul.
It's us, standing in the fire together. If you're going to burn, Kelly, you're not burning alone. You're taking me with you."
He lay there rigidly, but the fight wasn't just in him anymore. It was for them. “I can’t seem to stop fighting,” he admitted, his voice rough. “It’s all I know how to do. To keep everything locked down.”
“Why?” she whispered, her hand still resting over his heart, feeling its frantic rhythm.
He squeezed his eyes closed, her touch the only thing anchoring him.
“Because it feels dangerous to care, to allow someone in. Just when I thought I was stable, had everything under control, I get blindsided by her omissions and lies.” He took a ragged breath, forcing the words out.
“Finding out Derrick was my father tore me down. It crushed me to think that any part of my DNA came from him. He was a bastard, abusive, a drunk, with no idea of what it meant to be a fucking man.”
Her silence was full. It was a space she was holding just for him, letting him fill it with his truth.
He focused on the steady weight of her hand on his arm.
“My father…Edward Gatlin…was the best man I’ve ever known.
My team…every one of them rival him. I might only have had him for ten years, but he made an impact on me that I will never forget. ”
Her hand caressed his skin from his shoulder to his wrist, sliding over and squeezing his rounded biceps.
It felt so good. He focused on it. “That night…I went someplace really dark, Blair.” He closed his eyes, and before he knew what was happening, she was slipping her arms around him and pulling him down against her, her body a warm, solid promise that she wasn't going anywhere.
“How dark?” she murmured into his hair.
His breath hitched, and he trembled in her arms. “I told you about the bar, but there was a man…there’s always one who thinks I’m a target because when you look like I do, there’s jealousy and envy.
I’ve dealt with it my whole life. I wasn't myself. I was this guy who lost something foundational in the span of twenty minutes. One minute I thought I knew who I was, but in the next, it got ripped away. I was reeling, lost, and felt so alone, I just wanted to fuck someone over. I didn’t go to that bar for sex.
I went for a fight. I didn’t know at the time, but I wanted conflict and aggression.
He reminded me of Derrick, and I wanted to…
” He choked on the word. “Eradicate him from me. Purge him. If Boomer hadn’t found me when he did. I might be charged for murder.”
He expected her to pull away, to flinch from the violence in his words.
Instead, her arms tightened around him. Her words slammed into him, spoken softly, with a conviction that felt like a physical blow.
“No, you would have stopped. You’re not Derrick, Kelly.
You could never be him. Not this man who has been trying with everything he has to keep me safe, thinking he’s a threat to me. ”
Her words were a key turning in a lock he hadn't known was there.
The resistance shattered. The fear of taking, of being the beast, dissolved in the face of her absolute, unwavering faith.
She was offering him comfort but also handing him his own redemption.
In that moment, he knew he would do anything to deserve it.
He was achingly hard, a desperate, throbbing need that went far beyond the physical.
He wanted everything she offered him, herself, first and foremost. The tenderness, the care, the kind of listening that didn't just hear his words but acknowledged the man behind them, making him feel seen and cherished in a way that was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
He lowered his head and kissed her, a tender, deep kiss that was nothing like the one before.
He gave himself over to her. The growing addiction of her taste, her scent, the soft sounds she made in the back of her throat, were overtaking him, drowning out the last of the noise in his head.
His hand slid down her body, his fingers finding the slick heat between her legs.
He circled her clit, feeling her hips lift into his touch.
His mouth followed the path his hand had taken, lavishing attention on her breasts again, licking and sucking until her nipples were tight points and she was writhing beneath him.
He focused on her, on giving her this, on the way her breath hitched and her fingers dug into his shoulders.
He worked her with his fingers and his mouth, a relentless, tender assault until she was panting his name, her body tensing for a second time.
Her climax rippled through her, a beautiful, powerful wave, and as she came down, she was pulling at him, her hands tugging him.
"Please," she begged softly, her voice husky with need.
"I want you deep inside me. I want you." He lifted his head, his gaze locked on hers, and the unspoken question passed between them.
She answered it by reaching for him, her hand curling around the back of his neck.
Her voice was low, sure. "Come inside, Kelly. Let's feel this together."
He knelt on the bed, the raw power of her simple invitation washing over him.
This wasn't taking, just accepting what she was so freely offering.
She rose up to meet him, her body a warm welcome, her eyes holding his as she cupped his jaw.
"I've got you," she promised, her voice a balm and a challenge all at once. "Now let me have you completely."