Chapter 20 #2
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice rough. “I can’t always control it. I promise there’s zero expectation.” He brings a warm hand to my cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over my skin. “I would never hurt you, Sutton. Not in a million years.”
The deep sincerity in his eyes makes my chest ache, almost as if he wonders if I don’t believe him. “Don’t apologize,” I whisper, my gaze returning to his face. “You make me feel safe, Shepherd. Safer than I’ve ever felt.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s get you warm and dry.”
Shepherd reaches past me to turn off the water, and the sudden quiet feels intimate in its own way.
He steps out first, grabbing a large, fluffy towel and wrapping it around me before taking one for himself.
His hands rub gently at my shoulders through the towel, warming me further, and he pats my skin dry with the softest touch.
I catch my reflection in the steamy mirror.
My face is flushed, eyes bright, hair slicked back.
I look…different. Not quite myself, but maybe closer to who I could be.
When he’s finished, he disappears briefly, changing into a pair of gym shorts, and then returns with a clean T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for me.
“They’ll be huge on you,” he says apologetically, “but they’re dry.”
I slip into his clothes, the fabric swimming around my smaller frame. The shirt hangs to mid-thigh, the pants requiring several roll-ups at the waist and ankles. But they smell like him and that makes me feel safe.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
He leads me to his bedroom, a space that somehow feels exactly like him surrounded in warm wood tones and simple furnishings. Nothing flashy or excessive. The bed is enormous, with a solid headboard that looks handmade.
“Did you make this?” I ask, running my fingers along the smooth grain.
“Yeah,” he says, a hint of shyness in his voice.
I picture his strong hands carefully shaping this piece, and something warm unfurls in my chest. He pulls back the covers, gesturing for me to climb in, but I hesitate, just for a moment.
This is what I want.
You’ve wanted this for a long time.
He’s not going to hurt me.
I trust him.
“I can sleep in the guest room,” he offers immediately, reading my hesitation. “Or the couch. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
“No,” I say, surprising myself with how quickly the word comes.
I want to be with you.
“Stay. Please.”
He nods, climbing in on the other side of the bed, careful to leave space between us. The mattress dips slightly as he settles, and I feel the warmth radiating from his body next to mine. For a moment, we lie there in silence, the only sound is our breathing gradually synchronizing in the darkness.
“Is this…are you okay?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” I assure him staring up at the ceiling. The rain continues to patter against the windows, creating a soothing rhythm that makes my eyelids heavy. I should be exhausted after everything that’s happened tonight, but there’s a strange energy humming through me, keeping sleep at bay.
“Warm enough?” he asks.
I turn my head to look at him, finding his eyes already on me, soft and concerned in the dim light filtering through the curtains.
“Mhmm.”
I hold his gaze, the space between us feeling both extremely vast and impossibly small.
I want him to close this gap until our bodies are touching but I don’t know how to ask him.
How do I even deserve anything he’s done for me after I stormed out on him less than an hour ago? None of this is fair to him.
“What are you overthinking about?” His words drift between us like a feather in the air.
“Everything,” I admit, my voice barely audible above the rain. “I’m overthinking everything.”
He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. “Like what?”
“Like how I ran away from you earlier,” I say, swallowing hard.
“Like how you still brought me in from the rain and took care of me anyway.” I shake my head against the pillow.
“Like how I’ve been short with you since the day we met, always guarded when you’ve been anything but, and I’m just…
” I sigh. “I don’t see how I deserve anything you’ve given me, but you’ve been so kind to me, over and over again. ”
His expression softens. “That’s what people do when they care about someone, Sutton.
” He shifts a little closer, the mattress dipping under his weight.
“And there’s nothing unfair about needing space when you’re triggered.
You don’t owe me any explanations. Not about your past, not about your triggers. Not about anything.”
My chest tightens with an emotion I can’t name, and I try to swallow back my nerves and negative thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Can you…” I start, then hesitate, feeling suddenly shy. “Would you hold me?”
I feel his body relax beside me. “There’s nothing I want to do more. Of course, I’ll hold you. Come here,” he murmurs, opening his arms. “Turn around.”
I do as he says and face away from him. He positions himself behind me, one arm under my neck, and his other hand pulling me against him, my back to his chest. My T-shirt being too large, though, his hand slips under the fabric and touches my skin and he freezes. “Shit, I’m sorry. I—”
“No.” I cover his hand with mine as it rests on the bare skin of my stomach. “It’s okay,” I assure him. “I like it there.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod against his arm. “I’m safe with you, Shepherd.”
He exhales against my neck, his breath warm and gentle as his fingers spread across my torso. His hand is large enough to span most of my midsection, and the weight of it grounds me in a way I didn’t expect.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispers, his lips close to my ear but not quite touching.
He leans over me just enough to place a tender kiss near my temple and then snuggles into me, his body curled protectively around mine, creating a fortress where, for the first time in years, I feel truly sheltered, protected, and seen.
For a while, we just lie there, breathing together, listening to the rain.
His thumb traces slow circles on my stomach, each gentle movement sending tiny ripples of warmth through me.
It’s not sexual—though my body responds to his touch in ways I can’t control—but comforting in a way I’ve never experienced before.
The feeling that washes over me is so profound, it’s almost overwhelming.
I’m safe here.
In Shepherd’s arms.
And I want to be here.
And that thought ignites something deep within me.
With each breath, each gentle circle his thumb traces on my skin, a yearning builds.
Not just desire, but a desperate need to reclaim something that was taken from me.
To feel touch that heals rather than hurts.
To replace memories of rough hands and cruel words with something tender and genuine.
I shift slightly, pressing against him. His breath catches, just barely, but I feel his body stiffen behind me.
“Shepherd,” I murmur into the darkness, my voice trembling slightly.
“Hmm?” His response vibrates through his chest to my back.
I take his hand and slowly guide it higher beneath the oversized T-shirt, my heart hammering so loudly I’m certain he can hear it. His palm stills just below my breast, not moving farther.
“Sutton?” There’s a question in his voice, concern mixed with something deeper.
“Will you touch me?” I whisper, the words catching in my throat as the storm outside swallows the sound. “Please.”
His body tenses behind me, his breathing changing rhythm as his heartrate rises and his cock stiffens between us. “Are you sure?”
I nod and then turn my head to look at him. “I…I need this. With you. I want this.” I swallow. “If it’s too much, I underst—”
“It’s not,” he breathes behind me, his lips brushing against my ear. “I want to give you what you need. I’d do anything for you.”
“I want to know what it feels like to be touched by someone who actually cares about me. I…I need to know what that feels like. Please.”
He’s silent as he considers my words and then clears his throat softly. “You’ll tell me if you need me to stop? If it’s too much?”
“I promise.”
He kisses my temple again and says, “Then just relax and let me take care of you.”
His hand moves with excruciating slowness up my ribcage, his fingers feathering across my skin until his palm cups my breast, warm and gentle. I gasp at the contact, arching into his touch. His thumb brushes over my nipple, and the sensation shoots straight through me like lightning.
Oh, my God!
“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint.
“Yes,” I breathe, pressing back against him. “More than okay.”
His touch is reverent, exploring with a gentleness that makes my eyes sting with unexpected tears.
When his lips find the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, I shudder against him, my body responding in ways I’d forgotten it could.
His fingers tease my nipple again, and I can’t suppress a soft moan.
Behind me, his hips shift involuntarily, his erection pressing against my lower back.
“You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin. It’s not quite a kiss, just a whisper of contact, warm against my skin. “So soft.” His teeth graze my neck, with a pressure that makes me gasp. My back arches instinctively, pressing my breast more firmly into his palm.
“You’re so responsive,” he whispers, his voice like gravel. “So stunning.”
The words don’t trigger me this time. Not when they’re wrapped in such tenderness, spoken against my skin like a secret between us. His hand slides from my breast down the plane of my stomach, fingers splaying wide as if he wants to touch as much of me as possible.
“Can I touch you here?” he asks, his fingers hovering at the waistband of my borrowed sweatpants.
“Yes,” I breathe, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.
He eases his hand beneath the fabric, and I slowly part my legs, giving him better access. His touch is torturously gentle as he explores lower and the moment his fingers finally brush against my core, already slick with arousal, I nearly come undone at the first contact.
“Oh, God, Shepherd!”
“Jesus,” he groans against my neck. “You’re so wet.”
I should be embarrassed by how ready I am for him, but there’s no room for shame in the cocoon of safety he’s created around us.
His fingers glide through my folds as his other hand surrounds my breast, his fingers lightly tugging at my nipple.
The sensation is overwhelming and I can’t hold back my pleasured moan.
“Oooh God, Shepherd. Just like that.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he says behind me.
“You,” I tell him, gasping again at his touch. “It’s never felt like this for me before.” I reach behind me to grip his thigh, needing something to anchor me as pleasure builds low in my belly.
“Tell me how it feels,” he commands softly.
He finds my clit, circling in a way that drives me wild. My hips rock against his hand, seeking more. Each stroke sending sparks shooting through my body, building a pressure I’ve longed for.
“It feels like…” I struggle to find words as his touch moves with perfect pressure, circling where I need him most. “Like I’m floating but anchored at the same time. Like I’m melting from the inside out.”
He’s patient but purposeful, exploring what makes me gasp and sigh. When he circles my clit with just the right pressure, I clench around nothing, desperate for more.
“Oh, God, please,” I breathe, not entirely sure what I’m asking for.
“What do you need?” His voice is a warm rumble against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Tell me what you need, Sutton.”
“I need…” My words falter as he slides his fingers lower, teasing at my entrance. “I need to feel you inside me.”
He groans, his hips pressing forward instinctively. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I gasp as he slowly slides one finger inside me, then another, stretching me gently. “Oh God, yes.”
His palm presses against my clit as he curl inside me, finding a spot that makes me see stars. I rock against his hand, chasing the pleasure building within me.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice deep with desire. “Fuck, Sutton, you feel incredible in my hands. Under my fingers,” he groans.
The sensation is overwhelming; his hand on my breast, his fingers between my legs, his body solid and warm behind me. Like he’s pleasuring me and protecting me at the same time.
“It’s okay to let go. I’ve got you.”
“Shepherd,” I pant, my voice breaking. “I’m—”
“I know,” he whispers, increasing his rhythm. “I’m right here and I’ve got you.”
The pressure builds, coiling tighter and tighter until I can barely breathe.
My body trembles on the edge of something monumental.
His fingers move faster, more insistent, and suddenly I’m falling, breaking apart in his arms with a cry that tears from my throat.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me as he holds me through it, his touch gentle but unrelenting.
“That’s it,” he murmurs as I shudder through the aftershocks, my body still pulsing around his fingers.
My entire body feels like it’s floating, every nerve ending alive with sensation. I’m boneless in his arms and trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps as my body slowly descends from the high.
“That was…” I can’t find the words, my mind still hazy with ecstasy.
“Stunning,” he says, filling in the blank for me. “You’re stunning when you come, Sutton.”
His rigid cock presses against my back, insistent and hot even through the fabric of his shorts. I turn in his arms to face him, our noses almost touching in the darkness. His eyes are heavy-lidded with desire, his breathing uneven.
“What about you?” I whisper, my hand sliding down his chest.
He catches my wrist gently and shakes his head. “This wasn’t about me. I promised you.”
“I know,” I whisper, my hand resting at the waistband of his shorts, my fingers dragging across his abdomen. “But I want to…if you’ll let me.
Something shifts in his expression—relief, maybe, or surrender. He nods once, and that’s all the permission I need.