Chapter 21 #2
“Use me,” I whisper, the words escaping before I can think better of them. “Take what you want…what you need, Sutton. I’m yours. All yours.”
Her eyes widen at my words, something vulnerable flickering across her face before her expression shifts.
She plants her palms flat against my chest and rocks her hips in a way that makes me see stars.
I’m fighting for control, desperate to make this last, but she’s so tight around me, so perfect, I might lose my mind.
“Fuck, yes,” I groan, fighting to keep my hips still, letting her control everything. “You feel amazing like this.”
“Shepherd,” she whimpers, her head falling back and her body arching as she rides me. She’s so fucking beautiful the way she takes my cock and God help me, I’m losing the battle with every passing second.
“Look at me,” I whisper, needing to see her eyes, to be sure she’s still with me. Still okay.
She does, her gaze locking with mine, and what I see there makes my chest swell.
Desire, yes, but also complete trust. Trust I’d never betray.
Her rhythm changes, becoming more urgent, more demanding as she chases her pleasure.
The sight of her lost in sensation above me is almost more than I can bear.
I slide my hand between us, my thumb finding her clit, and she gasps, her movements faltering for just a second before picking up again with renewed intensity.
“Oh God,” she moans, her inner muscles clenching around me. “Shepherd…”
“That’s it,” I encourage, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears. “Ride me, baby. Take it all. I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Her hips move faster, grinding down against me as my thumb works tight circles over her sensitive flesh. I can feel her getting closer—her breathing changing, her thighs trembling against mine, her walls fluttering around my cock in a way that’s driving me insane.
“Oh, God, Shepherd! I’m close,” she cries, her voice breaking on the words.
“It’s okay to let go,” I tell her, increasing the pressure of my thumb. “I’m right here with you.”
Sutton’s entire body tenses, her fingernails digging into my chest as she comes undone.
Her inner muscles clamp down around me in rhythmic pulses that nearly push me over the edge.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than her face in this moment, completely abandoned to pleasure, vulnerable and trusting.
Her lips part on a silent cry, her eyes locked with mine as wave after wave crashes through her.
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 voice rough 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.”
Her eyes widen at my words, something vulnerable flickering across her face. I can feel her heart racing where our chests press together and then she sighs, her eyes closing as she inhales another deep breath and releases it slowly.
“I should probably…” She gestures vaguely downward, reminding me we’re still connected.
“Right.” I ease out of her carefully, both of us wincing at the loss of contact.
“I’ll be right back.” I head to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, catching sight of myself in the mirror.
I barely recognize the man in the reflection—my eyes bright, my expression open in a way it hasn’t been in years. Maybe ever.
When I return to the bedroom, I’m struck by the sight of Sutton sitting up against the headboard, my shirt pulled back on, her knees drawn to her chest. She looks small and vulnerable, and something protective surges through me. I grab a clean towel from the bathroom and bring it to her.
“Here,” I say softly. “If you want to clean up.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs, taking it from me with a small smile.
She excuses herself to the restroom while I get us both a glass of water and turn out the lights in the living room and kitchen.
When she’s back in my bed, I climb in beside her, leaving a respectable distance between us, unsure if she needs space after what just happened and all we’ve talked about.
The storm has passed but the rain continues to drum against the windows, creating a calming sound around us.
“Are you okay?” I ask, searching her face. “Really okay?”
She nods slowly. “Better than okay, actually.” Her hand finds mine on the mattress between us, her fingers threading through mine. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For…” She hesitates, looking down at our joined hands. “For being gentle. For making me feel safe. For seeing me. Even the parts I try to hide.”
Something in my chest cracks open at her words.
For seeing me.
Such a simple phrase, but I know exactly what she means.
In a world where people look at me and see a jersey number, statistics, or a ticket to social media fame, Sutton sees beyond all that.
And I see her too. Not as the defensive bartender or the woman with walls, but as someone brave and beautiful who’s fighting her way back to herself.
“I do see you, Sutton. And everything I see, I…” I trail off, not wanting to overwhelm her with words she might not be ready to hear. “I admire. I respect. I want.”
She slides closer to me, and I lift my arm so she can nestle against my chest. Her hair tickles my chin as she settles in, her breathing starting to even out.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of my shampoo in her hair.
There’s something deeply intimate about that.
Her wearing my clothes, using my soap, sleeping in my bed. Like she belongs here.
“I’m not sure how good at this I’ll be, Shepherd. What if I can’t be everything you need me to be?”
“Hey.” I tip her chin with my finger so she can see my face.
“I don’t need you to be anyone but who you are.
I’m head over heels for the girl who likes toothpaste flavored ice cream and collects broken teacups.
” I shake my head. “The girl who challenges my every thought and argues with herself in the pouring down rain is the girl who makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time.
I want you, Sutton. Nobody else. Just you. Okay?”
Her eyes are getting heavy. I can’t blame her one bit after the night of emotional turmoil she’s been through. But she nods and gives me the faintest of smiles as she tucks herself against my chest a little more and whispers, “Okay, Shepherd.”