Chapter 20 #2
Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed quickly by frustration. “Shit. No. I didn’t exactly plan for this.”
“Me neither.” I bit my lip. “And I assume you’ve... I mean, since we...”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“Been with other people,” I finished quietly. “Since the hotel.”
Something dark flashed across his face. “No.”
“Oh.” I blinked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice.
“There hasn’t been anyone else, Elena. Not since you.” His thumb traced my bottom lip. “What about you? Besides...” His voice hardened. “Him.”
I looked away, my throat tight. “Just... Peter.”
Chase went very still above me. The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Did he...?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. “He took what he thought he was owed as my husband.”
“I’ll fucking kill him.” The raw fury in Chase’s voice made me flinch. He immediately softened, though I could feel him trembling with rage. “Elena, that’s rape. You know that, right?”
Tears pricked at my eyes.
“I know,” I whispered. I’d always known. But hearing him say it out loud... it shattered something I didn’t know I was still holding together. “I documented everything. Every time. It’s all there with the photos of the bruises, the broken fingers, everything.”
“Jesus Christ.” Chase rolled off me, pulling me into his arms so I was cradled against his chest. His heart hammered under my ear, fury radiating off him in waves. “Why didn’t you tell me? That day at the hotel...”
“Because I needed that day to be mine.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “With you, I felt... safe. In control. Like I was choosing something for myself for the first time in years. I didn’t want him to taint that, too.”
His arms tightened around me, and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. For a long moment, we just lay there on the hard floor, his flannel bunched beneath us, my sweater forgotten somewhere nearby.
“I should have killed him that day I saw the bruises on your ribs.” His voice was rough, dangerous. “Should have gone straight to Detroit and ended him.”
“And then what?” I pushed up on one elbow to look at him. “You’d be in prison. No. I needed to do this my way. On my terms.”
Something shifted in his eyes—pride, maybe, or understanding. His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing away tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” The anger was still there in his voice, but something softer too. “Getting yourself out. Documenting everything. Planning it all.”
I leaned into his touch. “I had help. Tessa...”
“Yeah, but you did the hard part.” His other hand traced patterns on my bare back, gentle where Peter had only ever been harsh. “You survived. You got out. And now you’re here.”
“Now I’m here,” I echoed softly, letting my head rest on his chest again. His heartbeat had steadied, though I could still feel tension in his muscles. “With you.”
For several long moments, we just breathed together, his hands tracing soothing patterns on my back. Then his fingers slid into my hair, gently tilting my face up to his.
“Let me make you feel good, Sweetness.” His voice was soft, reverent. “Let me show you how it should be. No expectations, no pressure. Just you.”
The tenderness in his eyes made my throat tight. This was nothing like Peter’s demanding hands, his cruel words. This was... safe. Wanted.
“Yes,” I whispered, drawing him down for a kiss.
His mouth was gentle against mine, patient, like we had all the time in the world. When his hands slid lower, ghosting over my ribs, my stomach, the waistband of my jeans, every touch felt like worship.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured against my neck as he pulled my jeans off. “Any time.”
Instead of answering, I arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers found just the right spot, rubbing slow circles against my clit.
His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, building a delicious tension low in my belly.
Each stroke sent sparks of pleasure through me.
Chase watched my face intently, gauging my reactions.
When I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, his eyes darkened.
He maintained that same torturous rhythm until I was writhing beneath him.
“Please,” I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for.
“Tell me what you need, Sweetness.” His voice was rough with desire.
“More.” I arched into his touch. “Faster.”
He obliged, increasing the pressure and speed of his fingers. My hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built. His mouth found my neck, trailing hot kisses down to my collarbone.
“That’s it,” he murmured against my skin. “Let go for me, Elena. I’ve got you.”
Safe. I’m safe here. The thought floated through my pleasure-hazed mind as Chase’s talented fingers pushed me closer to the edge. This wasn’t about power or control. This was about trust.
“Chase...” His name came out as a broken moan as the tension coiled tighter.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded softly. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The raw emotion I saw there—desire, yes, but also something deeper, something that made my chest ache—pushed me over the edge.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me as Chase held me close, whispering praise against my skin. When I finally came down, trembling and gasping, he pressed a gentle kiss to my temple.
“You’re incredible,” he breathed. “So fucking beautiful when you come.”
I buried my face in his neck, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his voice. His hands stroked soothingly down my back as my breathing steadied.
A car door slammed somewhere outside, making me jump. Chase’s arms tightened protectively around me.
“Just the neighbors,” he murmured. “You’re safe here, Elena.” He always seemed to be able to read my mind.
His erection dug into my hip, so hard it must have been painful. I’d caused him so much pain already. But this pain? This pain, I could fix.
I untangled myself from him and gently guided him to his back.
He looked up at me, his gaze both molten and questioning.
I trailed my fingers down his chest, watching his muscles tense beneath my touch.
My hand slid lower, tracing the line of dark hair below his navel.
When I reached the button of his jeans, his breath hitched.
“Elena...” His voice was strained. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I popped the button open, dragging his zipper down. “Let me take care of you.”
He lifted his hips to help as I tugged his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free, thick and hard against his stomach. I wrapped my hand around him, savoring his sharp intake of breath.
“Fuck,” he groaned as I started stroking, slow and deliberate.
His skin was like silk over steel beneath my palm. I varied my pace, learning what made his breath catch, what made his hips buck. When I swiped my thumb over his tip, gathering the moisture there, his whole body shuddered.
“Good god, your hand is so soft. How is your hand so soft?”
His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me down for a desperate kiss. I could feel him trembling beneath me, fighting for control.
“Faster,” he gasped against my mouth. “Please, Sweetness.”
I obliged, increasing my speed while maintaining the pressure I’d learned he liked. His breathing grew ragged, muscles tensing under my free hand that explored his chest.
“I’m close,” he warned, his voice rough. His hips jerked up into my grip. “Elena...”
The way he said my name, like a prayer, made something warm bloom in my chest. I twisted my wrist on the upstroke. His eyes flew open, locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“Don’t stop,” he pleaded. “Just like that.”
I stroked him faster, harder, feeling him throb in my palm. His muscles were coiled tight, abs flexing with each thrust into my grip. His hand fisted in my hair, not pulling, just holding. Always so gentle with me, even now.
Chase’s breathing grew more ragged, his hips jerking erratically. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
He came with a broken groan, spilling hot cum over my hand, his whole body shuddering. I stroked him through it, memorizing every expression that crossed his gorgeous face.
When he finally stilled, he pulled me down for a lazy kiss. “So good,” he murmured against my lips.
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed from somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes. The sound made me tense instinctively—Peter’s angry calls still haunted me—but Chase just ignored it, his hands sliding up my bare back.
“Probably Tessa checking on the unpacking progress,” he said between kisses along my jaw. His stubble scraped deliciously against my skin. “Should we tell her we got... distracted?”
His grin combined with the glint in his eyes screamed mischief, but my expression must have bordered on fear because he quickly backtracked.
“I’m kidding, Sweetness.”
I couldn’t help but smile at Chase’s quick backtracking. Even after everything we’d just shared, he was still so careful with me, so attuned to my reactions. His consideration made my chest ache in the best way.
“We should probably get cleaned up,” I murmured, glancing around for something to wipe my hand on. Chase’s discarded flannel caught my eye, but he snatched it away before I could reach for it.
“Not on my favorite shirt.” He grinned, pushing up to his feet with fluid grace. “Stay here. I’ll grab paper towels from the kitchen.”
I watched him pad across the room, completely unselfconscious in his nudity. The dim light from the street lamps outside painted interesting shadows across his muscled back. How is this my life now? How did I get so lucky?
The thought brought an unexpected wave of guilt. Here I was, not even divorced yet, fooling around with Chase on my empty cottage floor while my medical textbooks sat unpacked in their boxes. Was I being reckless? Irresponsible?
Chase returned with paper towels and a warm, damp dishcloth.
“What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain?” he asked softly, noticing my expression. His thumb traced circles on my wrist, sending little jolts up my arm.
I opened my mouth to deflect, to give him some light response about unpacking or breakfast plans. But something in his eyes—that same intensity I’d seen earlier—made me want to be honest.
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“Of me?”
I shrugged.
He fixed me with the most serious expression I’d ever seen cross his handsome face.
“You never need to be afraid of me, Elena. I would die before I hurt you.”
The sincerity in his words sucked the air straight from my lungs.
“I know this thing between us started strange, and you’ve still got some shit to work though, but hear me,” he said, staring directly into my eyes. “I am yours. Do you understand what that means?”
Did I understand? Not really. I’d spent years being controlled by a man I wasn’t sure ever loved me—at least not in any way that didn’t serve him.
Peter’s love had been about possession, performance, control.
Chase’s words didn’t feel like a trap or a demand.
They felt…like a gift. And I didn’t know what to do with that.
“No,” I whispered. “I don’t think I do.”
I hated the smallness of my voice, the aching vulnerability. What was it about this man that made my walls crumble and my emotions pour out?
“Well, then let me lay it out for you, Sweetness,” he said.
Before I could process what was happening, he gathered me into his lap, and the warmth of his body enveloped me. Part of me wanted to pull away, to remember the rules I’d set for myself, but another part craved this connection.
“Here’s the thing about me—when I’m in, I’m all in. No half measures.” He traced gentle patterns on my arm, and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. There was something comforting in the way he held me.
“Baby, I’ve been yours since that first night at Callaghan’s when you called me pretty.” The memory flashed in my mind, and my cheeks heated. How absurd that a simple drunk comment could spark something so fierce and complicated.
“I don’t care about your baggage or your scars. I’ll spend every day showing you what real love feels like. Not that twisted shit he called love.” His jaw clenched, and I understood that his anger at Peter mirrored my own.
What did real love feel like? Could I even allow myself to imagine it?
“I want to wake up to your bedhead and morning grumpiness. Watch you stress-clean when work gets rough. Kiss every inch of you until you believe how fucking perfect you are.”
His words resonated within me, stirring something long buried. I wanted to believe him, but the weight of my experiences with Peter loomed large.
“Chase...” My voice was barely a whisper, a warning and an invitation all at once.
“I know you’re scared. But I’ve got you. And I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to leave.” He brushed his lips across my temple, and warmth spread through me, battling the cold anxiety gripping my chest.
Even if I told him to go, would I really want him to? The thought of him camping out on my porch like a lovesick idiot made me smile despite the chaos swirling in my mind.
He paused, looking deeply into my eyes, and for a moment, I felt seen. “I’ll be anything you need, Elena.”
There it was—the promise of something new, something good. My heart raced at the prospect. But could I trust it? For now, all I could do was hold on and hope and trust the fierce look in his eyes as he doubled down on his oath.
“Anything.”