Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ELIZABETH
The piano music of the alarm on my phone starts playing, waking me from a deep sleep. My eyes slowly blink open, and I become aware of the warm, hard body I’m snuggled against.
I take a minute to remember what happened last night.
The way he kissed me.
The way he touched me.
The way I shattered and soared, a feeling like none I’d ever experienced before.
Ryder’s bicep flexes under my head as he begins to stir, his face snuggled in the crook of my shoulder.
His mouth curves into a smile against my skin. “Good morning,” he sleepily mumbles and kisses my neck.
My body goes from light tingle to lit firecracker in an instant.
“If you’re taking me to my MRI, we need to get up and get dressed. And breakfast,” I add, suddenly very hungry.
“Got it,” he says and rolls over on top of me, his morning erection pressing deliciously between my outstretched thighs. He places three delicate kisses on my face—nose, cheek, lips—before lifting off me. “Shower time,” he says, offering me a hand up.
“Together?” I ask too excitedly.
A slew of filthy fantasies take shape, but Ryder squashes them when he laughs.
“I can see what you’re thinking, and as much as I would love to fulfill every dirty thought swirling around that gorgeous brain of yours, we don’t have time.”
Knowing he’s right still doesn’t stop me from pouting.
He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. “Soon. I promise,” he says, kissing me.
“I’m absolutely holding you to that promise.”
When we get to my bedroom, we strip out of our clothes, and my eyes land on his chest and the tattoo inked right above his heart. How did I not see it last night?
“May I?” I ask, and he nods.
His tattoo is of a princess crown with Elizabeth scripted under it. I touch the outline of the letters that spell out my name, then the four measures of musical notes that sit at the base of the crown. My brain hums the tune, and realization hits me. “This is the song you played for me in the music room.”
The song he said I wrote just for him.
A rush of emotion steamrolls its way into my heart and settles, refusing to leave. “When did you get this?”
The colors are vibrant, and the lines aren’t faded, so it must be new.
“Do you mind if I keep that story for another time?”
His words are filled with such deep melancholy, I decide to let it be.
“Of course.”
Ryder turns on the shower and lifts me in his arms. I didn’t get to feel this last night. Full skin on skin with nothing between us. It feels amazing.
Stepping into the shower, we quickly soap each other up. Ryder’s body is all ripped muscle and tanned skin, and he has those sexy cut indentations along his Adonis belt that arrow down to his hard cock.
My desire takes over, and I don’t realize that I’m lowering to my knees in front of him until he grips under my arms and lifts me back up.
With a groan of regret, he touches his forehead to mine. “I want you so fucking badly. But I also want to do this right. We don’t have time, and you’re too important to rush things.”
“But—”
He shuts up my protestations with a kiss.
Reaching for the bottle of shampoo from the inset shelf, he pours some in his hands and lathers it into my hair, massaging his fingers into my scalp. Gently tipping my head under the spray, Ryder runs his hand down the length of my hair, rinsing the suds out before finger-combing conditioner through the strands. His gentleness is seductive, and I arch my spine, seeking more of his touch.
“ Ryder, ” I whimper when his mouth closes around a nipple. Arousal pools between my legs. “I thought we didn’t have time.”
His chest vibrates when he chuckles. “There’s always time for this.” He spins me around and curls a hand under my thigh, lifting my leg. “Put your foot on the shower bench.”
The position spreads me wide, and I moan when he slips a finger inside me. He uses the heel of his palm to grind my clit as his finger strokes my G-spot. Dear god, the way he knows how to play my body.
“You feel so good,” he whispers in my ear, and my damn knees go weak.
Ryder touches me like I’m precious. Desirable. He doesn’t see the scars that define me. He just sees me .
Cupping my breast, he teases my nipple between his fingers, the pinch of pain exactly what I need to tip me over the edge. Turning my head, I seek his mouth and kiss him as I fly apart.
“Beautiful,” he says and pushes me back against the shower wall on shaky legs that refuse to hold me upright.
Bracing my waist, he kneels at my feet, and I can’t stop the tears from falling when he makes love to my butterfly tattoos with his mouth.
Since I came out of my coma, nothing has made sense. Nothing has seemed real. My mind and my body were empty husks of a person I couldn’t remember. Every day was a struggle filled with the pain of recovery and fear of the unknown.
I thread my fingers through his wet hair and watch as Ryder’s gentle kisses heal those broken parts of me. With him, all the bad stuff disappears. The walls I’d built to protect myself crumble, and for the first time in a long time, I feel worthy. Worthy of love, worthy of happiness, worthy of a future. Like I finally belong in my own skin.
Every touch he gifts me with, every word he says to me, makes me feel cherished in a way that leaves my soul breathless. I am enough. Me, not the old Elizabeth. And that…that is the most beautiful gift he could have ever given me.