21. Blade #3
I kiss her inner thighs gently before moving back up her body, pausing to kiss her stomach, her ribs, her breasts. Nora’s eyes are closed, her face relaxed in a way I haven’t seen before.
“Still okay?” I ask softly.
She nods weakly without opening her eyes. “More than okay.”
I settle over her carefully, propping myself on my elbows as I kiss her slowly. Nora kisses me back, slowly at first, then with increasing hunger as she recovers.
I shift my hips slightly, letting my cock press against her entrance.
“Blade,” she whispers, eyes fluttering open. "I want you."
“Anything for you, angel.”
I enter her slowly, giving her body time to adjust to my size. Nora’s breath catches as I sink deeper, her legs wrapping around my hips instinctively.
“You feel so good,” she murmurs, part words part moans against my ear.
I move slowly at first, finding a rhythm that makes her arch against me. Nora meets every thrust, her hips rolling to match mine.
“Harder,” she gasps out.
I comply, increasing my pace slightly while keeping the rhythm steady and deep. Her nails dig into my back as her breathing grows ragged again.
“Look at me,” I command gently.
Her eyes open, hazy with pleasure.
“Stay with me.”
She nods, her gaze locked on mine as I continue to move inside her. The connection between us feels deeper than anything I’ve experienced before, something grounding and real in a world that rarely offers either.
“You’re beautiful like this,” I tell her truthfully. “All relaxed and taking what I give you.”
A flush rises on her cheeks at my words. She turns her face slightly, pressing it against my shoulder for a moment as if hiding from the intensity.
“No hiding,” I murmur, gently turning her face back toward mine. “Let me see you.”
She looks up at me then, eyes vulnerable but trusting. That trust is a privilege I won’t take lightly.
I continue moving inside her, watching as pleasure builds again in her expression.
“You close?” I ask softly.
She nods, her hips beginning to move more desperately now.
“Then come with me, angel.”
I increase my pace slightly, hitting that spot inside her that makes her gasp every time. Nora’s body tightens around me as she nears her release.
“Blade,” she gasps out, her voice breaking. “I’m?—”
Her words dissolve into a cry as pleasure crashes through her again. The sight of her coming undone beneath me, combined with the feeling of her pulsing around my cock, pushes me over the edge. I bury myself deep inside her as my own release overtakes me.
We stay like that for a moment, bodies intertwined, breathing ragged in the quiet room.
Then I carefully withdraw and shift to lie beside her, pulling her against my chest.
“Still okay?” I ask softly, kissing the top of her head.
She nods sleepily. “Better than okay.”
I hold her close as her breathing evens out, feeling a sense of peace I haven’t experienced in years. This—right here—is what I’ve been missing without even knowing it.
“I have to clean up,” she murmurs against my chest.
“I’ll do it,” I say quietly. “Just rest.”
I slip out of bed, returning moments later with a warm washcloth. Nora watches through half-closed eyes as I gently clean between her legs, my touch careful and reverent.
Later, Nora falls asleep with one hand still loosely curled against my chest.
Moonlight spills softly across the bed while the rest of the house stays silent around us. Her breathing evens out gradually sometime after midnight, exhaustion finally pulling her fully under after days of stress and disrupted routines.
I stay awake longer.
Partly because I need to leave soon.
Mostly because leaving feels harder than it should.
Nora shifts slightly in her sleep beside me, pressing closer unconsciously beneath the blankets. The movement settles somewhere uncomfortable beneath my ribs because it feels too natural already.
Eventually though I force myself carefully out of bed without waking her. I pull my clothes back on quietly before pausing beside the mattress one last time.
She looks younger asleep and far less guarded. I brush my fingers lightly across her hair once before stepping into the hallway.
Paxton’s door sits cracked open down the hall beside the faint glow of dinosaur nightlights. I step inside quietly enough not to disturb him.
The teal room looks completely different from when Nora first arrived. Fresh paint. New shelves. Dinosaur blankets twisted halfway off the bed, Paxton sleeps sprawled diagonally across the mattress like he fought invisible enemies in his dreams.
One foot sticks completely outside the blanket. I shake my head slightly before pulling the comforter back up over him carefully, making sure it settles around his shoulders without waking him.
He barely stirs. He just shifts closer into the pillow with a soft sleepy sound before settling again, curls half covering his face beneath the dim hallway light.
Something in my chest eases unexpectedly as I stand there looking at him. For one quiet second it feels painfully easy to picture this becoming permanent somehow, mornings and bedtime routines and small moments exactly like this folding naturally into the rest of my life.
Eventually I turn off the hallway light and head downstairs. Outside the air feels colder now, the clubhouse, Los Angeles, and the violence waiting ahead are all still there when I climb into the SUV.
But for the first time in years, driving back toward all of it doesn’t feel quite as heavy as it used to.