Chapter Forty-Two
Grace
AJ’s lips, tongue, and teeth explore from the shell of my ear, down my neck, and across the hollow of my throat. My body is on fire. Tiny sparks race along my spine. Every part of me aches for him—my heart most of all.
We’re close enough for the heat of him to warm my skin, but with his hands braced on the headboard, he’s barely touching me.
“Please,” I whisper. “I need more.”
I wrap my fingers around his wrist and guide his hand to my breast.
“Grace.” Need roughens his voice, the word ragged in the quiet of the room. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I need…you, Aaron.”
He stiffens, his gaze snapping to mine. Wonder, grief, and hope flicker across his face in a heartbeat.
The first time I called him Aaron, he almost came undone. I’m not sure how I even knew what AJ stood for. But I know what it means to him.
Everything.
“I never told you… I couldn’t. It had to be…yours.” Tears deepen the blue of his eyes. He blinks them away, then dips his head to press a light kiss to my nipple.
My core trembles, and I arch my back, silently begging him for more.
AJ parts his lips, and—oh, God—scores his teeth over the tight nub. I moan, the sensation shooting all the way to my clit.
“More?” he asks, whisper-soft against my breast.
He’s so careful with me. Gentle. Tender. In his arms, nothing can hurt me. Not even my own fears.
I hook my leg around his, tugging him closer. “More.”
Easing me onto my back, AJ stares down at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. In this moment, I’m not broken. Not scared. Not alone.
His hard length presses to my hip. The scent of him—of his need—stirs a faint memory.
I blink, and it’s not early afternoon anymore. It’s morning. The summer sun streams through the window. AJ—younger than he is now, without the lingering grief in his gaze—struggles to kick off his boots, his hands tangled in my hair.
A kiss to the underside of my breast brings me back to the here and now. He moves lower, skimming the top of my panties with his lips. “God, Grace. You smell like heaven.”
His hand slides up my thigh, over the deepest of the scars on my legs.
My wrists ache. Pain tugs at my shoulders, so sharp and fast, all the air leaves my lungs.
AJ notices. He always notices.
“Hey.” His hand stills on my hip and he sits up. “Talk to me, darlin’.”
I can’t answer right away. Static hisses inside my head, so loud I can feel it all the way down to my toes. My throat tightens. Memories press against the edges of my mind, dark shadows I can’t see—can’t name.
AJ’s lips are moving, but I can’t hear his voice. A furrow deepens between his brows. I focus on his eyes. On the pure, never-ending love reflected there. The static starts to fade.
“Grace. We don’t have to do this. Not now. Not ever.”
The safety he gives me—the resolute promise that if I said no, he’d live the rest of his life without sex just so I’d feel safe—sends my fears retreating to the deep, dark place they hide until my nightmares set them free.
“AJ…I d-don’t remember… If they… What if they…hurt me…like that?”
He touches his forehead to mine, his breath unsteady. “Then I’ll kill them. Slowly.”
His words shouldn’t be romantic. They shouldn’t fill me with relief. But they do.
A chill settles over my skin. I want this. I want him. But most of all, I want to be me again.
“I’m scared.”
“I know.” He pulls the duvet over us, and settles me against his chest. “You’re allowed to be scared, Grace. You’re allowed to feel whatever you need to feel, whenever you need to feel it. There ain’t no timeline for healing. Even bones take a while to mend. Scared don’t mean broken.”
Tears blur my vision. “How do you always know what to say?”
He chuckles and rubs slow circles over my lower back.
“Darlin’, I never know what to say.” His thumb traces the edge of my jaw.
Slow and steady. “Except this. I love you, Grace. There ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you.
If you need to stop—any time, for any reason—we stop.
You have all the control, Grace. All of it. ”
My shoulders loosen at the absolute conviction in his voice. That slow, steady tone that makes him such a good Ranger, my protector, and my best friend. The fear doesn’t fade completely, but desire shoves it aside. I want this. I want him.
I hold his gaze, my voice clear, strong, and sure. “Take off my panties.”
A shudder runs through AJ’s body. In his eyes, I see relief, restraint, and fierce tenderness. After a blink, there’s something more.
A vow.
He’ll never hurt me. Never leave me. Never pity me. He’ll just…love me.
I kiss him. And when I truly let him in, it’s not desire that drives me—it’s trust.
Hooking his fingers in the light blue cotton, AJ slides the panties down my hips with a reverence I think—I know—isn’t new. It’s who he is at his very core.
He doesn’t take. He offers. Every touch is a question, and he waits for my body to answer.
A single kiss grazes the top of my mound, just above the glistening dark blond curls. “Okay?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Touch me, Aaron.”
Lower. Another press of his lips. This time, over my clit.
I reach down, cup the back of his neck, and guide his mouth where I’m desperate for it to be.
He looks up, a silent question in his eyes.
I’m not afraid. Not with AJ. My husband. My protector. The man I’m falling in love with all over again.
“Taste me.”
AJ settles between my legs, his hands resting lightly on my inner thighs. The first swipe of his tongue through my folds is like coming home. With the second, I come undone. My whimper turns into a moan as he finds a slow, easy rhythm.
My core tightens. Every muscle strains. My heels scrape at the mattress. I curl my fingers in the sheets, desperate to hold on. I want to savor the pleasure AJ’s giving me.
But even after three years, my husband knows my body. And within minutes, I’m hurtling toward the edge.
“Aaron, please…” I beg. “I need…to come.”
AJ sucks hard on my clit, and I fly so high, I may never come down.
I’m shaking. Not from fear. From something bigger. Something I don’t want to name, but think…maybe…could be hope.
Held in AJ’s arms, his face buried in my hair, I’m safe. I’m loved.
His chest heaves with the overwhelming emotions we both feel, as over and over again, he whispers, “You’re here. You came back to me.”