Chapter 33 #2
Being vulnerable has always made me feel weak in the past, and I’ve hated every second of it. But somehow, here with Grey, it’s not hitting like a weakness. Instead, it heals like a stitch in the fabric of my story, and he’s the one holding the needle.
“Okay.” My chin falls to my knees, and I inhale the calming scent of the bubbles. His footsteps retreat, and the events of the day all crash into me at once. It’s as though he’d been warding off the negative energy, and with some separation, it dares attack.
Focus on breathing, Sav. In for four, hold for four, out for four, repeat.
A pop has me jolting, causing water to slosh around in the tub. “Sorry, sweetheart. Did you fall asleep?”
Shit. Had I?
Concern is written in his furrowed brow as he scans every inch of skin visible to him. “I was only gone a couple of minutes.”
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
He holds up a bottle of champagne wedged into an ice bucket and a plate of strawberries.
“Is this my Pretty Woman moment?”
Grey’s laughter wraps around my shoulders with the comfort of the best kind of hug.
“While I’d very much like to see you in nothing but a tie, I was thinking that it might help you relax so you can sleep. The strawberries are simply what I had in the fridge, and I”—he stares at the plate in his hand—“like feeding you.”
His admission presses against my most tender pieces.
This isn’t like the other times he tried to trick me into eating. Tonight, it’s how he’s showing his love language—he’s caring for me because this is how love makes sense to him.
“You’re vexing,” I sigh.
“Well, Monroe, I hate to break it to you, but you’re the only problem I never want to solve.”
“Why?”
He smirks, then sets the champagne, glasses, and the plate of fruit on a tray that he clips over the edges of the tub.
“Because you challenge me. You push me and demand the best of me without ever saying a word. You make me better because I want to be someone you deserve.” As he speaks, he quickly undresses.
He’s built like a Greek god, all carved muscle and veins that roll and pulse under his skin.
His long legs slip into place on either side of mine, and he leans over to grab a glass and a berry. He hands me the champagne and waits while I take a sip, then another, before he takes it from me and sips the crisp drink himself.
Then, as promised, he feeds me the juiciest strawberry I’ve ever eaten. I don’t know where he gets his groceries from, but these taste unlike anything I’ve ever had before.
Leaning into my back, he drops the berry stem onto the tray and grabs another. When he reclines into the tub, he pulls me with him. I relax into his chest, and my eyes drift closed.
Cool glass touches my lips, and I open for him. He tips the champagne flute, and the bubbly liquid fills my mouth. I swallow, and he removes it.
His warmth presses into me as he leans forward, but I keep my eyes closed and listen as ice clinks against crystal.
Here, in his arms, I’m safe enough to relax, and I’m finally allowing myself to enjoy it.
The shock of ice against the bruising on my left arm causes me to gasp, and my lashes pop open as I watch him gently trace the injuries.
“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly I’m not even positive the words are meant for me. “I underestimated him. He should have never been able to get to you like this.”
“What did I say about playing the martyr?”
His chin is pressed to the top of my head as he shakes it left to right.
“Blissy’s was full of people, Grey. There were over ten witnesses. Even I had no idea he’d go this far in public.”
“I should’ve anticipated it though.” The ice has melted, so he reaches over the edge of the tub and retrieves another piece. Angling my head to the side, I see he’s placed the bucket of ice on the shelf beside us, along with the glass we’d shared.
He presses another piece of ice to my right arm, and once again follows the deep, angry marks.
“Can we please not talk about him tonight?” I plead. “I know what he’s capable of, Grey. I also know that I won’t allow him to win, so for tonight, I just want to pretend that I’m…normal.”
Grey kisses the side of my head—a silent acknowledgment of my request, I think.
“Unfortunately, you’ll never be normal, Monroe.
You can’t be.” I stiffen in his arms, then lift my legs back up, ready to curl into a ball again.
“You can’t be normal because you were created for the extraordinary.
You were made to stand out, to shine, so never settle for normal. You’re too valuable for that.”
My insides quiver, like the first crack of thunder before a storm. Emotions are building, ready to strike and cause damage.
No one has ever thought me valuable before—possibly not even myself.
It might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, and I don’t know how to release the overwhelming sensations that are boiling my insides.
Strong arms band around my chest, holding me tightly. His fingertips are cold, but his palms are warm.
My hands fall to his forearm, gently stroking his skin beneath my fingers.
“Thank you, Greyson. For seeing me. For…everything.”
His cock thickens at my back, and a spike of arousal attempts to pull me from exhaustion.
Water sloshes in the tub as he attempts to put space between his cock and my ass, but I push back against him.
“You never thank someone for caring—that’s not how relationships work.” His words are stunted. I’m pushing him when he’s trying so damn hard to be a gentleman.
I arch my spine, pressing my backside into his groin. The need for him to take control of my body is as essential as air. I can’t explain it—except I’m craving the freedom submission brings me.
I’m so tired of fighting for everything I have. Tired of treating every decision as if one wrong move will be the one to sink me. Tired of being alone.
“You’re an expert on relationships now?” I meant to tease, but my words are so breathy, it’s possible I’m only torturing myself.
“Not on all relationships.” His hand grips my hip beneath the water, holding me still. “Only on the one that matters.”
“What one matters?” I attempt to roll my hips, but he’s already taken control of them. A long, pained sigh escapes my lips as I melt into his touch.
“This one.” His husky tone has my pussy clenching for release. “What are you doing, Sav? Tonight is about taking care of you. It’s not about sex.”
“Please.” I whimper—it’s a sound that has never left my mouth before, and he tenses beneath me.
“Please what?” His words are strained. The hot air he expels lands against the sensitive skin of my neck, and I shiver.
“Please,” I say again. “I need you to…”
“Words, sweetheart. Use them. Someone hurt you today, and I’m not going to take advantage of that.”
My head thrashes on his chest. He’s going to make me say it—he needs me to say it.
He’s unlike any man I’ve ever been with.
“You’re not taking advantage,” I whisper. “I—I need you to touch me. To help me forget. I just want to feel, Grey, without guilt, sadness, and regrets tethering me to a life I had no control over.”
“Fuck, Monroe.” His arm bands tighter around my shoulders, and I feel his forehead drop to the back of my skull. “You need to sleep—I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“That’s just it.” I pull on his arm, and he drops it to the side of the tub, allowing me to move forward, then turn to face him. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “I think, all this time, you’ve been the right thing…for me…and I’ve been too stubborn to admit it.”
There’s sadness in his eyes, but he smiles, and I realize maybe it isn’t sadness at all but hard-earned acceptance.
He reaches for my ankles, then pulls them to either side of his waist, meeting me in the middle of the tub before wrapping them around his back.
We’re nose to nose, chest to chest, and he cups my face on both sides.
“I love you, Savannah Monroe.”
Oh, God. I’m having a heart attack.
“I know that terrifies the hell out of you, but I. Love. You.”
“T—thank you?” Holy shit. Why the hell did I say thank you? Who says thank you when the sexiest man alive says they love you?
Me. That’s who. The hot mess express train to blabber’s bluff.
Grey barks with laughter, his cinnamon scent splashing me in the face with every exhale.
“You’re welcome, my honesty-challenged angel. Tell me what you need.” The kindness in his eyes obliterates my embarrassment.
He truly does love me.
I slip my hand between us and wrap my fingers around his thick cock. “I want you to hold my power safe so I can let go because I know you won’t try to take it from me forever—just for a little while so I can breathe—so I can be free.”
There’s a hint of sadness in his expression again, but he blinks it away before I can read too much into it.
“You are free, baby, always. Giving up your control doesn’t mean you lose yourself.
It means you trust me enough to take care of you while acknowledging that you’ve always held your own power.
It means you trust me to hold you together so you can let go.
You never have to face life alone again, Sav. Never again.”
“Never again,” I whisper.
“Never.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Again.” Then kisses the opposite side. “You can always trust me. I swear to you.”
“I do.” My words are cut off with a gentle press of his lips to mine. “I do trust you,” I mumble as his tongue seeks entrance.
Grey pulls back to stare into my eyes. “You will never regret trusting me.”
But will you regret trusting me? It seems to be a pattern of mine. I tend to break everything good and kind in my life.
Before I can ask him, his hand slides down my back, then he brings it forward to cup my pussy, and all thoughts escape me.
“I’m going to ask one time, and I want an honest answer. Are you sure you’re up for this?” His finger taps against my entrance, and I moan.
“Yes. Yes, I want this. I want you.”
“You have me, baby. You probably always have.”
With one thrust, we become one…as though it’s how we were always meant to be.