Chapter 22 Here Me Roar #2
“Will be disappointed but he'll understand. He knows what it's like to choose love.” I pulled back to look at him. “I want the Olympics, but I want them with you in the stands. I want Team USA with you waiting for me after practices. I want our life, our home, our future.”
“Our goats,” he added, and we both laughed.
“Especially our goats.”
When we were once again alone in my hotel, the energy was different. This wasn't Vegas with its tentative exploration or LA with its comfortable familiarity. This was Edinburgh, where I'd chosen him over everything else, where we'd defended each other, where we'd claimed our future.
“Are you sure?” he asked as I pulled him into my room.
“I've never been more sure of anything in my life.”
We took our time. Slow kisses that built like fire, hands relearning familiar territory with new intent. When he pulled my sweater over my head, his hands were shaking slightly.
“You're nervous,” I observed.
“This is different,” he said. “This is... this matters.”
“The other times mattered too.”
“Not like this.” He cupped my face in his hands. “This is me making love to the woman I'm going to marry someday. This is the beginning of our real story.”
My throat went tight. “You want to marry me?”
“Artie, I've wanted to marry you since you tried to fight Xander for me in the library.” He kissed me softly. “But we can talk about that later. Right now, I just want to show you how much I love you.”
And he did. Oh, how he did.
It was different from Vegas, from our practice sessions, from every other time I'd been with anyone.
This was worship and claiming and promising all at once.
This was Gryff showing me with his hands and mouth and body that I was cherished, that I was precious, that I was exactly right exactly as I was.
“You're perfect,” he whispered against my skin. “Every inch of you is perfect.”
I'd never felt small before, never felt delicate, but in his arms I felt both those things while still feeling powerful. It was magic, the way he looked at me, touched me, loved me.
He kissed his way down my throat, taking his time, mapping every inch like he was memorizing me. His hands skimmed along my sides, tracing the curves there with obvious appreciation.
“God, Artie,” he breathed, pulling back to look at me. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? How gorgeous you are?”
I was ready to deflect. It was so much to have his attention so fully on me. I couldn't imagine doing anything like this with anyone else. He stopped me from spiraling back to a place I no longer belonged with a kiss.
“Don't,” he said softly. “Don't minimize this. Let me appreciate you, every single inch of you.”
His mouth traveled lower, across my collarbones, down to the swell of my breasts, where he licked and sucked one nipple and then the other. His hands continued to explore, down, down, pushing between my legs until his fingers found me already wet and wanting.
“I fucking love how wet you get for me. Next time I'm going to make you ride my fingers while I suck these nipples until you come so hard you can't breathe.”
Just hearing him tell me his fantasies like this was already taking my breath away. “Only if you let me do the same to you.”
I love knowing he was the one person in the world I could truly let go with. But I wanted to be that for him too. “Let me touch you, explore you too.”
He groaned as I pushed my hands into his hair and gripped it tight. Seemed my Gryff liked a little edge to his pleasure. I was going to remember that.
“Mmm. I promise to let you have your way with me, sweetheart.” He withdrew his fingers, bringing his hand between us, and painted my lips with my own arousal. My stomach did flip-flops and a little whimper escaped me.
When he kissed me, he licked my lips and hummed like the taste of me was the best thing in the world. “I fucking love the taste of you.”
He slipped those same fingers into my mouth, giving me another taste of myself. My mind and body were soaring from such an intimate act.
No one else had ever made love to me in a way where we shared the act with each other so much.
He dragged his fingers down my throat, between my breasts and then to my stomach. His kisses followed the path to the soft roundness of my belly, his hands gripping my waist, thumbs stroking the stretch marks that decorated my hips like silver ribbons.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, tracing one with his tongue, making me gasp. “Every mark, every curve, every inch of your body is full of gorgeous strength.”
“Gryff—“ I loved the way his voice was husky and so filled with awe. It had me finding my own body sexy too.
“Do you know how long I've wanted this? How many times I've thought about your thighs?” His hands moved to stroke the muscles there, reverent and hungry at once. “The power in them. The way they felt wrapped around me in Vegas. I've been obsessed, Artie. Completely obsessed.”
He proved it, kissing along the inside of my thigh, appreciating every inch of soft skin and firm muscle. When he nipped gently at the sensitive skin there, I nearly came off the bed.
“That's it,” he encouraged, his voice rough. “Don't hold back. I want all of you.”
“Please, Gryff. Stop teasing me. I need you. I need you inside of me.”
“Oh, I will be. I promise,” he interrupted firmly. “You're strong and soft and powerful and feminine and I want you to wrap these incredible thighs around me and never let go.”
The raw want in his voice made me brave. When he moved back up my body, I did what he asked, wrapping my legs around him, using my strength to pull him closer.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Yes. Just like that. Do you feel how perfect we fit?”
I did. For the first time in my life, I wasn't worried about being too much, too strong, too big. With Gryff, I was exactly enough.
“Tell me,” he said, pressing kisses along my jaw. “Tell me what you need.”
No one had ever asked me that before. Previous partners hadn't cared enough to check, or expected me to be the one to ask them. For me to be in charge of our pleasure. But not my Gryff. He waited, patient and attentive, until I found my voice.
He wanted to take care of me.
“Just... don't stop looking at me,” I said, feeling vulnerable admitting it, but telling him what I would make this better for us both. “I need to see you seeing me.”
His expression softened into something so tender it made my chest ache. “Artie, I couldn't look away if I tried. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”
“Even when I'm—“
“Especially when you're like this,” he interrupted, moving to kiss me deeply. “Open and trusting and mine.”
“Yours,” I agreed against his mouth, and felt him shudder.
We moved together slowly, relearning each other with this new context, this new meaning. Every touch felt weighted with significance. His fingers tangled with mine, holding tight like he was anchoring himself. Or maybe anchoring me. Maybe both.
“Is this okay?” he asked as he settled between my thighs, and the question felt important. Even though he knew I wanted this, wanted all of him, he still took care of me, asking for consent in the sexiest of ways.
“More than okay,” I assured him, pulling him down for another kiss. “Perfect.”
He laughed softly against my mouth. “You're perfect.”
Even now, even in this moment, we were still us. “Your face is perfect,” I managed, then gasped as he shifted against me, teasing, close but not close enough.
“Keep your legs around me,” he said, his hands gripping my thighs. “I want to feel how strong you are. Want you to hold me like you're never letting go.”
When he finally slid inside me, we both gasped. It was coming home and leaving earth at the same time. It was everything.
“I love you,” I told him, over and over, like a prayer.
“I love you,” he answered, like a promise.
We moved together, slow and deep and intense, eyes locked, hands clasped, hearts hammering in sync. My thighs tightened around him, and he groaned my name like it was the only word he knew.
“That's it,” he encouraged. “Use your strength. Show me what that incredible body can do.”
When I got close, he slowed down, drawing it out.
“Gryff, please—“
“I've got you,” he promised. “I've always got you.”
And when I finally fell apart, he was there to catch me, following me over with my name on his lips like he never wanted to forget this moment.
I certainly never would. Every touch, every sigh, every single second would be painted on my heart, my body, my soul for the rest of our lives.