Chapter 8 #2
When she comes, it’s soft and sweet, her body arching into mine, my name breaking on her lips. I’ve heard bombs go off that didn’t hit me this hard. I kiss her through it, my hand slowing until she sinks back into the mattress, boneless and glowing.
“You okay?”
She nods, breathing hard. “Yes.”
I reach for the nightstand, grabbing a condom.
Her hand catches my wrist. “Wait.”
Every part of me goes still. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her cheeks turn pink. “I just want to touch you first.”
My brain short-circuits. “Suri.”
“I didn’t really get to last night.” Her fingers slide over my chest, tentative but curious. “I want to.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever been more turned on in my life.
I sit back on my heels and let her look at me. Her gaze moves over my chest, my abs, the scars on my skin. There’s no horror in her expression. No pity. Just tenderness.
When she touches the scar near my ribs, my breath hitches.
“Does it hurt?” she asks softly.
“Not right now.”
Her eyes flick up to mine. “What about your knee?”
“Sometimes.”
She leans forward and presses a kiss to the scar on my side. My heart stops. I thread my fingers into her hair, not guiding her, just needing to touch her.
She kisses another scar. Then another. Her hands move over me with growing confidence, learning me the same way I learned her last night.
By the time her fingers reach my cock, I’m hanging on by a thread.
I catch her wrist gently. “Careful.”
Her eyes widen. “Did I do it wrong?”
“No.” I laugh, but it comes out rough. “You did it exactly right. That’s the problem.”
A proud little smile curves her mouth, and damn if I don’t want to keep that look on her face forever.
“Look at me,” I say.
Her eyes meet mine. I push into her slowly, carefully, watching for any sign of pain. She tenses at first, her fingers digging into my shoulders, so I stop.
“Breathe.”
She exhales shakily.
“That’s my girl.”
Her body softens around mine, and I ease in deeper. Inch by inch. Slow enough to kill me. Perfect enough to save me.
When I’m finally seated fully inside her, I drop my forehead to hers and hold there. “Still okay?”
Her arms wrap around my neck. “Yes.”
I start to move.
Last night was careful. Reverent. A first time I wanted her to remember with no regrets.
This is different. Still gentle because I’ll never be careless with her.
But there’s more heat now. More confidence.
Suri knows what it feels like to have me inside her, knows what my hands can do, knows how good we can be together.
And she meets me.
Her hips lift to mine, shy at first, then bolder when my control slips and I groan into her neck.
“Like that?” she whispers.
I laugh against her skin. “Baby, I like everything you do.”
She tightens around me.
My head drops. “Jesus.”
Her fingers scrape down my back, and I move harder before I can stop myself. She cries out, but it’s pleasure, not pain. I know because her legs lock around my waist, and she pulls me closer.
“More,” she breathes.
I lift my head and look down at her. Her blue eyes are bright, her lips swollen from my kisses, her hair spread out beneath her like a halo. There’s still a hint of vulnerability there, but she’s not hiding from me now.
Something primal and tender tears through me.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her.
Then I give her more.
The bed creaks beneath us. Her breasts press against my chest. Her soft moans fill the room, each one driving me closer to losing the last shreds of my control.
I kiss her mouth, her jaw, the spot below her ear that makes her gasp.
“So good for me,” I rasp. “So damn perfect.”
Her body clenches around mine. “Devon.”
“I know.” My hand slides between us, finding her. “Come for me again.”
She shakes her head, overwhelmed. “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I—”
I rub slow circles against her, and she breaks off with a cry.
“That’s it.” My voice is wrecked. “Let go, baby.”
She does.
She comes apart beneath me, trembling and clutching at me like I’m the only thing keeping her anchored. Her release drags mine out of me, hard and deep. I bury my face in her neck, groaning her name as everything inside me goes white-hot and empty and full all at once.
For a long moment, I can’t move. I don’t want to. I want to stay right here forever, locked inside her, her body wrapped around mine, her heartbeat beneath my mouth.
Eventually, I force myself to pull back enough to look at her.
Her eyes are closed, her lashes damp.
My chest tightens with worry. “Baby?”
She opens them. She smiles, but tears gloss her eyes.
“What is it?” I ask immediately.
She shakes her head. “Nothing bad.”
I don’t believe her.
I pull out carefully and head to the bathroom, then come back to bed with a warm cloth. I clean her up slowly, and she blushes like she did last night, but she doesn’t look away from me this time.
When I’m done, I climb back in beside her and pull her into my arms.
“Talk,” I say.
She sighs, pressing her face into my chest. “You’re bossy.”
“Yeah.”
“That wasn’t an insult,” she rushes to reassure me.
“Good.”
She laughs softly, but again, it fades too fast. I stroke my hand down her back and wait. Finally, she whispers, “It still feels too good to be true.”
I close my eyes.
There it is. Again. That damn fear.
I tilt her chin up. “What do you need from me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you need time?”
“No.” Her answer is immediate. “No, I don’t want less of you. That’s the confusing part. I want all of this. I want you. I just keep waiting to find out I misunderstood somehow.”
“You didn’t.”
“I know you say that.”
“I can do better than say it.”
Her brows knit. “What do you mean?”
I stare at her for a second, debating.
Then I know. It’s time.
I kiss her forehead and climb out of bed.
“Devon?”
“Stay there.”
She sits up, tugging the sheet against her chest. “Where are you going?”
“To get proof.”
I pull on a pair of sweats and walk to the closet. On the top shelf, tucked behind my old deployment bag, is the box I’ve been carrying around since I left the hospital.
I take it down and stand there for a second with my hand on the lid.
My pulse kicks up.
I’ve been shot at without feeling this exposed, but Suri needs to understand.
She needs to know that while she was trying to say goodbye, I was doing everything I could to get back to her.
I carry the box back into the bedroom.
She’s sitting against the headboard now, the sheet wrapped around her, hair messy around her face. She looks worried and curious and so damn beautiful that I almost forget how to speak.
“What is that?” she asks.
I sit on the edge of the bed beside her and set the box in my lap. “After your last letter reached me, I was in the hospital.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“I got hit on my last deployment. Back and knee. I’m fine,” I add quickly when she goes pale. “Or mostly fine. But your letter got delayed. By the time it reached me, you were already gone.”
Her hand presses to her mouth.
“Yeah.” I open the box. “I didn’t have an address for you yet. Didn’t know where to send anything. But I’d spent years writing back to you. I wasn’t going to stop just because I couldn’t mail them.”
Her eyes drop to the contents of the box.
The stack of envelopes sits there, tied together with an old piece of cord I found in my duffel.
Some are bent from being shoved in bags.
Some are stained with coffee. One has a smear of blood on the corner from when I wrote it too soon after surgery and popped a stitch.
Every single one has her name on it.
She exhales roughly. “Devon…”
I stroke her hair back from her face. “I wrote to you after you said goodbye.” I lift the stack carefully. “Every time I missed you. Every time I got pissed because I couldn’t find you fast enough. Every time I thought about the life I wanted with you.”
Tears fill her eyes. “I didn’t know.”
“I know. How could you?” I place the letters in her lap. “That’s why I’m showing you now.”
Her fingers tremble as they touch the first envelope. “These are all for me?”
“Every word.” I cup her cheek. “You were never the only one chasing, baby.”
A tear slips down her face.
I brush it away with my thumb. “I was chasing you too.” My throat tightens. “I just didn’t know where to run until you finally gave me your name.”
She looks down at the letters again, and I see it happen. Not all at once, not completely, but some of the fear in her eyes eases. Some of that waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop tension fades from her shoulders.
I lean in and kiss her temple. “Read them,” I murmur. “Then tell me if you still think I’m going anywhere.”