3. Gracie #2
“Gracie,” he rasped. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking.” I whispered. “I want you to trust me and yourself, the same way I trust you.”
“I could hurt you, glow. I know your injury has healed…” He looked toward my wrapped shoulder. “But there’s been no one. Ever. I don’t know how to be gentle with this. Not with how much I need you.”
Then don’t be.
I didn’t say it aloud. I let the bond flood with everything I felt. The ache low in my belly, the desire for him running through every inch of me, the certainty that had rooted itself in my bones, and the absence of fear where he kept expecting to find it.
“Stop protecting me from yourself.” I held his gaze. “I’m not fragile. I survived Ivan. I survived being shot. The only thing I can’t survive is you holding back.”
Basir’s will broke, something dark flickering in his gaze.
His mouth crashed into mine.
There was nothing careful about it, and a sense of victory rushed through me. His hands fisted in my hair, tilting my head back as his tongue swept past my lips. A sound escaped me, half gasp and half moan. He tasted like something so familiar to me now.
Home. Basir tasted like home.
With more force than I expected from myself and feeling almost in a frenzy to be as close as possible to my mate, I pushed him back onto the carpeted floor.
He scrambled to unlatch my bra as I ran my fingers over his chest, deepening our kiss and loving the way his body shuddered underneath mine.
Having an effect on such a powerful man was absolutely addicting.
His hips flexed up against mine as a deep growl broke from his lips.
“Fuck, Gracie.”
I pulled back just slightly to look down at his massive frame as I tried to wrangle the intense pulse of desire dancing through every nerve of my body—I wanted his touch everywhere.
I couldn’t help but grind against him, feeling the hard ridge of him through his pants.
His head tipped back, throat bared, a groan tearing loose.
“I want this.” My fingers found the button of his pants. “I want you. All of you. Not just the version you think I can handle.”
My words had him surging upward, one arm banding around my waist as he flipped us. My back hit the soft carpet and he braced above me, forearms caging my head. His eyes were so dark green they appeared almost black, pupils blown wide.
“I love you.” His words weren’t soft. They were torn from deep inside him. “I have loved you since you said I deserved light. Since you didn’t look at me with fear. Since you filled my life with a warm glow.”
My throat closed with emotion. I reached up to drag him down, whispering the words back as I absorbed every piece of himself he gave me.
Basir wasn’t holding anything back anymore—not a single part of himself. The weight of that hit me all at once.
He pushed his pants down, and I felt the hard heat of him against my inner thigh. Hooking my legs around his hips, I pulled him closer and whimpered at the feel of his length against my wet, cotton-covered center.
His snarl was feral, and I let out a relieved sound when a snap rang out and my panties were torn away, leaving me completely bare to him.
I shivered at the sensation of his powerful frame settling between my thighs, the weight and feel of him pulling a moan from my chest. His cock nudged against my entrance as I shivered in anticipation.
“Tell me if—”
“Please don’t stop.” I reached up to his chest, my nails digging into his muscles. “Don’t hold back, Basir.”
“Fuck. Glow…” He groaned, flexing his hips forward, pushing inside me in one slow, controlled movement.
The stretch of Basir stole my breath.
A blooming pressure and intense burn took over every other sensation, my body tensing as I tried to make room for every inch of him. My spine arched off the floor and his forehead dropped to mine, a ragged breath shuddering between his teeth.
“Stay with me.” His voice was rough as I held his gaze, tears filling my eyes. The burn was nothing in comparison to what I felt for my mate, what this moment meant.
His hips drove forward in a final sharp movement.
I cried out in surprise, instinctively locking my ankles behind his back as he sank deeper.
“Don’t stop,” I begged breathlessly, worried he would take my cry as a bad sign. I could feel my body softening around him, and I needed more. “I just need you to move. Please.”
“Never have to beg, glow. I’ll give you whatever you want. Always.” He growled, pulling back and driving forward in long, deep strokes that took him nearly all the way out before sliding home again. Each thrust pulled a noise from me I’d never heard before, belonging entirely to him.
When he kissed me, he embedded himself deeper and deeper, a whimper escaping my lips at the sensation of being so full. I clung to him desperately as the rhythm of his movements began to grow in intensity.
Sweat slicked between our bodies and our bond hummed like a plucked string, vibrating with every wave of pleasure between us. I could feel myself building toward the peak I craved, and when he shifted his angle just slightly—
I shattered.
The orgasm rolled through me in a wave of heat, my walls clenching around him, and the noise he made—a primal growl buried against my shoulder—sent another ripple through my core. My nails raked down his back.
Basir continued to drive into me through the aftershocks, his voice rough against my skin. “Again, glow. I want even more from you.”
And I wanted everything from him. I wanted him wrecked, dizzy with pleasure like myself. I wanted his restraint in splinters on the floor.
I also wanted to mark him.
I turned my head. Pressed my lips to the curve of his shoulder, where a tattoo curled like a wisp of smoke, and bit down.
Blood, warm and metallic, flooded my tongue. Our bond didn’t just flare—it erupted. Warmth cascaded through me, a brilliant silver cord dancing between us as his body locked above mine. A sound ripped from his throat, part shock, part revelation.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes as I released him, his hips still rolling in deep strokes. “My turn, glow.”
His mouth descended to my right shoulder, the one that bore only a soft pink scar where a bullet had torn through. His lips brushed the puckered skin, and I felt him trembling, trying to still his deep movements.
“You almost died,” he murmured against the scar. “You almost left me before I could tell you.”
“I’m here.” My voice broke, nails digging into his back once more. “I’m right here. Forever.”
Basir’s teeth sank into my skin.
The pain was a pinprick compared to the flood of pleasure that followed.
Silver light spilled through the bond, through my very veins, through the place where his mouth met my skin.
I felt his heartbeat inside my chest. I felt his fear, his hope, the guilt now softening in the warmth of being loved.
Basir’s thrusts turned desperate as I let my legs fall open so his body flattened against mine. The bond pulsed with every stroke, pleasure doubling back on itself, his and mine tangled until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. The coil in my belly wound tighter as a moan left my lips.
“Come with me,” I gasped. “Please.”
The growl that tore from his throat was almost inhuman. Then his rhythm broke. His body bowed over mine, pulled taut as he buried himself to the hilt and came with a roar of my name.
The second climax rolled through me in the same breath, pulled from somewhere deeper, clenching around him in pulses that drew a sob from my lips.
When he collapsed against me I absorbed the weight of him, grounding and warm, our breathing ragged.
His cock was still hard inside me, and I shuddered at the sensation against my oversensitive skin.
“I love you,” he said against my skin. “Gracie, I love you.”
“I know,” I breathed. “I love you too.”
When he finally shifted his weight and carefully pulled back, I couldn’t hold back a small wince. He stilled, his hands moving to my hips so gently that it made my chest ache all over again.
“I hurt you.” The guilt was instant, his voice dropping low.
“You didn’t.” I caught his face in my hands before he could spiral. “I’m sore. That’s different.”
He didn’t look convinced, so I offered him a shy look. “You’re big. It would be hard not to be sore.”
Basir’s eyes closed as a pained laugh left him—barely there, but enough to pull a full smile from me. Before I could say another word he was already moving, lifting me from the floor with one arm tucked under my knees and the other around my back.
“Basir?”
“The floor,” he muttered, his jaw tight. “I should have…we should have been in bed. You deserved better than the floor, glow.”
A smile broke on my lips, soft and genuine. “I loved it.”
He offered me a vulnerable look.
“I loved every second of it,” I said, pulling myself up to give him a deep kiss. “The floor included.”
The tension in his frame released, and carried me toward the bathroom without another word. Our bond was warm and steady between us, humming with our bond that had been cemented into place.