Chapter 52
Harmony
Eric’s mouth brushed mine once, soft, testing, like he wanted to make sure I was still choosing this.
Choosing him. I was. I always would. Before he could pull back, I slid my hand into his hair and kissed him harder, heat rising beneath my skin like a tide finally breaking free.
His answering growl vibrated against my lips, and then his arms were around me, lifting, drawing me into his body like he’d been starving for this too.
Wind rattled the windows. His heartbeat drowned out the rest of the world.
“Sunshine…” he murmured against my mouth, his breath warm, uneven, “tell me you’re sure.”
“I need you,” I whispered. “I need to feel you.”
His eyes darkened in a way that sent a shiver straight down my spine.
Like he saw the part of me I hid from everyone else and wanted it despite the cracks, but because of them.
He kissed me again, slower this time, deeper, his fingers gliding under the hem of his sweatshirt I still wore.
His touch was familiar, confident, mapping every inch of me like he remembered exactly what made my breath catch.
It wasn’t new. But it felt different tonight.
More intense. More necessary. More ours.
He eased the sweatshirt upward, pausing just long enough for me to nod. When it cleared my head, his gaze swept over me, hungry and reverent at once.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
My chest tightened. He meant it. He always meant it. I tugged him closer, hands sliding beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the lines of muscle across his stomach. His breath stuttered, and pride bloomed warm and fierce in my chest.
I did that.
Even after everything that happened, I could still do that to him.
Eric lowered me back against the pillows, bracing himself over me, his weight sinking into the mattress in a way that made me feel sheltered instead of trapped.
His lips found the curve of my jaw, the hollow beneath my ear, the places he knew unraveled me the fastest.
My body arched into him instinctively, a soft sound escaping me before I could bite it back. His mouth curved against my skin. “There she is.”
Heat pooled low in my stomach. His hands slid down my waist, slow, sure, familiar. He knew exactly how much pressure made me gasp, exactly where to touch to replace fear with fire. When his fingers traced the inside of my thigh, my breath hitched and my nails curled into his shoulders.
“Eric…”
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice rough with want.
Even when the world chased me, even when old ghosts crawled out of the shadows, even when I had no idea who was hunting me…
He held me like I wasn’t breakable. Like I was his choice, not his burden.
His mouth returned to mine, hungry now, his body pressing fully into mine until the last pieces of fear melted under the heat between us.
Clothes fell away. Skin met skin. The warmth of him seeped into every part of me that had gone cold on that ridge.
When he finally moved inside me, a soft cry escaped, pleasure, release, relief, all tangled into one overwhelming rush.
He stilled, forehead against mine. “Okay?”
I cupped his face, pulling him deeper. “More than okay.”
His breath left him in a groan, and then he kissed me slow at first, then building into something fierce and consuming. His movements matched mine, our bodies finding the rhythm they always found, the one that felt like breathing. Like coming home.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
I did.
And the world steadied.
Every thrust pulled another sound from me, every roll of his hips chased away the echo of footsteps behind cabin walls. His hands held my hips, my thighs, my jaw; anchoring me, worshipping me, reminding me I was alive, wanted, and his.
Pleasure coiled tight in my belly, heat climbing higher and higher until it broke in a wave that stole my breath.
I cried out, clinging to him as the world dissolved into light.
Eric followed with a rough groan against my throat, his body shuddering as he held me through it, as if he could keep me safe, even from the force of my own pleasure.
When the tremors eased, he collapsed gently beside me, pulling me against his chest. His hand drifted through my damp hair; his heartbeat steady under my ear.
There was no fear. No running. Just him. Us.
He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. “I’m not letting anything touch you, Harmony. Not now. Not ever.”
Eric’s hand stilled at my waist, like the thought had caught him mid-breath.
“Harmony,” he said quietly.
I lifted my head, meeting his eyes in the dim light. There was something there I hadn’t seen before. Not fear. Not urgency. Certainty. The kind that doesn’t rush.
“I love you,” he said. Not loud. Not careful. Just true.
The words hit me harder than everything we’d survived. Because they weren’t a promise or a shield. They were a choice.
My throat closed. I pressed my palm to his chest, feeling his heart steady beneath it.
“I love you too,” I said. And this time, saying it didn’t feel like surrender. It felt like standing still and finally knowing I was safe to be seen.
He didn’t kiss me right away. He just held me, forehead resting against mine, like the words themselves needed room to exist between us.
I drifted against him, boneless and warm, the storm outside fading beneath the sound of his heartbeat.
For the first time all night, sleep didn’t feel like a threat.
It felt like surrendering into safety. Into him.