Chapter 28 #2
I stepped into him, into the heat radiating from his bare chest until it was flush with mine. His breath hit my exposed collarbone, and he slid his hand into my hair, fingers trembling.
“If you don’t want me kissing you right now, you should say so,” he murmured, forehead dropping to mine.
I exhaled shakily. “Kiss me, Graham.”
His hand fisted in my hair, and then his mouth was on mine.
It wasn’t soft or cautious. It wasn’t even patient.
It was a collision. A shattering.
His mouth was desperate as it crashed over my aching lips, stealing the very breath from my lungs. I gasped as he surged forward, swallowing the small sound as he pushed me back against the wall.
His body pressed against mine, warm and solid and shaking with restraint he was quickly losing.
His lips moved over mine like he’d been starving and finally found sustenance. Like he’d been drowning and had finally broken the surface.
His kiss was heartbreak and longing and relief in one brutal, beautiful thing.
My hands slid up his bare chest, fingers tracing the hard planes of muscle, tracking the steady thrum of his heart. He groaned, and the sound vibrated straight through me.
He broke the kiss, only to let out a ragged breath against my mouth. “God, Quinn…you undo me.”
I didn’t have time to respond before he kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine, slow and devastating.
He tasted like heat and fear and something I couldn’t name—something that felt too close to home.
His hands roamed my body like he wanted to learn every inch of it, every dip and curve. He lingered on my waist and hips, fingers sliding deliciously up my ribs and chest.
He shuddered when I threaded my fingers into his hair and pulled him closer.
We were unraveling each other.
Piece by piece, he pulled at my carefully woven threads of steel and ice. The tapestry I’d cocooned myself in since I had been broken beyond repair started to come apart at the seams, and under it all, I was becoming something new altogether.
He pulled back again, his breath a soft tremble against my lips. His hands framed my jaw, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, voice raw and pleading.
“No,” I gasped. “I want you.”
I hadn’t realized how much until this moment. Until his arms and hands and mouth were all over me. I never wanted him to stop. He had already stopped himself too many times; I wasn’t going to give him up anymore.
His eyelids slammed shut like that confession wounded him, and then he kissed me again—harder, hungrier.
My feet left the ground as he lifted me. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and he groaned into my mouth, hands gripping beneath my thighs as he carried me toward the bed.
I didn’t break the kiss.
I couldn’t, even if I was suffocating.
He laid me down on the mattress but didn’t climb over me at first. He hovered above, his chest heaving, drinking me in like he couldn’t believe I was real.
His hand slid up my arm, slow and reverent, stopping over the bruises Preston had left. His thumb brushed them, featherlight.
“Does it hurt?” he whispered.
“Not anymore,” I breathed.
He lowered his forehead against mine for a moment, and then he turned his head, kissing down the side of my face, my neck, and down my shoulder until he came to the bruise on my upper arm. He kissed that, too, soft and gentle, like he was trying to rewrite the memory with something better.
He lifted his head, moving across my body to kiss the other arm banded in purple before leisurely making his way back up the path he had trailed from.
“Graham,” I murmured against his lips.
I pulled him down against me, needing his weight, the anchor of him. He came willingly—fitting his body against mine like he’d been made for me and me alone.
His hands slid beneath my shirt, warm and careful, tracing up my ribs until he found the edge of my bra. His touch was slow, hesitant, like he wanted me to stop him.
I didn’t.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need you.”
Something snapped inside him, clear in the flare of his eyes.
His breath hitched; his other hand tightened on my waist, and he kissed me like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment.
His mouth trailed down my throat again as his hands pushed my tank top up, baring inch after inch of skin. I arched into him.
He lifted his head, eyes dark and blown wide. “Quinn…”
I cupped his face in both hands, not giving him a moment of uncertainty. “I want this. I want you.”
Whatever restraint he had left shattered like the walls I’d built around my heart.
Clothes came off in frantic, clumsy touches. His hands were everywhere—gentle where I was sore, hungry everywhere else. My nails dragged down his back, and he moaned into my mouth, deep and guttural.
When he finally pressed his hips against me, the heat of him aligning with mine, I gasped. He froze.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I breathed. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He kissed me once more—slow, almost worshipful—and then he guided himself as our bodies finally, finally came together.
Every broken piece inside me felt like it was finding a home.
And damn, was it like nothing I had ever experienced before. I had been with men, but this—this was different. This felt wholly new.
We moved together, the ache deep inside me winding tighter and tighter. Graham was everywhere. His scent, his touch, his warmth: the world had narrowed to nothing but him and the feel of his breath on my skin.
Between whispered gasps and low moans, it wasn’t only his body reaching out to mine, wrapping around me—it was something more. His heart, maybe. Or his soul.
I wasn’t even sure I believed in a soul, but I felt his—his very being, the light inside him, reached out to me and I grasped it like a greedy child wanting all of it for herself.
“Graham.” I cried out his name, the tension and the pleasure ratcheting higher.
He nestled his nose in the crook of my neck, releasing my name on a sigh.
My legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, deeper.
It was too much…my heart was going to explode in my chest. I had done this before, but it had never felt like this. My entire body shook.
“Look at me, little lynx,” Graham breathed, soft but commanding.
I forced my eyes open. I hadn’t realized I’d shut them.
The moment our gazes caught, something inside me broke.
His expression scorched me to the bone. No one had ever looked at me like that. It was undeniable in the blue hues of his eyes…the adoration. As if I were something precious.
His thumb brushed my cheekbone. My hips instinctively tilted up to meet him again and the sound he made—low, almost awed—nearly undid me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice rough. “So damn beautiful, Quinn.”
My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer. “Graham, I—” It felt like I was falling, too. Spiraling into a place I never knew existed.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against my lips.
His pace deepened, slow but unrelenting, hitting something inside me that made my breath break into ragged, desperate sounds. I clung to him, my nails dragging along his shoulders, his back, anything I could reach just to ground myself.
Pleasure surged up my spine, bright and overwhelming. My vision blurred.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, forehead dropping to mine, his breath trembling. “Let go for me. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
My body arched, my breath shattering into pieces. The tension inside me snapped like a cord pulled too tight, and everything spilled over—light, heat, relief so intense it stole every word from my lips except his name.
He followed me with a ragged groan, burying his face in my neck as he held me tight, his whole body shaking.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
Our breathing tangled. Our hearts pounded against each other. His weight settled fully over me, grounding me again after the world had blown apart.
Slowly, the tremors eased. The moment came back together. I came back to myself, and his hand swept up my side, gentle and soothing.
I turned my head, brushing my lips against his temple.
When he finally lifted his face to look at me, there was something new in his expression.
It wasn’t want or need or tenderness. It was something deeper. Something terrifying and beautiful.
He cupped my cheek, thumb tracing the corner of my mouth. “Are you okay?” he whispered, voice hoarse.
I nodded, forcing back tears.
His kiss was soft and lingering this time. Precious. When had he become this important to me? So…vital?
Then he lowered his head to my chest, wrapping his arms around me like he was afraid I’d vanish.
I held him just as tightly.
For the first time in my entire life, I felt wanted.