“I’d have walked home to another beating; I’d have had bleach poured over me for something else. I’d have taken all of Eric’s shit to keep the kids safe, and eventually I’d have made the choice to give up and die at his hands or get clear and lose everything anyway.” I kiss him again. “You gave me alternative choices. You gave my family their way out.”Another kiss.“You’ve protected and cared for my needs.”One more kiss, which he finally returns. “You didn’t ruin my life. You saved it. We seem to keep doing that for each other, huh? Saving each other at the strangest of times,” I admit, hinting that I remember. How could anyone forget this man and everything he’s done? All the times he’s made me a little less alone in my life.
Dax’s arms pull me across the small expanse separating us. The warmth of his chest is welcome against mine. “I’m sorry I ruined the moment. I upset you.”
I look over the shirtless man watching me with fear tainting his beautiful features. I shouldn’t care for him, but I do. I shouldn’t forgive him, but I probably always will. None of it matters. I’ll seize this moment for what it is—a chance at happiness.
“The only thing that I am upset about are those damned trousers. Will you take them off already?”
He snorts and stands. Tugging, they fall to the ground, already open from his initial attempt to sheath himself in a condom. Searching the bed for the foil packets, I grab the first I see. I hand it to him, too nervous even to consider opening it and putting it on him. I want to be brave and sexy, but I’m not there yet.
“You sure?” he asks. I nod. I’m more than sure. Nothing is ruined until you give up on it, and I’m not giving up on us or on this moment.
He rolls the condom on with ease and skill. I watch, both to learn and because there’s something sexy about the man you’re with knowing what he’s doing.
I reach out and grip his chin. Dragging myself in and kissing him hard before running my teeth over his lower lip and pulling back. I hesitate and stare at him. It’s his turn to consent. It’s my turn to ask.
He nods.
We sink into the mattress, hands caressing, mouths tasting. His fingers delve inside me and bring muttering prayers to my lips. He is salt and tang of something close to aniseed. His skin is tawny silk. His cock is hot and hard as I position him where I need him most. Fingers retreat from their worship and lift toward his mouth. He licks first and then offers them to me. I suck at them, only stopping to gasp as he slides his cock between my other lips and presses into my waiting heat.
It’s been a while for me, but it might as well be my first experience because this is nothing like the awkward stinging discomfort of my first time. This is slow, considerate, controlled. This is stroking, caressing, gliding thrusts that stoke the fire between us.
A fire that burns until all control is gone.
He rolls his body, fucking me deep, but I need more. I’m already chasing the release I tasted before, and so I rock into him, meeting his thrusts with my own. Rhythm goes to hell. Reason goes to hell. I grab at him, holding on and trying to pull him deeper, harder. As if I could take him entirely inside me and keep him there. The thought is absurd and a little frightening, but the intensity between us is too.
He speeds up. Each thrust hitting so fucking deep, I can’t help but grunt and huff with each pounding hit. It’s fucking glorious, and I’m going to come.
Nonsense bubbles from my lips. He notices how close I am and slides out of me. I’m almost feral in how fast I reach for him again. He swings around behind me, big spoon to my little, and lines us up, sinking into me again. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me into his body.
I should feel trapped, but I don’t. I’m safe. I can fall apart knowing he’s holding all my pieces together.
So, I do.
There’s a moment where I know nothing at all and another where his thrusts become juddering bursts and he finds his own release.
Then there is only peace; Dax’s gentle fingers stroking my arms and his soft words, that I can’t quite make out, whispering at my ear.
Chapter Six
Alone and awake, with the curtains drawn and the dark décor, I have no concept of time, but I’m rested, so it must be morning. Naked and wrapped in Dax’s sheets, I starfish my arms and legs, stretching and checking to see how long ago he left. The bed is cooling, but there’s a trace of lingering warmth. I close my eyes and let last night swirl in my mind. I’m proud of myself for making the move and embarrassed all at the same time.
I never knew aches could feel good. My body protests every movement I make, but only because this languid comfort is its own kind of heaven. I’m curious about Dax’s current feelings about last night and consider waiting for his return. Still, this isn’t my room, and I have no idea what time it is. I glance around for a clock, an alarm, a phone—something, but there’s nothing. There is, however, just enough light to see by, and it’s coming from the doorway Dax was leaning against last night. I hear the steady hiss of running water and decide a shower is exactly what I need.
I guess I’m about to find out how Dax feels in the light of day.
Swallowing up every anxious, self-conscious, body-insecurity thought I have, I stalk to the bathroom utterly naked and swing open the door, thanking the heavens he didn’t lock it. That has to be a good sign, right? An invitation?
Steam clouds the shower door and mirrors. The heat in the room is comfortable, but he obviously likes his shower hot.
“Want some company?” I ask, giving him the right to refuse before I slide the shower door open and he’s forced to reject me to my face. It clicks as he opens it for me. I accept the invitation and climb in behind him.
Only, it’s not Dax.
“Good morning, Tiger,” Aiden drawls, turning around with a huge grin. “You look fucking stunning this morning!”
Stunning is the right word, but for the wrong reasons. I am stunned. Gobsmacked. Staring at a wall of slick, wet muscles. I try to tear my eyes away from the way the water streams in rivulets over the chiselled perfection of his carved form, but there’s nowhere else to look. I try looking down, but, holy hell, that’s even more of a mistake. A thatch of soft brown curls is my only warning before another kind of muscle greets my bleary eyes. Is it even a muscle? God, I don’t know, but it flexes and moves like he’s showing it off, and he has every right. Shorter than Dax’s but thicker, his cock is just as impressive as the rest of him. I try to speak, but words are not my priority at this moment.
“Fuck. Shit…Um…sorry! I thought you were…Goddamn it!”
