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My fingernails are digging into the unforgiving wall, my back arching as I slam into Gray, meeting every one of his harsh thrusts.
It feels a little like we’re trying to break each other.
But fuck it. I’m already broken.
He pinches my clit between his fingers, sending a bolt of pleasure and pain through me. I come on a loud cry, the sound bouncing off the bare walls and joining Gray’s deep grunt as he comes too. He keeps pumping into me until his dick begins to soften, as if he’s dreading the moment where we have to separate.
But that moment comes anyway, whether we want it to or not.
My heart is still pounding heavily against my ribs as he slides out of me, gripping my hips to turn me around again. I expect him to tug my pants back up, to put himself back together before anyone has a chance to find us.
But he ignores the fact that his dick is still out, wet with our combined arousal and jutting forward from his body. He ignores the fact that anyone walking in would have a perfect view of his gorgeous ass. He ignores all of that as his searching gaze finds mine, his fingers dragging along my jawbone as he tilts my chin up. Our faces are so close that our noses almost brush, and I can feel our breath warming the air between us.
Gray’s grip on my jaw tightens a little. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and when he finally speaks, his words aren’t perfect. They don’t magically fix everything. But they’re the only thing I need to hear from him in this moment.
“I’m sorry, Sparrow. I’m so fucking sorry.”
14
The only sound that echoes through the stairwell is my breath mingling with Gray’s, his body still slumped against mine, his head buried in my shoulder. His spicy scent is mingled with my own, mixed with the scent of our sweat and arousal.
My heart slowly begins to quiet down to a sated thud in my chest as Gray trails kisses along my neck, his hands still groping my body, touching me everywhere—like he’s afraid if he doesn’t, I’m going to leave him too soon.
My head is clear.
So fucking clear right now.
Like I can suddenly see again, like I suddenly understand again. I know why he did what he did. I don’t like it, but I can see now there wasn’t any other choice. Even though he knew all along, I still wish he could have found some way to tell me the truth.
I can’t hold on to my anger though. Not when his body is still pressed into mine, his breath fanning against my neck, his lips on my skin. The aftermath of sex with Gray is almost as intense as fucking him, but in a different way.
In a silent way.
In a soft way.
All those things I was just starting to let myself feel before he betrayed me, those feelings I hardly understand, start to creep silently back into my soul. I try to push them away, but it’s hard when I can still feel every inch of him inside of me.
He’s ruining me.
Ruining my heart.
Or maybe it’s already wrecked.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Sophie,” Gray says quietly, breaking the silence. His nose brushes against my nose as his lips press the lightest kiss to my own. “But I was willing to let you think I was an asshole to save you.”
My heart drops to my stomach as he captures my lips in another kiss. It’s slow, deep, and searching. It steals the air out of my lungs, making my head spin a little. This reminds me of the aftermath of our first desperate, hot fuck in the bathroom of The Silent Hour, except this time, I think we both know there will be no walking away.
For either of us.
It’s like we tethered our souls together when he came inside me.
“I did,” I murmur. “I really hated you, Gray.”
He brings a hand up to cup the side of my face, running his thumb over my cheekbone. “I know. And it killed me. But I was willing to let you hate me for the rest of your life if it meant you were safe and free. I was willing to pay for any school you wanted to go to, I was willing to do whatever it took to get you away from him.” A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he swallows. “I would have broken my own fucking heart to make sure you were okay.”
Shit.
I suck in a shaky breath, one hand pressed to his chest while the other curls around the back of his neck. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my palm, and for a second, I just focus on that—as if it can tell me something his words can’t.
