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He’s silent as we make our way up, and the moment he disappears into the bathroom, my stomach knots with anxiety.
What if he doesn’t want me here? What if his taunt about staying downstairs and allowing Reid and JD to do wicked things to me is what he wants?
What if—
The second he emerges, my eyes lock on his tired ones. Every ounce of fight has drained out of him. Without bothering to strip down, he stumbles toward the bed, drags the sheets back, and collapses into it.
But he doesn’t immediately pass out like I’m expecting. Instead, he cracks one eye open and slides his hand toward me.
“You getting in or just watching, Doll?” His voice is so deep and raspy that it sends a rush of tingles through my body.
What would it be like to hear him groan in my ear as he thrusts—
Shaking my head, I try to rid myself of that image as I move closer.
I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve slept in the same bed. My nightmares and reaction to them had to be really bad to convince him to do so.
But as much as I loved feeling his warmth beside me, or his soothing hand resting on my arm, it was never enough.
The second I lie down and shuffle closer, I discover that something has changed because when he reaches out, it’s not just to hold me.
His fingers tighten on my hip and he drags me across the mattress until there is barely an inch between our bodies.
His dark eyes bounce between mine as he tries to search for all the information he doesn’t know yet.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, making me swallow thickly. “You said you did this for me. I’m sorry.”
“Mav,” I breathe, reaching up to cup his jaw.
“I’m sorry I was never able to give you what you needed.”
My eyes flood with tears, and despite doing my best to blink them back, the torrent is too strong.
“You’re everything,” I whisper, my heart shattering for this incredible man before me. All he’s done for five years is protect me, try and give me everything he thought I deserved, and treat me like a princess. It’s not his fault that every now and then I need to be treated like the whore I was molded into.
He shakes his head, his hand skimming up my side until he mimics my pose, swiping my stray tear away with his thumb.
“I might hate it, but I know they’ve given you something you needed. I can see it in your eyes. I heard it in the way you screamed his name.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. It’s so quiet that there’s no chance he would hear me if he weren’t so close. We’re so close that it doesn’t take much movement for him to brush his lips against mine.
A sob threatens to erupt as he gives me what I was craving downstairs. A realization flickers in my mind that he wanted to do it, just not in front of an audience.
I close my eyes, absorbing the sensation of having his lips on mine as he tugs me closer, removing the lingering space between us and tightly pinning our bodies together. So tightly I can feel everything. This kiss might not be the kind that leads to more, but he’s certainly thinking about it.
Butterflies flutter in my belly. I feel like a teenage girl who’s just discovered her crush likes her back.
It’s ridiculous. He’s my husband, and it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve experienced him getting aroused around me. But this time is different. His hardness pressing against my stomach is the sign I needed that everything might just be okay. That he doesn’t totally hate me for everything I’ve done, for what I’ve been forced to do. Maybe once all of this is over, there really is something salvageable between us.
But as happy as that makes me, part of the excitement fades as I think about JD. About walking away from something else I’ve discovered here.
A tormented sigh passes my lips as Mav pulls away. But while my eyes open to take him in, his stay closed, and only a few seconds later, his breathing evens out and his lips part in slumber.
I study him. His hair that’s longer than he likes as it falls over his brow, his thick eyelashes resting down on his cheekbones. Tracing my fingertip over the long stubble that’s covering his jaw, I make my way to his lips, relearning the lines of his face.
Releasing his jaw, I trace Mav’s lips with my fingertip, wishing they were pressed against my skin again.
Unable to stop myself, I lean forward and steal a kiss.
