Chapter 40

Rising, he climbed from the tub and held out his hand for her. Once she'd stepped onto the mat, he dried her off, then himself, and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and rose over her. Braced on his forearms, he studied her pretty face, took in each aspect to be sure his suspicions were right. In awe, he gave up fighting and shook his head.

Love. That's what looked back at him.

Though she didn't offer the words, three little syllables he'd never heard, she told him with one glance. He'd seen it often on others, had longed for it himself once upon a time. He relished the flame it kindled in his chest, let it burn and smolder, knowing he'd never feel it again. She should give this gift to someone deserving, and he wouldn't dare tell her in return, but he could show her what she meant to him.

He reached for the nightstand, but she grabbed his hand. "You had frequent check-ups in the Army? You're safe?" At his nod, she swallowed. "So am I, and I'm on birth control."

No protection? She drove him to the brink of sanity, made his heart bleed, and he should genuflect merely being in her presence...but she wanted to drop the last barrier he had at his disposal?

Before he could wrap his head around that, she rolled him to his back and straddled him. Holding his face as if he were the precious one, she leaned in and kissed him. Soft. Tender. A brush of her lips and a sweep of her tongue. She said everything and nothing, and filled the infinite space in between.

Unhurried, he attempted to relay his sentiments in return. How unworthy he was of her. How she was the very thing he never knew he always wanted. How, heaven help him, she showed a monster like him what it meant to be significant.

And with her hair a curtain to shield them from outside world, he gave her his complete trust, put himself in her hands. Let himself slip into the delusion one last time.

She shifted and took him inside her, never breaking from the kiss. Unimaginable heat and soft flesh cradled him, inch by excruciating inch, until he was buried so deep, there would be no resurfacing. No recovery.

His sinuses prickled. His eyes burned. His throat constricted.

She paused, keeping them suspended on the edge of oblivion, and he couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

He'd not, in his wildest fantasies, imagined just how glorious she'd feel with nothing between them. Heightened. Overpowering. Intense. The sensation took sensitive and gave it a steroid chaser.

Worse was what followed. The blatant, unrefined emotion, the sensual slowness in the way she handled him. She caressed his shoulders, his arms, and laced their fingers. Still, her hips didn't shift, nor did she attempt to seek pleasure.

No. Instead, she made love to his mouth.

He sensed what was coming, but was helpless to stop her. Always before, desire and need had taken hold, had made being with her fierce and passionate. Though those elements hovered in the distance, this moment would be permanently hung on his memory's wall.

Because she made love to him. And he let her.

With a tremor and a shaky exhale, she rocked her hips, her cornflower eyes locked to his. She kept him trapped in her gaze, in the torrent of emotion he found there. Over and over, so damn slowly that he broke out in a sweat, she rode him. Days, years, millenniums passed until her body told him she'd had enough, that she needed him.

Untangling their fingers, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, never veering from her eyes. The punch of intensity at the connection slammed into him. Her breasts were crushed between them, she held his jaw, and they shared oxygen a suspended beat. Kingdoms could have been erected and destroyed, he'd never be the wiser.

Eyes open, he kissed herthe pressure light, wide-mouthed, and with the barest hint of tongue. And then he thrust. He used his arms as momentum to have her grind as his hips rose. She trembled, whimpered, and her lashes fluttered.

"Don't close your eyes," he pleaded. "Look at me."

When she complied, he thrust again. Heat exploded and planets collided. She rode him, matching his tempo, holding her face close to his so that there was nothing and no one but her. Pace painstakingly deliberate, he repeated the dance, bringing her down around him as he rolled his pelvis.

He flattened his hands on the smooth expanse of her back, then detoured south to grab her ass. Damn, the motion was amazing. Jarring. She wrapped her arms around his neck, caged the back of his head by crossing her wrists. Still, they watched each other, lips mating, bodies knotted, and her heart pounding against his chest.

The result was an epiphany, his version of an apocalypse. Because there would be no life without her. Truthfully, his existence started just a couple short months ago.

And it would end tomorrow when he told her everything.

For now, tonight, he had her. He gave her everything he had left so she'd hopefully find it in her heart, in some distant day, to forgive him. To understand.

She breathed his name, and it took immeasurable restraint not to kick up the rhythm as she grew close to unraveling. Quaking, she looked at him. Pleading. Searching.

"That's it, baby. I'll catch you." Somehow. But who'd break his fall?

Her walls fisted him. "Nate, I"

He crushed his mouth to hers to stop what she was about to say. It couldn't be taken back and she'd only regret it later. While she came, splintering in his arms, he grieved for the words he'd never get to hear. But that was his punishment. He deserved far worse.

With a shout into her mouth, he followed her and clung to her shaking body as he emptied inside her. Leveled, gasping, he rested his forehead to hers.

Taking in her flushed cheeks, her lips reddened by his kiss, and the sleepy wantonness lingering in her gaze, he died all over again. Christ, he'd never get over this. Over her. He'd almost rather be clueless than know there could be good memories to override an eternity of horrible ones.

Fisting his hand in her strands, he pressed her face into his neck and slammed his eyes shut when the hot threat of tears rose anew. Goddamn agony.

Somehow, he breathed through it, shoved emotion aside, and eased backward onto the mattress. With her on top of him, he kicked the blankets until he could reach the edge and covered them.

Her cheek on his chest, he smoothed her hair from her face and skimmed his hand up and down her spine. Kissed her strands. Let his lips linger. Breathed in her scent. Basked in her warm, soft skin against the hard planes of his body. And stored all of this for later.

"Nate?"

Christ, please. Save him.

"Not tonight, baby. Go to sleep." Arms around her, he held her in a cocoon and prayed she'd listen.

After a few minutes, her breathing evened and he sighed in relief. Once he knew she was out cold, he carefully rolled and resettled her on her side of the bed. He tucked her in and slipped from under the covers to get dressed.

From there, he headed downstairs, packed his meager amount of things, and secured the canvas bag on the back of his motorcycle. Then, he gathered the carved figurines he had lying around and set them on the dresser in the bedroom he'd been using. Hopefully, they'd make her smile and not cause more grief.

Finally, he climbed the stairs to the third floor and sat in the chair in her bedroom.

Watching her sleep, with a heart so heavy it may as well be lead, he dreaded the moment she opened her eyes. The irony wasn't lost on him and only made a mockery of the situation. A month ago, he'd been poised in the same spot, trained to her every nuance and twitch after her injury, scared out of his ever-loving mind she wouldn't wake up.

Elbow on the chair arm, he rubbed his lips. Her long, pale lashes shadowed her cheeks and her auburn strands fanned the pillow. That lush little mouth of hers was partially open as she slumbered away. Her habit of setting her hand under her head and her bare shoulder peeking out from under the blankets only added to the adorableness, fed into the naughty sprite image he'd first envisioned.

He watched her through the night, and when morning broke, he rose to wait for her in the other room.

She'd been right about one thing. Turned out, monsters were capable of love after all. But it didn't mean they should.