Chapter 14 Fragile
POV: Eric
She’s still on me. Naked. Out of breath. My fingerprints are already dark on her hips. My scent is all over her skin, skin I could damage without meaning to.
She didn’t get enough. Neither did I. Something claws under my ribs, snarling <
I lift her out of the chair. She weighs nothing in my arms. I carry her across the room to the glass wall. The city is down there, distant and small.
Her back hits the window. She gasps. It’s cold against her fevered skin.
“Eric—”
“Shh.” I kiss her. Not gently. I remind her where she is. Who she’s with.
My hand slides up her thigh. I feel every shiver, every heartbeat that’s beating too fast under her skin. My control is hanging by a thread.
She’s wet. Still. For me. The scent of her hits me hard and blurs everything else.
“Do you know what you do to me?” I breathe against her mouth. “What it costs me to hold back?”
Her fingers twist in my hair and pull. “Then don’t hold back. Take me.”
I take her standing up, against the glass. One thrust. Hard. Deep. Enough for her to feel it everywhere, not enough to hurt her.
She cries out, her forehead pressed to mine, her nails digging into my shoulders until I bleed. She marks me.
“Look,” I grit out, every movement careful even though I want to let go completely. “Look at the city while I’m inside you. Look at everything that’s mine. You included.”
She doesn’t answer with words. Her legs wrap around my waist and pull me closer. She isn’t just taking it. She’s giving it back. Meeting me with every breath, every sound.
My palm lands on her hip. The glass rattles. So does she.
“Harder,” she begs, her voice rough and sure. “I can take it. I want all of you, Eric.”
I give her harder. The glass whines. My hands don’t leave her: one under her, one at the back of her neck. Holding her. Keeping her from falling.
Each thrust shakes her. She takes it and asks for more. There’s nothing polite about this. It’s raw. Real. Necessary.
“Is this what you wanted?” My voice is low, wrecked. “To feel me? Not the man in the suit?”
“Yes!” She screams it. “God, yes!”
She comes apart clawing my back, biting my shoulder to muffle the sound. She says my name.
Watching her lose herself like that undoes me. It’s stronger than anything else I know.
I follow her seconds later, a groan torn from my throat. I fill her. It’s the only way I know how to claim her without leaving marks she can’t carry.
We slide to the floor, backs to the glass, her still in my lap. She’s shaking. Spent. Alive.
I breathe her in. The lavender is gone. All that’s left is the smell of us.
My heart is slow. Hers is racing. I need to calm her down.
“Move again,” I murmur, kissing the vein in her neck that’s pounding too fast, “and I start over. All night. Until you beg me to stop.”
She laughs, her breath broken. “Then don’t let me move. Keep me.”
I carry her to the bed. I don’t let go.
I lie down with her on my chest. I listen to her breathing. I feel her pulse under my fingers. I cover her with all of me.
She traces a scar on my skin with her nail.
“You held back,” she whispers.
I close my eyes. “If I hadn’t held back, you’d be in pieces.”
“I want everything.”
“You’ll have everything. But not in one night.”
She smiles against me. And falls asleep.