Chapter 97 Try again
Greyson
My hands found the hem of her sundress, the soft cotton sliding over my palms as I lifted it slowly, reverently. My fingers skimmed over heated skin that jumped at my touch. She was even more beautiful than I remembered—all the gentle curves and smooth planes, moonlight painting her body in shades of silver and shadow. When the dress pooled at her feet, she stepped out of it gracefully, standing before me in nothing but a whisper of lace that made my mouth go dry.
"My turn," she said, her voice husky with desire, and her hands went to the buttons of my shirt. Each one she undid felt like a small miracle, her fingers brushing against my chest as she worked, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When she pushed the shirt from my shoulders, her hands mapped the familiar territory of my torso—the scar from a childhood accident, the burn scar ,the hollow at the base of my throat where my pulse was hammering like a trapped bird.
I lifted her then, carrying her to the bed as if she were made of spun glass, laying her down on the cool sheets with infinite care. The moonlight loved her, I thought dimly, painting her in strokes of pearl and platinum, making her look like some mythical creature risen from the sea.
I worshipped her with my hands first, reacquainting myself with every beloved inch—the curve of her waist that fit perfectly in my palms, the sensitive spot just below her ear that made her gasp and arch beneath me, the dip of her spine that I traced with my tongue until she was trembling. Her skin was like silk beneath my touch, warming and flushing rose-pink as I explored her body with the dedication of a pilgrim at a shrine.
When I finally took her breast into my mouth, she cried out softly, her back arching off the bed, her hands tangling in my hair. I lavished attention on first one peak, then the other, until she was writhing beneath me, breathless and desperate.
"Please," she whispered, and the word was like a prayer in the moonlit room.
I kissed my way down her body, mapping new territory and revisiting old favorites, until I reached the juncture of her thighs where she was already slick with want. The first touch of my tongue against her most sensitive flesh made her sob my name, her hips lifting off the bed to meet me. I lost myself in the taste and scent of her, in the way she moved beneath me, until she was shaking apart in my arms, my name a broken chant on her lips.
Before she could fully recover, I was moving up her body, settling between her thighs as she wrapped her legs around my waist. For a moment, we stayed like that, foreheads touching, breathing each other's air, suspended in the space between wanting and having.
"I love you," I whispered against her lips, and she smiled, that radiant, transformative smile that had first made me fall in love with her all those years ago before Jake.
"Show me," she whispered back.
When I finally sank into her, we both gasped at the perfection of it, the way we fit together as if we'd been made for this moment. Her eyes locked on mine, wide and trusting and full of love, and I felt something shatter and rebuild itself in my chest. We moved together slowly at first, savoring the exquisite slide of skin against skin, the building heat between us. But soon need took over, and we were lost in the ancient rhythm, the give and take, the perfect synchronicity of two people who knew each other's bodies like a favorite song.
The climb was exquisite torture, a tight coil of sensation that built and built until we were both trembling on the knife's edge of release. When she came, calling my name like a benediction, I followed her over the edge, spilling into her with a groan that seemed torn from my very soul. We clung to each other as the waves of pleasure crashed over us, holding tight as if the world might try to tear us apart again.
Afterward, we lay tangled together in the moonlit sheets, her head on my chest, my hand stroking through her hair as our breathing slowly returned to normal. She traced lazy patterns on my chest, and I could feel her smiling against my skin.
"I love you too," she whispered into the quiet, and the words settled into my bones like a blessing.
I held her tighter, pressing my lips to the crown of her head, vowing silently to whatever gods might be listening that I would never let anything hurt her again. Outside, the ocean sang its eternal song, and inside, we were finally, completely home.
"I love you more, my baby love."
I looked at her and kissed her forehead.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm ready to try again..."