Forty one

Forty one

KADE’S POV~

I really don't know what came over me, bút I found myself coming back into her room. Vivian just stood there, her eyes widened in shock.

I’d said it. The words were out, and I couldn’t take them back.

“Kade,” she whispered, my name a breath, a protest.

“No.” I took a step closer, the space between us shrinking to nothing. “Don’t. Don’t tell me I’m wrong. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too. I see it. Every time you look at me when you think I’m not watching. I hear it in your voice when you say my name.”

She shook her head, a tiny, frantic movement. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is.” My control surged, “It’s the simplest thing in the world. You. Me. This.” I gestured between us. “Tell me I’m wrong, Vivian. Look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, then back to my eyes, and in that fleeting glance, I had my answer. It was all there, the same war, the same want.

“I can’t,” she breathed, the admission so quiet I almost missed it. It wasn’t a rejection. It was a surrender.

It was all the permission I needed.

I closed the final distance, my hand coming up to cup her jaw, my thumb stroking the high curve of her cheekbone. Her skin was so soft. Her eyes fluttered closed for a second, a tremor running through her.

“Then don’t,” I murmured, my voice low.

I bent my head and kissed her.

It wasn’t a question. It was an answer. The first touch of my lips to hers was soft, a testing, a sealing of a pact. She went utterly still for a heartbeat, and then a small, broken sound escaped her throat, and she was kissing me back.

Her hands came up, fisting in the fabric of my shirt, holding on as if I were the only solid thing in a spinning world. The careful restraint I’d wrapped myself in shattered. The kiss deepened, turning from something tentative to something desperate, a conversation of tangled breath and seeking tongues. It was a confession of its own, saying everything words never could.

When we broke apart, we were both breathing ragged. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

“Kade,” she said again, but this time it was my name as a plea, a benediction.

I didn’t answer with words. I slid my hands from her face, down her arms, lacing my fingers with hers. I backed her toward the bedroom, our steps slow, deliberate, never breaking the lock of our gaze.

Inside her room, I stopped, bringing her hands to my lips and kissing her knuckles, one by one. I watched her shiver.

“Are you sure?” The question was gravel in my throat. I had to be sure. For both of us.

In response, she reached for the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head in one fluid motion. She let it fall to the floor. The sight of her, standing there in just her jeans, her hair slightly mussed, her skin glowing in the half-light, stole the air from my lungs.

“Your turn,” she said, her voice steadier now, laced with a new, quiet confidence.

My hands weren’t quite steady as I undid the buttons of my shirt. I shrugged it off, and her gaze traveled over my chest, my arms, a slow, appreciative look that heated my blood. She stepped into me then, her palms flat against my skin, and the contact was an electric jolt. Her touch was cool, tracing the lines of old scars, learning the landscape of me.

I reached for the button of her jeans, my eyes holding hers. “Okay?”

She just nodded, her breath catching as I undid them, pushing the denim down her hips. She stepped out of them, and then we were just skin and shadows and the frantic beating of two hearts.

I lowered her onto the bed, the sheets cool against our heated skin. For a long moment, I just looked at her, memorizing the curve of her hip, the dark spill of her hair against the pillow, the trust in her eyes. I kissed her again, slower this time, a deep, languid exploration. My hands roamed, learning the soft weight of her breast, the delicate arch of her rib cage, the sensitive dip of her navel.

She arched into my touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Please.”

The word undid me.

I moved over her, bracing my weight on my arms. Her legs parted, welcoming me. When I entered her, it was with a slow, inexorable push that made us both gasp. Her eyes, wide and dark, locked with mine. For a suspended moment, there was no movement, just the feeling of being joined, of being complete in a way I had never known.

Then I began to move.

It wasn’t frantic or hurried. It was a slow, rolling tide, a rhythm we found together. The world outside this room, the dangers, the uncertainties, all of it faded into a distant hum. There was only the sound of our breathing, the soft rustle of sheets, the feel of her skin slick against mine.

Her fingers dug into my back, her hips rising to meet each of my thrusts. I watched the play of emotions on her face, the flicker of pleasure, the daze of passion, the sharp intake of breath when I found a particular angle. I kissed her eyelids, her temples, the corner of her mouth, tasting the salt of her skin.

“Look at me,” I breathed.

Her eyes, heavy-lidded, found mine. In their depths, I saw no more doubt, no more fear. I saw only a reflection of my own awe, my own staggering need.

Her breath hitched, her body tightening around me. “Kade… I’m…”

“I know.” I drove into her, deeper, holding her gaze. “Let go.”

A soft cry broke from her lips, her head falling back as the climax shuddered through her. The sight of her coming apart, the feel of her pulsing around me, was my undoing. My own release followed, a wave of pure, white-hot sensation that ripped a groan from deep within my chest, my name a ragged sigh on her lips.

The aftershocks trembled through us for a long minute. I collapsed beside her, pulling her with me, not willing to break the connection just yet. She curled into my side, her head on my chest, her hand splayed over my heart. Our breathing slowly evened out, syncing in the quiet dark.

I pressed a kiss into her hair. I didn’t have the words for what I was feeling. It was too big, too new.

She tilted her head back to look at me. Her fingers traced the line of my jaw.

“So,” she said, a small, tired, utterly content smile playing on her swollen lips. “That happened.”

A low chuckle rumbled in my chest. I tightened my arm around her, pulling the sheet over

us.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough with sleep and satisfaction. “It did.”