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As the final pulse of her release subsided, Grace sagged, her limbs heavy. Caleb boosted to his feet, capturing her in his arms, kissing her with lips that were salty and tasted of her essence.
She knew then.
Caleb had been right about one thing. There was no way back from this, no return from the threshold she had crossed. But in doing so, she had found a piece of herself she hadn’t even known was missing.
And she’d do anything to make sure she never lost it again.
26
Grace stole the breath right out of his god-damn lungs.
Caleb sucked in a tremulous breath, taking her in. Her skin glistened with droplets of water that clung to her curves like diamond dust.
Lust was quicksilver in his veins.
But lurking beneath the primal need consuming him was a persistent truth he could no longer deny. This woman had slipped past his defenses, burrowing deep into his soul and taking root in a place far deeper than mere physical longing. She had seen into the darkest shadows within him, the parts he kept hidden from the world, and yet she met his gaze with a steadiness that spoke of understanding and acceptance.
He had found a kindred spirit in her, and the connection between them was a tangible force that crackled in the air and set his nerves ablaze with anticipation. Right now, more than anything, he wanted to lose himself in her and let the rest of the world fade away.
He nudged the shower off with one elbow and carried her out into the bedroom, loving the way her wet skin slid against his own.
She let out a soft squawk of protest as he laid her on the bed. “The sheets. I’m wet?—”
He made a dismissive noise. “I know. Just how I fucking like you.”
“Oh.” Her mouth popped open, the pink tip of her tongue at the corner.
Fuck. He claimed her lips with a brief, searing kiss.
“Don’t fucking move.” Reluctantly pulling away from her, he retreated to the bathroom and retrieved a fresh towel, his body humming with anticipation. When he returned to the bedroom, she was exactly where he had left her, perched on the edge of the bed, goosebumps pebbling her skin.
“Good girl.” He drank in the sight of her. Gorgeous, full breasts that teased him with their rose pink peaks. The smooth slope of her stomach. Still wet curls at the apex of her thighs. “So fucking beautiful.”
Her lips parted at his words, but the only sound that escaped her was a small gasp.
Kneeling before her, he began to dry her skin with the towel, his touch firm but gentle. He started with her feet, running the soft fabric along the delicate arch of her instep before moving up her calves and thighs. His fingers followed in the towel's wake, tracing patterns on her skin that left her shivering.
As he worked his way up her body, he let his lips skim her skin as he pressed feather-light kisses to the sensitive spots he discovered. Slowly he worked his way up until he lingered at the hollow of her throat, feeling her pulse jump beneath his touch.
Her hands fisted the throw beneath her, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grip. She dropped her head back, exposing the pale, vulnerable skin of her throat, and the sight made his gut tighten. The trust she placed in him, the way she opened herself up to him, both emotionally and physically, was a gift. He knew the courage it took for her to let him in, to allow herself to be vulnerable after everything she had been subjected to.
She lifted her head, her eyes dark and needy, then leaned forward until her forehead rested against his, sharing his breath in the scant space between them for several long moments.
“Come here.” Her voice was breathy as she reached for him with soft, warm hands. Her fingertips played with the sensitive head of his cock, teasing and stroking until a groan escaped his lips. His control frayed, unraveling like a spool of thread under her glorious touch.
“Condom.” He muttered the words through gritted teeth. “I had regular check-ups when I served and there’s been no-one…fuck.” The bedside table had never seemed so far off.
Grace caught his hand. She shook her head, her eyes filled with sudden sadness. “We don’t…” Her breath rushed out on a sigh. “Um. It’s okay I can’t?—”
He caught her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze as her tears welled. He kissed the softness of her eyelids, tasting the salt of her tears.
“We don’t need to use anything,” she whispered. “Richard insisted on regular check-ups and…” Her breath hitched, the weight of her words thickening the air. “I can’t get pregnant. It’s okay.”
Fuck.
The revelation hit him like a punch to the gut. The thought of what she had been through, the abuse she had suffered, it filled him with incandescent rage. But beneath the anger blazed fierce protection, and a determination to shield her from further harm.
He cupped her face. “No one will ever hurt you again,” he vowed, his voice rough with emotion. “I promise.” The blood in his veins burned with a potent mix of desire and fury his words couldn’t fully express.
