Page 183 of Saving Her

He put his future on the line. Hislife. All for me.

My gratitude will never die.

He slides his fingers farther inside, deeper and deeper, the heel of his palm placing pressure on my clit.

I need more.

So much more.

I grate into him, following his rhythm with my hips. I kiss his shoulder, his jaw, his cheek.

He stiffens further, his chest and arms becoming stone. Still he doesn’t take from me. He gives and gives and gives. Not protesting when I dig my nails into his skin. Not backing away when I bite his neck.

“How did I get so lucky?” he growls into my ear. “What the hell did I do to deserve you?”

His adoration triggers something inside me. It breaks open the hardened fear and sets my demons free.

I latch onto his wrist between my thighs, rocking harder, faster, until my world splinters away from the destruction and pain and realigns with peace.

I realign withhim.

I come undone, my core spasming. Pounding jolts of pleasure blindside me.

My breath is stolen with another kiss. My thoughts, too.

“Keep going, shorty.” He speaks against my lips. “Don’t fucking stop.”

I don’t want to. I could stay like this forever.

Thrumming.

Throbbing.

I cling to him, rock, rock, rocking, until the waves of bliss recede and all I’m left with are peppered kisses, depleted energy, and an overwhelming sense of exhilaration.

Wow.

“You’re incredible.” He holds my gaze as I collapse onto the mattress. “How are you feeling?”

“Breathless,” I pant. “Overwhelmed... Happy.”

“Good.” He places a peck on my temple. “Because I need to leave you for a minute.”

I don’t want him to go. Not now. Or ever. But I don’t protest as he slides from the bed, giving me an unrestricted view of all the scars peppered across his back like confetti.

“I won’t be long.” He walks to the bathroom door on the far side of the room, latching the lock behind him.

My euphoria rapidly recedes.

I’m almost lonely now.

The shower turns on, and the rapid rush of water falters, then rhythmically sloshes. He’s pleasuring himself.

Without me.

I turn cold. Should I have offered him relief? Or maybe he ran so fast because he didn’t want the offer at all. Maybe he didn’t want to be with someone who could be harboring a wealth of STDs, because no matter how paranoid Luther was about the cleanliness of the women he raped, it doesn’t mean I’m not dirty.

Luca hadn’t wanted to touch me to begin with. Had barely bridged the space between us before I asked him to turn on the lamp.

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