Page 14 of Hunted Innocence

“Were you with me, Grayson?” I ask.

GRAYSON

“One hundred percent, Nadine.”My thumb gently glides up and down the center of her throat.

I can already see my marks on her pale flesh, and I can’t stop the way my cock twitches at the thought of her wearing them always.

“I was with you one hundred percent.”

“I would have been with you a month ago and even a year ago,” she breathes.

I want to believe her, but I’m unsure I can. However, I also know that I would not have been with her the way we were today. If we had fucked months ago, it would have purely been surface level. But this was different—deeper. Something shifted inside of me when I found out the truth. When she exposed her vulnerability, when she told me some of what that fucker did to her—it changed everything.

We’re not as different as I thought. In some ways, she’s not as unblemished as I had imagined, also not as painfully shy as I assumed. In other ways, she’s just that—pure innocence.

“Let’s focus on right now, Nadine.”

“Right now,” she agrees with a single nod.

With a hum, I lower my face so that my lips touch hers. “Food, and then dessert.”

“Dessert,” she exhales.

She sounds like a sexy little breathy parrot. And as much as I try not to smile, I fucking fail because it’s sweet as fuck. Just like her. Every part of her is sweet, and I can’t wait to taste all of her. Clearing my throat, I school my features so I appear serious when I speak again.

“I’m going to eat your sweet cunt on the dining room table, baby.”

She shivers, and my lips twitch into a smirk. I can’t hold on to even an ounce of seriousness. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I bite down and try to keep from throwing her ass on that table and eating her right here and now. But I know she’s hungry, and I’m fucking starving.

So, food first.

Cunt second.

Jerking my chin toward the table, I turn away from her. Because if I don’t, I’m going to have dessert first, and both of our stomachs will be growling the entire time.

“Sit down. I’ll bring you a plate.”

She does as I demand, and I watch her walk over to the table and sink down in one of the chairs. Only then do I walk back into the kitchen to finish plating our dinner.

Thankfully, I had groceries delivered so we could eat, because while she was cleaning, Nadine emptied out the entire fridge of its contents. Though not a bad idea, because I’m pretty sure everything was rancid since it had been sitting in there for months, untouched. But that left the fridge bare.

Since we’d technically been living together while she was in the safe house, I also got an idea of the food she enjoyed eating, so I was able to make something that I knew she’d like.

Carrying two plates in my hands, I walk over to the small dining room table and set one down in front of her, then the other across from her, and sink down in my own chair.

“You made my favorite,” she whispers.

It’s nothing special. Dinner is just a Tuscan chicken thing. I saw a video about a year ago while I was scrolling social media and started making it with a side of pasta. I’ve tweaked it to make it my own and made it a few times for Nadine in the safe house, but Vaughn enjoys cooking a hell of a lot more than I do, so he usually has something going on up in his condo.

“Your favorite?” I ask as I pick up my fork.

She smiles, and I watch as her cheeks tint pink. She clears her throat before she lifts her gaze to meet mine. That shy woman from the office appears in front of me. She doesn’t want to tell me, but she does.

“It was the only thing you made.”

“So it’s your favorite?” I ask.

She hums, nodding a couple of times. “Because you made it for me.”

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