Page 74 of Red Rabbit
I nodded and bit my lip. I wanted him. Badly. But I was so afraid I was going to get a flashback or have a panic attack.
“I—I want you,” I said. I blushed at the admission and he smiled, his hands still running up my back.
“Then I’m yours, princess,” he said roughly.
I rocked my hips against him, enjoying the way his eyes darkened. My hands ran down his chest, tugging up his shirt. He shifted forward just enough so I could pull it off and then my hands were touching his bare skin as I looked at him in appreciation. He had lost some of the bulk weight he had when I first saw him but he was still incredibly fit. I frowned at the freshly healed gunshot wound on his side. My fingers brushed his skin near it and his abs tightened. Then I noticed his other scars. I touched one, running a finger lightly down the path it made across his chest. His muscles flexed under my hand and I found another one on his collarbone, a vicious jagged one that still hadn’t smoothed after all this time. When my finger traced it he shivered.
“We all break—don’t we?” I looked up at him, not really asking it as a question. He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles. I saw his fingers were also scared. He wore his past on his body just like I would. I looked up into his eyes, they were shadowed with lust and memories.
“We all break once,” he said.
He kissed my knuckles again and my finger touched his cheek gently. I reclaimed my hand and before I could think too hard about it I unbuttoned his flannel I was wearing and put his hand in the middle of my chest. He looked at me briefly, giving me time to stop him if I needed to, before he slid his hands over my collarbone, bringing the shirt with him until it fell off my shoulders. I shrugged out of it and tried to calm my nerves as his eyes traveled over my body. There were still bruises everywhere and the cuts Paxton made stood out scabbed and angry.
The beginnings of my own scars.
Shame threatened to surface and I almost pulled the shirt back on but then he looked up at me and all I saw was reverence.
“We only break once,” he said firmly. His hands running up my arms. “So we can put ourselves back together stronger than before.”
A tear slid down my face and he leaned forward and kissed it away. He kissed my nose, my cheek, my jaw. He moved down my neck and I arched towards him. He kissed every cut and bruise he could reach and then found my lips again.
Our kiss was deep and vast, encompassing the depths of our suffering and trying desperately to reach the places where the shadows were heaviest. His hands traced over my breasts and with feather lightness teased my nipples. My breath caught, conditioned to think the pain was coming. He kissed my neck.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. And I believed him.
I reached down between us and unzipped his pants, watching him shift so his hard cock could get free. I was afraid. My pussy was so close to him. I wasn’t wearing panties because I didn’t have any and I knew I was wet. But I couldn’t bring myself to move. He gently tipped my chin up to look at him.
“All you have to do is say stop,” he said.
He kissed me gently. His hands didn’t stray from my face and gradually I relaxed as I got caught up in kissing him. Slowly I found myself letting my body slide closer until my pussy was resting against his length. I could hear his breathing pick up and I marveled at his control. He kissed my neck and I arched into him, pressing my hips harder against him. I reached down and tentatively touched his cock with my hand, feeling how gloriously soft his skin was over his hard arousal. I ground my hips against him slowly and then my hand helped guide him to my entrance.
As he pressed into me, I couldn’t breathe and I froze. I didn’t want it to hurt and I didn’t know if I was healed enough. I didn’t know if mentally I was ready to reclaim this. Graham sat still as he watched me battle myself. His only movement were his hands, gently rubbing circles on my waist where they sat.
He wasn’t pulling, he wasn’t gripping, he simply was waiting for me to take control. I finally let him sink all the way inside me slowly and I shuddered. A ripple of pleasure traveled through Graham and I looked up at his face. His eyes were half closed, a muscle in his neck was tense as though it was taking everything for him to sit still. I knew he wanted to flip me onto my back and fuck me until I was begging underneath him. But the very thought caused me to panic.
“Kiss me,” he said when he felt me start to freak out.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, still in my head. But as he kissed me I once again felt myself sink into him and as my panic calmed, I paid attention to how he felt inside me. Icould feel all of him and how wet I was. I moved my hips and his fingers tightened on me for a moment. I moaned as the heat built and I tried to turn off my mind.
I found a pace that left me panting against his lips and he groaned as he wrapped his arms around me. For a moment I clutched him, my hands dug into his hair and he pulled me against him tightly.
“Stop, wait—” I gasped.
I put my hands on his chest and sat up, shaking and gulping in air. I leaned forward and rested my head on his chest, waiting for the shaking to stop. He put his lips in my hair, his hands gently running up and down my back. He was still inside me and once I calmed the panic, I moved my hips again.
I kissed his neck and he shuddered in pleasure. My hand came down to my clit and I tentatively rubbed it slowly, wanting more. But then shame washed over me and I stopped. Graham’s hand settled on mine and he guided my fingers to slowly rub my clit.
He didn’t touch me but used my hand to pleasure me.
“You deserve to feel whole,” he said against my neck. “You are gorgeous when you come. But that is your gift to give me. Not mine to take.” He kissed me again.
This was so different from when we first had sex in the tent. He’d been dominating and wanted to make me come undone in his hands. I loved it.
But he knew what I needed now.
He knew I needed to make this something special again. Something I gave to someone of my choosing.
He wanted to emphasize it. To showcase what it meant to gain my power back.
