Page 46 of Damsel in Defense
The way he says it—sweetheart—melts me.I lift my arms, and he strips the sweater off, revealing the simple lace bralette beneath.His hands still, and for a heartbeat, he just stares.
Then he lets out a soft curse and dips his head, kissing across my chest, reverent and worshipful.I moan when his tongue flicks against the edge of my bra, and my fingers clutch his shoulders like a lifeline.
Clothes vanish, one by one, until there’s nothing between us but air—and even that feels like too much.
When he lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, our eyes lock.His thumb brushes a strand of hair from my cheek.
“I’m not just in this for now, Victoria,” he says.“You should know that.I want you.Always.”
Emotion tightens my throat.“I know,” I whisper.“I want you too.”
And then he’s inside me.
Slow.Deep.Perfect.
I gasp, clutching him as he stills, giving me time to adjust, his forehead resting on mine.There’s nothing rushed about it.Nothing careless.He moves like he’s memorizing every part of me—like this is the moment he’ll think about when he’s away, when he’s missing me, when he’s wondering how the hell he got so lucky.
Every thrust builds the tension between us.Every kiss adds another layer of connection.My name is a broken sound on his lips; his name is a prayer on mine.
I feel like I’m flying and grounded all at once.
When I finally shatter beneath him, crying out as pleasure crashes over me, he holds me through it, murmuring soft things into my hair as he follows me over the edge.
We collapse together, tangled and slick with sweat, breath mingling.
I feel everything.
Safe.Wanted.Loved.
And I know, deep down, nothing will ever be the same.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
VICTORIA
There’s something magical about mornings like this.
Sunlight streaming in through the curtains, crisp sheets, and the warmth of Mason’s bare chest beneath my cheek.I press a soft kiss to his skin, just because I can, and his arm tightens around me instinctively.
“Morning, sweet girl,” he murmurs, voice still gravel-thick from sleep.
My heart stutters.
I could live a thousand lifetimes and never get tired of the way he says that.
His fingers trail lazily up and down my spine beneath the sheet.“Sleep okay?”
“Mmhm,” I hum, nuzzling closer.“Best sleep of my life.”
And it’s true.For the first time in days—maybe weeks—I feel safe.Since the fire, there’s been a nagging feeling in the back of my mind.Mason’s presence always quiets that worry.I know I’m safe with him.Always.
I’m about to kiss him again when his phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Mason groans and shifts, grabbing it.“Ignore,” he mutters.
But mine buzzes next.Then again.And a third time.
I reach over, confused.
