Page 142 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“I know you don’t want to see or speak to me right now,” I mumble to him. “I know I’ve hurt and disappointed you. I know—”

“You don’t know anything,” he says, cutting me off.

He turns to me slowly. “Idowant to speak to you,” he says. “And I do want to see you. That’s what hurts so much. Because despite everything, I still want you.”

That takes me by surprise. And it makes what I have to do next so much harder.

But it doesn’t shake my resolve. I’ve relied too much on Phoenix, on Charity, on everyone one else. It’s time to stop hiding behind stronger people and figure out what I’m made of all on my own. And if I fail in the attempt—well, I’m willing to fail.

“I’ve been busy getting everything organized,” he tells me.

“You have a plan.”

“Yes.”

That makes two of you. You should tell him.

I bite my lip. It feels too big to voice aloud.

Rip the Band-Aid, babe. It’s the only way to get it out.

“I want you to know something,” I tell him. My heart is beating fast and I’m scared out of my mind. But I have to say this now. I might never get the chance again.

I reach out and take his hand. It’s a selfish gesture. I want his touch to reassure me. To ground me. To take the trembling away.

He doesn’t shake me off, so I take comfort in that and tighten my grip around his fingers. It feels so good, that I wish for one crazy, desperate moment that we could just stay here like this forever. In the gap between now and everything that happens next.

“Elyssa?”

“I don’t think I knew much about love before I left the Sanctuary,” I start. “What I felt for my parents seemed more like… obligation, I guess you’d call it. A sense of duty. My love for them was always tied to that. But once I left the commune, I met you and everything changed.”

I veer off unsteadily, realizing how sentimental and nauseating I must sound to him. His expression is unreadable, as always.

“What I’m trying to say is, you introduced me to love. Real love. You gave me Theo. You let me into your life. And I want you to know that you changed me for the better.”

His fingers curl around my hand. “That’s not something I’m accused of very often.”

I smile sadly. “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

His eyes grow troubled. I think he’s about to say something, but in the end, he doesn’t. And in that space, that breath, that silence, there’s something close to absolution.

Maybe that’s why I lean up to kiss him. Or maybe it’s because I know that I might never see him again after tonight ends.

Whatever the reason, the moment my lips sink into his, I know he’s been waiting for me to do exactly that.

Usually, he’s the one who takes the lead. I’ve never had the confidence to do anything more than let him.

But tonight is different.I’mdifferent.

I can feel myself changing. A year ago—heck, even a month ago—I would have thought it would be terrifying. Now, though, it feels liberating. Empowering. Like a caterpillar bursting out of its cocoon to realize there’s a whole, huge world out there, and it finally has the wings to explore it.

I start tugging at his clothes. He murmurs my name, almost like a question—“Elyssa?”—but I ignore it, spurred on by a sudden desperate hunger.

I pull off his shirt and start unbuckling his pants. When we fall back onto the soft grass, I scamper on top of him, hiking my dress up around my thighs and straddling him.

His cock springs free from his zipper. I wrap my hand around it. It’s warm and throbbing in my grasp and I can’t help letting out an eager moan.

I can’t get him inside of me fast enough. I’m already dripping wet, so when I tease the head of his erection against my opening, my body draws him in.

---