Exposure - Kelly Moran Page 0,66

be breathing.

She didn't know what was wrong, how to put to words these emotions she'd never experienced. So how was she to voice it to him? Helplessly, she shook her head, a sob catching in her throat. God. She was crying during sex. What next?

At once, his gaze softened and his body relaxed, as if he understood the assault within her. He released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her back, bringing her up to meet him chest to chest. Without breaking their connection, he stretched his legs out, rooting himself deeper inside her body. She held onto his shoulders as if the world would tilt again.

Pushing her hair back from her face, he looked in her eyes and thumbed the tears away. "Me, too, baby." He kissed her with tender brushes of his lips and gentle strokes of his tongue, saying so much without speaking a word.

Her hand slid down his chest, where the steady beat of his heart pounded against her palm. She wasn't alone with the emotions. He was right there with her, telling her through touch and actions it would be okay. They were still them, the same people, stronger now.

He eased back, blue gaze steady as they shared air. "It's not as frightening as I thought it would be," he whispered. Then he kissed her again, hugging her close while he brought his hips up to move inside her.

Heat stirred within her again, but different this time. Stronger. Softer. Scarier. She ground against him, unsure whether to panic or cry anew. It was all so overwhelming, dizzying.

He matched her movement, rocking into her with slick deep strokes, gliding against her flesh and creating friction. Need uncoiled inside her, shoving everything else aside to come together with him. He buried his face in her neck, clutching her to his chest as if letting her go would cause pain.

When they splintered, they did it together, and when they collapsed on the bed and fell asleep, it was together. She could only wonder for how long.

And as her eyes opened the next morning, her laying on her stomach, his head propped in his hand and fingers stroking her spine, the question was still in her mind. He was watching her closely, gauging her mood.

She sighed. "What are we doing, Noah?"

His hand stilled, his gaze searching and contemplative, mouth in a tight line. "Don't do this. Don't freak out."

"I'm not freaking out. I'm here, aren't I?"

He didn't respond, but a muscle ticked in his jaw and wary hope looked back at her.

She bit her lip. "We had a time limit and kept going. Nothing's been spelled out. I don't understand what we're hoping for by doing this. I don't even know what to say if someone asks about you."

Expression unreadable, he swallowed. Long moments stretched. His voice was a gravelly whisper when he finally spoke. "You tell them I'm the man who's in love with you."

Chapter Sixteen

Raven hadn't moved one muscle. She lay on her stomach in his bed, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief. He'd thought about holding back until she was ready to hear the words, but he'd lied to her for too long. Lied to himself.

No more.

And since they couldn't build a relationship if they kept halting any forward progress, he decided to say it all. If she ran, she ran. He'd chase her. To the ends of the earth and back. "I don't want a few months with you, I want a lifetime. You're all I want. That doesn't mean deciding right now and we don't need to rush whatever's happening to get to the end game. We can keep doing this for the next fifty years, if that's how you want it, Raven. As long as you're here with me."

Slowly, never taking her gaze from him, she sat up and hugged the sheet to her chest. He didn't move because something told him she needed the position above him to feel safe. So he remained on his side, head in hand, calmly watching her as his heart jack-hammered out of his ribcage and his muscles grew rigid in fear she'd walk.

Thing about Raven? She didn't trust people. Whether that had to do with a childhood she hardly remembered or whether she didn't trust herself was moot. The point was, he'd broken through, when all others had failed, and that meant something.

When it was obvious she couldn't or wouldn't speak, he said the rest of the diatribe which had shoved around in his