then another, drawing her arms up over her head and pinning them to the floor. “I want you,” he said, his voice rough. “Don’t you dare try to tell me that you’re what I deserve because you aren’t beautiful.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t know how I can say the scars are beautiful. Not when I put them there.”
“You didn’t. A tree did.” Her throat burned, another piece of her carefully cultivated armor falling away. “It was an accident, Gage. Even if you did something wrong, you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. Because if you had taken your hands and put them on me and hurt me on purpose, then we wouldn’t be here now. There would be no coming back from that.” She pulled against his hold, firm, but not uncomfortable on her wrists. “But look at us now. I trust you to do this. What you mean to do matters. It changes it. It changed what’s possible for the future. You didn’t intend to hurt me. It was an accident.”
Saying it, believing it, was just another challenge for her. It stole more of her anger, more of that righteous fury that she had chosen to direct at him for so long.
She had said so many times that she couldn’t absolve him. That it wasn’t her job. That it wouldn’t change anything or fix anything.
But just then, something broke loose inside of her, and she realized that it would change everything. That she had to do it. Until she did, she was still holding on to the anger, she was still blaming him. Still punishing him.
“I forgive you,” she whispered.
She felt his body shudder against hers, and he released his hold on her wrists, grabbing hold of her face, sliding his thumbs over her cheekbones, over the tears that were falling there on her face, tears she had barely been aware she had shed. And then, he kissed her. It was more than a kiss. He was consuming her. As though he were bent on taking every ounce of absolution from her lips, from her very soul.
Like a man possessed he kissed her, his tongue thrusting deep, his muscles trembling. And when he finished, they were both shaking. Then, he moved away from her, going for his discarded pants, grabbing his wallet out of the back pocket and taking a condom out of it.
“I need you,” he said, his every word tortured.
In that moment, she wanted to be there for him. Wanted this to be something that healed them both. For the first time, she really did care about what this did for him.
She didn’t know if it would heal them. Or if it would break them. Maybe it would do both. Maybe both needed to happen. The thought didn’t really make sense, but her thoughts were muddled, by emotion, by desire. She supposed it didn’t matter either way.
She wasn’t turning him away, regardless.
He came down over her, between her spread thighs, kissing her again before he pressed his fingertips against her collarbone, drawing them down over her breast, over the tightened, sensitized nipple there. He pinched her gently before continuing. His fingers skimming over a web of scars on her stomach before moving to her thigh. He gripped her tight, pulling her up into a sitting position, then he lifted them both from the ground, taking them to the armchair that was by the fire. He sat down, bringing her down over him, so that she was straddling him, the damp entrance of her body open to the thick, blunt tip of his cock.
He flexed his hips, teasing them both with near penetration. She held on to his shoulders, boldly meeting his gaze as he slipped inside her about an inch, then pulled out again, the ridge on the head his arousal creating a slick, delicious friction inside of her.
“Gage,” she gasped. “I need you.”
* * *
IT WAS THE simple admission that did him in. Utterly, completely. That simple, perfect admission of need. It was when he lost his control. When he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
Gage flexed his hips, pushing his cock deep inside of her, gritting his teeth, trying to keep himself in check as her tight warmth closed around him.
She slid her hands down his chest, that wonderful, unpracticed touch testing his resolve in a way he couldn’t have taught her. He didn’t want it to end like this. Didn’t want it to end too fast. He owed her better