Page 69 of Stiletto's Savior

It’s electric. “Song,”

“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispers, pulling back just enough to search my eyes.

I pause, feeling the weight of her words.

It’s only been a couple of weeks since we got her out of that damn place.

She hasn’t said everything that happened, but I’m not a fool.

If she was willing to kill herself, I know exactly the kind of atrocities that she endures.

“Are you sure?”

Her gaze holds mine, unwavering. “Yes.”

I nod, my heart pounding. This is it.

Nothing left unsaid. Just us, ready to take the next step in our relationship.

I lead her up the stairs, each step heavy with anticipation.

The hallway stretches before us, dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls.

My pulse races as I glance at Stiletto.

She bites her lip, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling in her hazel green eyes. “It’s over here,” she says, reaching for the doorknob.

The door creaks open, revealing a cozy room filled with warm tones and soft fabrics.

It’s inviting. Perfect.

“Nice place,” I comment, stepping inside.

I didn’t really pay too much attention to how it looked the only other time I was in here—the day she tried to end her life.

My gaze sweeps over her bed, the way the sheets are rumpled just enough to suggest comfort.

“Thanks. Just… try not to mess it up too much.” She laughs, but there’s a spark of seriousness behind it.

She’s always been a very tidy person, so it’s not a surprise to me.

I close the door softly, locking us in our own world. “Noted.”

Her voice is playful, teasing. “Now what?”

I take a step forward, pulling her closer. “How about this?”

My hands find her waist, fingers curling around the fabric of her shirt.

“It’s a good start,” she breathes out, and then suddenly, her hands are on my chest, pushing me back slightly.

“Wait.” She glances up at me, her expression shifting to something more serious. “I want to,” she pauses for a split second, “I want to savor this.”

“Slow it is.” I smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood through me.

With a shared glance, we start peeling off layers.

I tug her shirt over her head, revealing the delicate lace underneath.

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