Page 72 of Unbroken

Devon didn’t worry about closing the door behind us. He immediately turned, concern and fear distorting his features ashe urgently looked me over. His hands clasped my face, and I looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Blake.”

“I’m okay,” I whispered. I inhaled for five seconds, held it for five seconds, and exhaled. I repeated the pattern three times, and finally the terror began to subside. My heart was still pounding, but my visceral reaction was waning. “I’m okay.”

“What happened?” He kissed my forehead and then both of my cheeks, brushing away the final tears.

God, I’d totally ruined the mood with my panic. But I knew Devon needed to know about these things. I’d been intentionally vague about my experiences because I didn’t want to share my trauma. But if we were going to make this work, he had to know.

“I don’t like the dark,” I said quietly, hoping whoever was still in the kitchen wouldn’t hear us. I covered his hands that were still on my cheeks and continued, “That basement was so dark…it’s stuck with me. So, whenever it’s pitch black, when I can’t see a foot in front of me, I tend to freak out.”

The sympathy in his eyes was sweet, but it was the muscles in his jaw ticcing that belied his underlying anger. “That makes sense. I’ll be more cautious of that from now on. I’m sorry.”

I cut off his apology with a shake of my head. “You didn’t know.” I smiled weakly, and he returned it. “And now I feel like I’ve ruined the mood.”

“Not one bit.”

“This probably won’t be the last time something like this will happen either. I have a lot more good days than bad now, but sometimes the smallest things will set me off. Like a pitch-black room or someone brushing up against my back.”

He nodded and kissed me softly. It was amazing what that one kiss did to calm my racing heart. “I understand. And I’ll be here for all the good and the bad.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he was sure. To clarify that the bad times were really bad sometimes and that heshouldn’t just agree to agree. But it was Devon. He meant what he said, and he didn’t say things lightly.

And there was pure honesty and devotion reflected back to me. I trusted him.

I was tall, but I still needed to press up onto my toes slightly to reach his mouth without any other help. Our lips brushed once and then again, but his kiss was tentative.

I pulled back and assessed him. “Are you sure I didn’t ruin the mood? I promise I’m okay now, and I’ll be okay.”

Devon’s response wasn’t what I expected. He dropped his hands from my face and wrapped them around my waist, tugging me against him. But his answer was loud and clear, or rather long and hard, against my stomach.

“I’m sure,” he whispered, dipping down to take my mouth again. That time, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation, and the kiss was the perfect antidote to any of my lingering fear.

Behind us and around the corner, someone giggled. Devon and I stopped at the same time, lips only a breath apart as we listened. There were hushed whispers and then the sound of feet on the stairs.

We didn’t move again until the voices were far enough away. Then a door shut somewhere upstairs, and I hoped we were in the clear.

“We need to go upstairs.Now,” Devon growled against my mouth, punctuating his words with one last fierce kiss. He stepped back and took my hand, peeking around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, and he quickly led us through the kitchen.

When we passed the island, I saw the remnants of my half-eaten cupcake were gone, but I didn’t stop to investigate further. We quietly yet quickly ascended the stairs. My room was the closest—not by much, but it was still closer—so Devon took a sharp left and pulled me inside.

He closed the door and had me pressed against it quickerthan I could think about what was happening. When my mind caught up with my body, all I could consider was the pleasure pulsing through me.

Devon’s mouth was blazing a hot trail down my neck and toward the wide collar of my large T-shirt. His big hands tightened around my waist and pushed the hem of my T-shirt higher. The first brush of his fingers against the bare skin of my stomach made me shudder.

He liked my response because it earned me a low moan in my ear.

“You were right earlier,” he said, kneading my hips and trailing his calloused fingertips over my stomach and back. “Nothing has ever felt this good, because nothing has ever been thisright.”

I nodded and clasped his face in my hands. Against my palms, the scratch of the stubble along his sharp jaw made me consider how it might feel when he kissed other places. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone or anything before. But there was something I needed him to know before we continued. Maybe it wasn’t necessary to say, but I needed to vocalize it either way.

“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met. But I don’t want you to hold back.”

He licked his lips and watched my mouth. “I don’t think I could hold back even if I tried. And sweet isn’t necessarily the word I would describe how I usually like to fuck. Because that’s what I plan to do. You’ve been the center of every single one of my dirty fantasies since I met you. I want to do all the things I’ve dreamed of doing to you for the last ten years.”

His dirty confession made me push off the door and press closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Good. I want that because I won’t break, Devon. I’m not…broken.” My voice hitched on the last word and all the awful memories it stirred, but I didn’t let it affect me.

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