Page 176 of Unholy Obsession

I step closer, letting her feel just how muchIwant it. “Then take off your clothes.”

She doesn’t move right away. She’s still measuring me and trying to decide if this is the right choice. A kiss is one thing, but is she ready to give herself completely to me again?

The old Moira would have already been naked and halfway across the desk. This new Moira thinks before she leaps.

I love the measured calculation just as much as the wildfire.

Because when she finally moves, it’s deliberate. She kicks off her shoes. Unzips her dress. Slides it down her body until it pools at her feet. Finally, she stands before me in nothing but black lace underwear, vulnerable and exquisite.

“All of it,” I remind her, my voice rougher now.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she unhooks her bra, letting it fall away. She hooks her thumbs in her panties and slides them down, never breaking eye contact.

I can’t hide how she makes me breathless.

And then she’s bare before me. Completely exposed.

Mine.

God, she’s beautiful. Still Moira.

I let my gaze travel over every inch of her. Her skin is unblemished except for the scars I already know, the ones I’ve traced with my tongue in the dark hours of the night.

“Turn around,” I command softly but firmly.

She does, slowly, arms wrapped loosely around her middle. The pale curve of her spine, the little dimples at the base, the birthmark on her right hip—it’s all exactly as I remember. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“They didn’t hurt you.”

It’s half question, half statement.

“No.” She turns back to face me. “Not physically.”

The implication hangs between us. The mental damage. The trauma. The way she’s had to rebuild herself in my absence.

I close the distance between us in two strides, pulling her against me, one hand tangling in her wild curls, the other pressing into the small of her back. I want to devour her. I want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go.

“I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight,” I growl, my mouth at her ear. “I should have known he’d try something.”

“You couldn’t have.” Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders.

I pull back just enough to catch her gaze. “No more secrets between us. Not ever again. Promise me.”

Something shifts in her eyes—a flicker of uncertainty. “I don’t want to make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

She’s being honest. The old Moira would have promised me anything just to feel my body against hers again. This new Moira understands her limitations. Respects them.

I brush my thumb across her lower lip. “I’ve never expected perfection from either of us. Just promise that you’ll try, and I’ll do the same.”

She nods, solemn. “I promise.”

Fuck, I love her honesty.

I kiss her then, finally, desperately.

My hands roam her bare skin, relearning every curve, every dip, every place that makes her gasp against my mouth. She clings to me, her body arching into mine like she can’t bear any space to exist between us.

When our lips break apart, both of us panting, I press my forehead to hers.

---