Page 163 of Deliverance

“There are no expectations.” I move to cup her face, my eyes meeting hers. “I told you that before.”

“I’m not what you think I am, Zander,” she whispers. “I thought I could be strong, but I can’t.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” I chuckle, my thumb brushing her cheek. “I’m not looking for strong. Or independent. Or easy. Or someone with no history. I want a woman to challenge me. To remind me that I’m still alive. And you’re that woman. You’re what I want. Baggage or no baggage, I chose you the way you are and I don’t crave you any less because you’re still married to some prick.” I pause for a second to gauge her reaction but there’s no stopping me now. All these emotions just pour out. “I think I might be in love with you, Drew Kadence.” My palms are still on her cheeks, unmoving, unwilling to let go.

Her throat bobs, the movement so subtle in the dim light illuminating the gazebo, that it’s not hard to miss, but my entire being is so attuned to her that no small detail escapes me.

“Are you sure?” She grasps my wrists with both hands, her chestnut brown gaze holding mine, expecting an explanation.

“Are you asking me if I’m certain how I feel?” Smiling, I shuffle my feet to eliminate the taut inches of empty air between our bodies.

Drew nods, her shoulders suddenly tense. Soft light spilling into the gazebo through the openings between wooden posts falls over her form in small crisscross patterns, stark and eerie against her smooth glowing skin.

“I’ve never been more certain about anything in my entire life.” I bring my face to hers and kiss her mouth, my tongue sweeping across her lower lip and asking permission to explore further.

She releases my wrists and leans into me, her small palms wandering around my torso, my stomach, my chest, my neck.

Rebellious heat pulses through my veins.

“Remember you made me a promise, Zander?” she rasps, our breaths becoming one. “You said you weren’t going to treat me like a snowflake.”

“Yes, I said that.”

Drew pulls at my shirt and slides her fingers beneath the fabric, grazing them over my abs. Lower and lower until she reaches the waistband of my jeans and a low, shaky hiss leaves my throat. “So don’t. Don’t make me feel like I’m less of a woman.”

“I wouldn’t.” My hand meets the nape of her neck. “I’d never do that.”

Her touch sets my blood on fire. All it takes for my cock to riot is mere seconds when she rubs her hips against mine, then rises slightly to stand on her toes and murmurs with her mouth near my ear. “Then why don’t you ever fuck me like you truly want? Raw and hard?” The wind and the ocean tatter and slam into these words the moment they fly off her lips, but their intent doesn’t miss me.

A shiver snakes down my spine.

“You’re holding back every time we’re together.” Drew kisses the spot right above my collarbone, every inch of her frame pressing to me.

Something a lot like panic rattles my ribcage and squeezes my heart. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

“I’ve been hurt before, Zander.” She grabs my belt buckle to undo it, her voice rough, teasing, full of unspoken things, things we haven’t discussed yet, things I’m afraid to bring up. “Trust me, I know the difference between being hurt and wanting to be hurt.” She drags her soft mouth over the curve of my jaw and my cock nearly begs to be inside her, begs to slam into her. “And if we’re going to continue this relationship, I don’t want it to be halfway. I don’t want only one part of you. I want to see all your parts, everything that makes you who you are. No matter how wild or ugly.”

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Drew,” I confess, but red has already saturated the corners of my vision and the roar at the back of my head has grown too loud. This animal that resides in the cage I built many years ago has broken out and is gaining on me. Soon, it’ll be here. Soon, it’ll make me show my real face.

“Secrets are poisonous.” She lowers my zipper and slips her fingers into my briefs, erasing whatever little is left of my composure.

The velvet feel of her touch draws a shuddered moan out of me. My greedy hands skim over her thin skirt, plowing through the layers of gauzy fabric, seeking access, seeking contact.

As if reading my thoughts, she shoves me back toward the bench and I drop on the cushions, my shoulders hitting the wooden railing and it groans from the pressure of our writhing bodies as they crash.

“I don’t like to give up control to it, Drew,” I mumble deliriously, fractions of me still fighting against my own nature, but she’s relentless in her pursuit of this outrageously spontaneous moment of intimacy between us. Her knee slides onto the bench next to my thigh and she hoists herself up in the air to straddle me, her skirt catching, her hair unbound, her eyes needy.

It’s the side of her—adventurous, consequences-be-damned—that I hardly see and my own savagery smashes against it like salty wild against wet stone.

“Then we’ll do it together.” She nips at my ear, her breath feathering the skin on my neck as her hand knots in my hair, her other hand on my bicep.

I grab at her waist roughly and reposition her against my erection, drawing her so close, nothing but pure pressure remains between our burning forms, and the feel of this delicate weight on me is ecstasy.

Drew grinds herself over my cock, panting with primal need that matches my own untamed desire.

All reason leaves me.

I reach to where our bodies connect and push the skirt up to get access. With a feral grin she frees my cock, her lips ghosting mine as if she’s not sure whether she wants to kiss me or bite me.

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