Page 108 of Shattered By Grace

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the delicate skin of her cheek between each long stretch of road. Soft. Teasing.

A shiver raked through her, but it had nothing to do with the cold.

His voice filtered through to her, barely audible over the roar of the engine but cutting through her like a blade.

“I should be focusing on the road, but all I can think about is how good you’d feel losing yourself under me.” His fingers flexed on her waist, tightening like he already knows she’s his to ruin. “And trust me, love, I plan to take my time proving it to you.”

Her breath stuttered, her grip on his jacket tightening.

And Tristan? He just smirked, pressing the throttle like he’s not setting her whole world on fire.

By the time they reached the lookout, Victoria was barely holding onto control. The bike slowed to a stop, the night stretching out around them, vast and quiet, the city lights flickering far below.

Tristan kicked the stand down, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The tension between them was thick, electric.

She wasn’t waiting anymore. She took off the helmet and crashed her lips against his, desperate and unrestrained, letting all her longing spill into the kiss.

Tristan groaned, his grip tightening on her thighs as he pulled her closer, pressing her against him. And when she finally broke away, breathless, he looked at her with dark and dangerous eyes.

"Do that again," he warned, voice thick with restraint, "and I'll take you right here and now, over my bike."

Victoria trailed a slow finger down his chest. Tempting. Too tempting.

Her lips parted like she might say something else, but she just smirked.

"Bet?"

Chapter Forty-Eight

The rain was unexpected, soaking them both, but neither cared. Tristan yanked her closer, one hand gripped her hip, the other threaded through her hair as he claimed her mouth with a bruising kiss. Victoria’s body pressed against his, the heat between them sizzled against the cold rain, every drop only fueling the fire.

Victoria couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She only felt him. His lips were everywhere. Demanding, yet devastatingly gentle. When he tugged her hair, pulling her closer, her heart slammed against her ribs. She matched his hunger, her hands winding around his neck as she kissed him back with everything she had.

He moved them both, the force of his kiss pushing her back against the wet pavement, but neither of them broke away. Not until they were both breathless, gasping for air.

Tristan pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling, the world around them reduced to just the sound of their ragged breathing and the rain pouring down. His hand stayed in her hair, fingers threading through it as if to remind her he’s not going anywhere.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice rough, a mix of relief and raw need. The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken emotions.

Victoria’s lips curled into a smile as she placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. She leaned in again, just enough to brush her lips against his, a soft promise of more to come.

"Come on," he murmured, voice thick with something she can’t quite place. "I want to show you something."

She blinked, breath still uneven from the kiss, before letting him pull her along. The rain was relentless, sliding down their skin as they wove down a barely-there path, her heart still pounding from more than just the cold. The ground was slick beneath their feet, the rain soaking through their clothes, but she didn’t care. Not when his fingers tightened around hers like he needed her close.

The path wound behind an old, weathered building, where a small greenhouse stood, its glass fogged over from the temperature shift. A soft glow twinkled inside, casting warm, golden light through the glass.

Victoria glanced at him, suspicion burning in her gaze. “Tristan…”

But he just smirked, shoving the door open and guiding her inside.

Inside, the scent of earth and rain-kissed petals wrapped around her. It’s small but beautiful, rows of flowers blooming despite the chill outside. The space was cozy and intimate.

At the center, a simple table was set up. Nothing extravagant, just a cloth-draped surface with a single candle flickering against the storm’s shadows.

Victoria’s lips parted slightly. “You set this up?”

Tristan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he left her standing in the doorway of the greenhouse, the rain pouringdown around her as she watched him. Confusion streaks across her face as he dashed back out into the storm, disappearing into the downpour.

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