Page 57 of Shattered By Grace

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Victoria lay sprawled across the sheets, her head resting on Tristan’s shoulder. Every nerve in her body buzzed, and the sound of his steady breathing was a low hum of satisfaction.

What did I just do and why does it feel so devastatingly right?

Her fingers absently traced the faint marks his hands had left on her hips, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic dance of pleasure and consequence. She had crossed a line, one she wasn’t sure she could step back from.

The sudden trill of her phone shattered the silence, jolting her out of the haze. Heart pounding, she fumbled blindly for it on the nightstand, her fingers finally curling around the device.

Before she could answer, Tristan’s deep, lazy voice rumbled beside her. “If that isn’t someone important,” he said, his lips quirking into a sinful smirk as his fingers grazed her bare shoulder, “tell them to call back later because I’m not done worshiping you.”

She glared at him, biting back a smile as she pressed the phone to her ear. Clearing her throat, she tried to inject somesemblance of professionalism into her voice. “This is Midwife Scarlett,” she said, but the breathiness betrayed her, still laced with the remnants of the intensity they’d just shared.

As she listened, her expression shifted, her features sharpening into focus. Whatever was on the other end of the call, it was pulling her back to the real world.

And she wasn’t sure she was ready to leave this one just yet.

Tristan clearly wasn’t ready either. His fingers trailed lazy patterns along her bare spine, his touch a whisper of heat that sent shivers down her skin. When she didn’t immediately respond to the voice on the other end, he leaned in, his lips brushing just beneath her ear. “You’re still here with me, love,” he murmured, his voice low and sinful.

She swallowed hard, willing herself to concentrate.

But Tristan had other plans. His hand slid beneath the sheets, tracing featherlight touches down her thigh, his movements slow, teasing, completely unbothered by the fact that she was on an active call. His mouth followed suit, trailing kisses down her shoulder, his teeth grazing just enough to make her breath hitch.

Her grip tightened on the phone.

“I—uh,” she stammered, struggling to focus as Tristan’s hand continued its slow descent.

“Yes, keep monitoring her vitals closely,” she said, forcing steel into her voice even as her breath hitched. “If there’s any change in her blood pressure or if contractions become irregular, call me immediately. Make sure she stays hydrated and watch for signs of distress. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The moment the call ended, she set the phone aside, exhaling sharply as she tried to shake off the lingering haze of desire.

Ohh fuck. This is going to destroy me

But Tristan wasn’t about to let her go so easily.

Before she could fully recover, he pulled her against him, his arm wrapping around her waist with a possessive strength. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured, “Your beauty is dangerous…” His lips brushed her skin, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. “But your intelligence? That’s lethal.”

His words were a slow caress, filled with a mix of awe and desire. The way he said them—low, rough, reverent—made her pulse race all over again.

“As much as I’d love to stay here with you all night and day, wrapped up in this bubble,” she murmured, her voice tinged with reluctance, “I have to go to the hospital.”

She rolled off the bed, stretching her well-sexed body, every muscle deliciously sore, her skin still tingling from his touch. Tristan’s eyes never left her, a predatory intensity flickering in his gaze as he watched her move.

“Like what you see?” she teased, throwing a sultry smile over her shoulder, giving her hips a playful sway, letting the curve of her ass catch the light just right as she strutted towards the bathroom.

Tristan’s lips curled into a slow, wicked grin. “Every damn inch,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said with a wink, disappearing behind the bathroom door. “Be out in a few minutes.”

Steam curled around Victoria as she stood under the hot water, her body still humming from everything that happened between them. But when the shower door slid open, and she felt Tristan’s presence behind her, a different kind of heat filled the space.

She turned just as he stepped in, the water trailing over his sharp features, his dark hair slicked back. But it wasn’t the sight of him that stole her breath, it was the look in his eyes. Stripped of arrogance, stripped of control. Just… him.

He reached for her, fingers brushing over her damp skin like he was memorizing her all over again, but his touch held none of the urgency from before. This was different.

“Tristan—” she started, but he shook his head.

“Shhh.” Tristan pressed a finger against her lips, his touch both commanding and tender. Slowly, he guided her back until the cold tile met her skin, a sharp contrast to the heat between them.