Page 91 of Shattered By Grace

“Come closer.” His voice was dark, drenched in amusement. Commanding.

Victoria swallowed hard. Every logical thought told her to turn around, to walk away before this turned into something she couldn’t take back. But logic had no place here, not when Tristan was watching her like that. Not when heat pooled low in her belly at the thought of what might happen if she obeyed.

“Strip. Slowly.”

Something in his voice pulled her in. She moved before she could think, drawn forward like muscle memory.

She was only wearing his shirt and sweatpants, the rest of her clothes discarded after they were soaked from the shower he’d pulled her into last night to stop the panic attack. The memory sent a shiver down her spine as her fingers brushed the hem of his shirt, lifting it inch by inch. She pulled it off and let it fall to the ground.

Tristan let out a quiet hiss.

The heat in her belly ignited, spreading like wildfire. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her pants, she shimmied them down her hips, never breaking eye contact.

A flicker of something dark and primal flashed in Tristan’s eyes as he turned more toward her, water cascading over his sculpted body.

“Good girl.” His voice was thick, dripping with satisfaction. “Now touch yourself.”

Victoria stood frozen, watching Tristan, her body trembling with anticipation. The sound of the water rushing down around him mingled with the heavy beat of her heart. She could feel every word he spoke like an electric current zipping through her veins.

His voice came low and smooth, “Touch yourself for me, Don’t be shy.”

The command was both a challenge and a reassurance, and though her pulse quickened, she obeyed, slowly running her fingers over her body, her skin burning under her own touch. Every movement felt like a dance, her body responding to the quiet control in his voice, and Tristan’s eyes, dark and intense, never left her.

The tension between them was palpable, the unspoken connection thickening the air. Tristan’s breath was steady, but there was a subtle shift in his movements, the way his muscles flexed as he touched himself. His gaze stayed on her, making sure she felt the weight of his attention. He was giving her control, but at the same time, he was the one leading this moment.

Tristan’s eyes darkened, his breath shallow as he continued his own movements. “That’s it. Trust me and let go.”

“Tristan- I...” She was shaking with build up ready to be released.

“I know baby, let go.”

Her fingers trembled as she obeyed, moving in rhythm with him. Tristan’s gaze never wavered, the intensity in his eyes making her feel like he could see straight into her soul.

She let go of everything. The pressure in her belly, the heat building in her body, all of it came to a head in one sharp, breathtaking moment. A cry left her lips before she could stop it, her body shaking as she came undone, her fingers clutching the counter for support. Her mind went blank as pleasure surged through her, raw and overwhelming.

“Look at me.”

Tristan’s breath hitched, his own release following soon after. Victoria could see it in the way his muscles tightened, his body drawing taut as he gave into the same wave of pleasure she had. His eyes were still on her, watching her with a quiet intensity, making sure she felt every inch of what they had just shared.

For a moment, the world outside the bathroom didn’t exist. The steam, the heat, the rawness between them…it was just them. No touch. But the connection was undeniable, a bond built on trust, shared vulnerability, and the silent promise that they were in this together, no matter what.

Chapter Forty-One

Victoria stood there for a moment, her chest rising and falling, trying to steady her breath. The air around her felt heavier now, charged with an unspoken tension that hadn’t been there before. Tristan’s eyes were locked on hers, his gaze a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper that wasn’t entirely clear yet. She felt exposed, raw in a way she hadn’t expected, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… real.

Tristan turned off the water, and in the sudden quiet, their eyes locked, his dark gaze soft yet knowing. He reached for a towel, wrapping it securely around his waist, then pulled a fluffy robe from its hook. Stepping out of the massive shower enclosure, he walked in front of her and draped the robe over her shoulders.

Victoria’s breath hitched. She opened her mouth to speak, to articulate the avalanche of sensations still cascading through her. “That was…” she began, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I know,” Tristan cut her off with a quiet murmur, placing his forehead gently against hers.

His words sank into her, making her heart ache in a way that both comforted and confused her. She wanted to say more,but her throat tightened, unable to voice the whirl of emotions swirling inside her.

“Come on,” Tristan finally spoke, breaking the silence. He reached out, gently pulling her away from the counter, and led her toward the kitchen. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll make breakfast.”

The soft sound of their footsteps echoed in the hallway as they walked downstairs, the silence between them now comfortable. Dressed in another set of Tristan’s clothes, Victoria lifted the shirt to inhale deeply, clinging to its familiar scent a little longer. Her mind was still processing, still reeling, but his presence grounded her. She was no longer lost in the heat of the moment but in the quiet aftermath.

As they entered the kitchen, the morning light filtering through the windows felt almost surreal. Tristan opened the fridge and pulled out ingredients, maintaining a casual air as if nothing had changed. But Victoria knew something important had shifted.

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