Page 114 of The Heart We Guard
And nowhere more than between my legs and at my very core, where my clit aches and I sit on the edge of a magnificent tumble.
“More,” I cry, desperate to find the thing that will take me over.
“Like this?” Butcher asks, sliding his fist beneath the pillows to me, and giving me something solid to grind my clit against.
It alters the angle of my hips, shifts where his dick presses against my insides. And, as if he hits the miraculous on switch, I screw my eyes shut and open my mouth, unable to form the scream that bubbles in my chest.
“Fuck, can feel you coming around me,” Butcher says, his voice filled with need and wonder. “Ah…yes. Fuck. Milk me, Greer.”
He bites into the cords of my neck. Not so hard it hurts, but enough that I can feel it. I don’t have the control over my body to do anything other than I am. But it’s enough.
“Ah, just like…that…” His words are punctuated by grunts as his body loses the rhythm he had earlier. I can feel the pulsing of his cock deep inside me.
It’s deeply satisfying that he can find that kind of release in me.
His hips slow.
We breathe.
I feel his weight, still reassuringly on me. I can feel his breath tickle my skin and the way his chest rises and falls more slowly every second.
In the quiet that’s drenched us, I memorize it.
Letting myself exist in this impossible moment of safety.
Butcher kisses over the place he bit. The kisses are slow and reverent, like he didn’t just wreck me in the best possible way.
“You okay?” he asks me, his graveled voice soft.
I nod, and then, because I promised myself I was going to be honest with him, I say, “Yeah, I’m more than okay.”
He chuckles at that, and his cock slips ever so slightly from within me. Nolan shifts slightly, brushing my hair back. It’s something he does, I’ve noticed. “Let me go deal with this, but don’t move.”
I can’t help but sigh and shiver when he reaches between us and withdraws from within me.
His feet pad across the wooden floor, and eventually, I hear the toilet flush and the taps run in the sink. When he returns, I still haven’t moved.
“I think you broke me,” I say.
He’s at the side of the bed in a heartbeat. There’s a wet washcloth in his hand. “For real? I hurt you?”
I reach for his hand and try to sit up, but fail. “No. Sorry. I just mean that was really good.”
His relief is palpable. “Happy to be of service.” He dips the cloth between my legs and cleans up the mess we made. If you’d asked me how I’d feel about an action like this three months ago, I’d probably have felt embarrassed, but there’s a naturalness to it that feels comforting and caring.
Butcher helps me get to my knees to move, but then he sits back against the headboard and tugs me onto his lap.
“I should get my robe,” I say.
He runs his forefinger beneath the mesh of the bra, straightening the edge. “Nah. I like an armful of practically naked woman. Can I ask a question about the lingerie?”
“You didn’t like it?”
I hate the uncertainty in my voice, but Butcher vehemently shakes his head. “No. I loved it. But…you had lunch with the girls, and I know what a handful they can be. Nothing made you feel like youshoulddress up for me like that, did it? Because you don’t have to be anything other than you are for me, Greer.”
“I feel like, as my confidence in you grows daily, so does my confidence in myself. I saw the underwear and thought it would be something fun to explore.” I touch the pretty flowers on the bra. “I liked the effect it had on you, but it also made me feel…sexier…I guess.”
Butcher kisses me softly. “I loved it. I loved you in it. And I’m glad you got it.”
