Page 56 of Surrender
“I missed you so much it hurt,” she whispered, arching against him, already breathless. she lifted her gaze to his, her hand reaching out to press against his chest—right over his heart.
“Because this, us… this is cinniúint.”
The word hit him like a blow to the ribs.
Their word. The one they’d whispered in bed, in the dark, when it felt like the universe had folded in around them.
He stared at her. All of it—her lies, her pain, her love—was right there in her eyes.
“You’re damn right it’s fate,” he growled, voice thick with heat and hunger.
He didn’t wait. His mouth crushed hers, claiming and consuming, as he swept her up in his arms. They didn’t just shed clothes—they tore them away. Buttons popped, wet fabric clung and was flung aside, a trail of urgency leading to the bedroom.
When he laid her back on the bed, her breath came in shallow pants, her skin already flushed. She trembled beneath his gaze, every inch of her aching for him.
His eyes devoured her. “You’re soaked,” he murmured, his voice low, rough. His hand slid up her bare thigh, inching higher, until his fingers brushed the heat between her legs. “Christ, Gwen…”
She arched into him, breath catching. “So are you,” she whispered, tugging him down by his belt with a wicked smile.
They undressed each other in a frenzy of hands and mouths, skin against skin. Her fingers fumbled at his pants, tugging them down as his lips found the soft underside of her breast, sucking until she whimpered. He groaned against her skin, the sound raw and hungry.
She reached for him, wrapped her hand around the thick length of him, and he swore under his breath, forehead pressed to hers.
“I need you,” she whispered.
“I’m right here,” he promised, voice shaking.
He entered her in one long, aching stroke that had both of them gasping. Her back arched, his name broke from her lips. He filled her completely, and still it wasn’t enough—they needed more. Everything. All at once.
It was wild, frenzied, their bodies colliding with the force of everything they'd held back. The lost time. The pain. The craving.
He drove into her with hard, punishing thrusts, his hands gripping her hips, her legs locked around him. The headboard hit the wall and the rain outside beat a frantic rhythm, but it was nothing compared to the one they made.
Then slowly, ever so slowly, he eased the pace, and it was like the air itself changed.
He cradled her face between his hands and kissed her like she was sacred. His hips rolled into hers, deeper now, slower, savoring every inch. He kissed her jaw, her eyelids, the corners of her mouth, her forehead, making up for every second they’d lost.
“I love you, Gwen,” he whispered against her lips, voice breaking.
Her tears spilled over. “I love you too, Keefe.”
Her body tightened around him, her breath catching. He whispered her name like a vow, again and again, until she broke apart—back arched, head thrown back, a cry ripping from her throat as she shattered beneath him.
He followed a heartbeat later with a ragged groan, burying himself deep, his face in her neck, holding her as if letting go would undo them both.
For a while, they didn’t speak. Just held each other. Breathing. Steadying.
The storm outside had quieted, but inside—between them—everything was still electric.
Keefe tucked a damp curl behind her ear, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “You’re not leaving again.”
“Not unless you carry me out the door.”
He grinned. “Then I guess I’m keeping you.”
Chapter 16
The sun streamed in through half-drawn curtains, soft and golden, casting lazy patterns across the floor. The rain had finally stopped, and outside the world looked washed clean—quiet and fresh and full of promise.
