Page 97 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

The fire crackles, shadows flickering across Everett’s cabin. I’m curled against him on the couch, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek. Outside, the rain begins pattering against the roof, soft at first, then heavier.

He glances at me, and something passes between us—unspoken, inevitable. We rise at the same time, slipping out onto the back deck, the air cool and damp. The rain falls harder, soaking us as he pulls me into his arms.

We dance. Slowly at first, laughter bubbling out of me as I cling to him. The rain pours harder, streaming down our faces, until he finally sweeps me back inside, both of us breathless.

“I need to get towels and dry you off.” He disappears down the hallway, and I stare at the way his shirt and jeans cling to his body.

Butterflies flap their wings in my stomach.

The man is sexy as hell, and not just because he’s still built like the football player he was.

It’s the way he takes care of me. The way he notices things about me that no one else notices.

The way he’s so in tune with me, it’s as though he can read my mind.

I’m trembling as I wait for him to return. Not from the cold, but from everything I’m feeling.

When he comes back, his hair dripping, a towel slung over one shoulder, I bite my lip, shifting from the heat coursing through my body. He mistakes my movements for being cold and wet, and immediately begins patting my face and hair before rubbing the cotton fabric over my arms.

He hunches down in front of me. “Lift your foot.”

Instead, I give him a coy smile, my hands moving to the hem of my shirt. I peel it over my head, dropping it to the floor.

He stills, the towel clutched in his hands. His voice is ragged. “Bri… what are you doing?”

My gaze locks with his, rain dripping from the ends of his dark hair. “I think it’s time.”

He stands. His throat works, his jaw tight. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

I slide my palms over his chest, feeling the hard ridges of muscle beneath his wet shirt. My voice shakes, but I don’t stop. “Heal me, Everett. Make me forget what... he did. I want to feel you. Only you.”

He cups my face, his big hands trembling. “Angel, listen to me. If you change your mind—if you want me to stop—I’ll stop. No hesitation.”

My eyes sting. My lips quiver. “I don’t want you to stop. I want you.”

His breath shudders out of him, relief and hunger twisting together. “Oh, angel. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that.” He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, reverently. “I love you, Brielle. More than anything. More than my own damn life.”

Tears spill down my cheeks, but they’re met with a smile. “I love you too. God, I love you so much.”

The words break us wide open. His mouth crashes against mine, desperate and consuming. He lays me down on the rug by the fire, his body caging mine, but his touch is gentle—worshipful—as he trails kisses along my jaw, my throat.

He strips me slowly, giving me time to stop him, to say no. But I don’t. Instead, I arch into his touch, every nerve lit with need.

When he pulls his own shirt over his head, I trace every line of muscle, every scar, branding him as mine. His jeans are gone next, and I see the evidence of his restraint straining against his boxers. My breath catches.

He lowers again, pressing his forehead to mine. “You sure?”

I cup his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

His hand slides between us, moving to my pussy. I gasp when he gently touches me, arching toward his hand.

“Jesus, angel. You’re fucking soaked.”

“Please,” I beg, not even sure what I’m pleading for. His hands, his lips, his cock. I want it all.

He slips two fingers inside me, and I whimper. His eyes never leave me, making sure I feel only pleasure, not fear.

“God, Everett. So good,” I murmur as he slides them in and out. He adds his thumb, rubbing over my clit, and I feel like I’m about to explode.

“Yes, angel. I only want to give you pleasure. Never pain.”

I smirk. “I think I’d take pain and pleasure from you.” I moan as his fingers move faster, bringing me closer to the edge.

He chuckles against me. “I’ll give you whatever you want.” His lips find mine, and our kiss is hot and messy.

My hand moves between us, stroking his cock as he fingers me. He breaks the kiss, his eyes burning with desire. Our ragged breaths fill the room, mixing with the crackling and popping of the fire.

“Everett... I can’t take any more. I need you,” I pant, releasing his dick, my hands on his shoulders.

He pulls his fingers from me and shifts, his eyes boring into mine. “Are you sure, angel?”

I nod vigorously. “I’ve never been more sure.”

He lines the head up with my entrance, and when he slides inside me, I gasp—half from fear, half from the sheer rightness of it. My body trembles, but his hand laces with mine, anchoring me.

“Breathe, angel,” he whispers. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

The pain fades, replaced with a fullness that steals my breath. And then he moves. Slowly at first, carefully, but the desperation builds. Every thrust is a vow, every kiss a promise that I’m his.

“Mine,” he groans against my neck. “All mine.”

“Yes,” I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Yours. Always.”

The fire blazes beside us, and I swear, our passion feeds the flames that grow higher, wilder. The rain pounds the windows, thrashing in time with our desperate, frantic need. Our bodies move in sync, like we’ve been waiting our whole lives for this.

When I finally shatter, it’s with his name on my lips and love burning in my chest.

I collapse against him, trembling as he holds me like I’m something sacred. His lips press to my temple as he murmurs soothing words I can barely process through the haze.

After a while, he eases out of me with care, brushing a kiss to my shoulder. “Stay here, angel. Let me take care of you.”

I nod, dazed and boneless, watching him disappear down the hall. He returns with a damp cloth, so gentle as he cleans me, reverent even now. No shame. No fear. Only love.

When he’s done, he pulls a blanket from the back of the couch and tucks it around us. I curl into his side, my ear pressed to his chest, our hearts and breath falling in sync. His hand strokes through my hair, steady and soothing.

“I didn’t know I could love anyone as much as I love you,” he whispers into the quiet, his words like the crackle of fire, warming my heart.

My breath hitches. I lift my head, meeting those warm chocolate eyes, burning me with the love shining from them. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. And I’ll never love anyone but you.”

He interlaces his fingers with mine, squeezing tightly. “For an eternity.”

My smile trembles, but it’s real as I echo, “For an eternity.”

The fire crackles, rain drums steady against the roof, and in his arms, I know with bone-deep certainty, I’ll never be broken again. Not when he’s holding me. Not when he’s mine.