Page 65 of Mended Fences

Tears pricked at my eyes.

“I know,” I whispered. I’d always known. But hearing him say it out loud... it shattered something I didn’t know I was still holding together. “I documented everything. Every time. It’s all there with the photos of the bruises, the broken fingers, everything.”

“Jesus Christ.” Chase rolled off me, pulling me into his arms so I was cradled against his chest. His heart hammered under my ear, fury radiating off him in waves. “Why didn’t you tell me? That day at the hotel...”

“Because I needed that day to be mine.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “With you, I felt... safe. In control. Like I was choosing something for myself for the first time in years. I didn’t want him to taint that, too.”

His arms tightened around me, and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. For a long moment, we just lay there on the hard floor, his flannel bunched beneath us, my sweater forgotten somewhere nearby.

“I should have killed him that day I saw the bruises on yourribs.” His voice was rough, dangerous. “Should have gone straight to Detroit and ended him.”

“And then what?” I pushed up on one elbow to look at him. “You’d be in prison. No. I needed to do this my way. On my terms.”

Something shifted in his eyes—pride, maybe, or understanding. His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing away tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” The anger was still there in his voice, but something softer too. “Getting yourself out. Documenting everything. Planning it all.”

I leaned into his touch. “I had help. Tessa...”

“Yeah, but you did the hard part.” His other hand traced patterns on my bare back, gentle where Peter had only ever been harsh. “You survived. You got out. And now you’re here.”

“Now I’m here,” I echoed softly, letting my head rest on his chest again. His heartbeat had steadied, though I could still feel tension in his muscles. “With you.”

For several long moments, we just breathed together, his hands tracing soothing patterns on my back. Then his fingers slid into my hair, gently tilting my face up to his.

“Let me make you feel good, Sweetness.” His voice was soft, reverent. “Let me show you how it should be. No expectations, no pressure. Just you.”

The tenderness in his eyes made my throat tight. This was nothing like Peter’s demanding hands, his cruel words. This was... safe. Wanted.

“Yes,” I whispered, drawing him down for a kiss.

His mouth was gentle against mine, patient, like we had all the time in the world. When his hands slid lower, ghosting overmy ribs, my stomach, the waistband of my jeans, every touch felt like worship.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured against my neck as he pulled my jeans off. “Any time.”

Instead of answering, I arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers found just the right spot, rubbing slow circles against my clit.

His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, building a delicious tension low in my belly. Each stroke sent sparks of pleasure through me. Chase watched my face intently, gauging my reactions. When I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, his eyes darkened. He maintained that same torturous rhythm until I was writhing beneath him.

“Please,” I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for.

“Tell me what you need, Sweetness.” His voice was rough with desire.

“More.” I arched into his touch. “Faster.”

He obliged, increasing the pressure and speed of his fingers. My hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built. His mouth found my neck, trailing hot kisses down to my collarbone.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my skin. “Let go for me, Elena. I’ve got you.”

Safe. I’m safe here.The thought floated through my pleasure-hazed mind as Chase’s talented fingers pushed me closer to the edge. This wasn’t about power or control. This was about trust.

“Chase...” His name came out as a broken moan as the tension coiled tighter.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded softly. “Look at me.”

I forced my eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The raw emotion I saw there—desire, yes, but also something deeper, something that made my chest ache—pushed me over the edge.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me as Chase held me close, whispering praise against my skin. When I finally came down, trembling and gasping, he pressed a gentle kiss to my temple.