Page 50 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)

Chapter Forty

V ictoria swallowed, her heart picking up speed as his words hit her in a way she hadn’t expected. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the invitation in his tone, the way his body leaned just slightly toward hers, as though he was waiting for her answer.

For a second, she couldn’t think of anything but the tension that lingered between them.

She didn’t know whether to be cautious or to give in, to stay where she was or to follow him.

But as the storm outside calmed, something inside her shifted.

She realized that whatever this was between them wasn’t something she’d be able to ignore for much longer.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up, and she found herself nodding. “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

Tristan didn’t say a word as he led her up the stairs. Victoria’s heart pounded, every step amplifying the uncertainty twisting inside her. The air between them felt heavier than before, thick with unspoken words and something she wasn’t ready to name.

He walked her across the room, moving beyond his own side to the space near the window, away from the entrance. Confused, she glanced up at him, searching for an answer in the sharp angles of his face, but his expression gave nothing away.

Tristan pulled back the covers and gestured for her to get in.

She hesitated. “Tristan?—”

“Just sleeping tonight, love.” His voice was softer than she expected, quieter.

Still unsure, Victoria slid under the covers, watching as he pulled them over her, tucking her in with a care that made her chest ache. He smoothed a hand over her hair before bending down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

As he moved around to the other side of the bed, she found herself wondering… how many people get to see this side of Tristan?

Then he pulled back the covers and stripped down to his boxers.

Fuck. He expects me to sleep next to him like that? Her fingers curled against the sheets, wishing she had something sexier on.

At some point in the night, the weight of him shifting the mattress pulled her from the depths of sleep.

She felt his warmth pressing against her back and the way he fit himself around her.

One arm slid beneath her pillow, the other settled against her stomach, fingers splayed as he pulled her closer.

Heat radiated through the thin fabric of her shirt, sinking into her skin, sending a slow, liquid awareness through her veins.

His breath brushed the shell of her ear, warm and steady, before he pressed a lingering kiss to the exposed skin on her neck .She shivered, and he pulled her closer, mistaking it for cold. But warmth had nothing to do with it.

This was something else.

Something far more dangerous.

It was him.

It was this quiet, unguarded moment.

Damn.

Victoria swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn’t dare move, afraid that even the smallest shift might break whatever fragile thing this was.

But Tristan didn’t say a word.

And neither did she.

The sound of running water pulled Victoria from the depths of sleep. She blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as soft morning light filtered through the large window. From the bed, all she could see was trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze.

Rolling over, her lips curled into a small smile at the sight of the unmade bed where Tristan had been.

I could get used to this.

Get real. After today when she told him everything, he’d walk right out of her life faster than he could say her name.

She buried her face in the pillow and let out a muffled groan, the frustration bubbling up inside her. She flipped onto her back, staring at the ceiling as the scent of cedar and clean spice reached her, trying to will away the anxiety twisting in her gut. His body wash.

She should stay right where she was. But then she noticed the bathroom door cracked open.

Throwing the covers off, she stood and stretched, sleep still clinging to her limbs. She moved toward the large window, her gaze drifting over the lush greenery beyond, but it wasn’t enough to distract her.

Silently, she stepped toward the bathroom, intending to walk straight in…until she saw him.

Tristan’s massive back was to her, muscles shifting beneath his skin as he ran his hands over his body, water gliding down the ridges of his toned frame.

She froze, mesmerized.

Oh, holy fuck.

Tristan tilted his head back, running his hands through his hair as the water cascaded over him. Rinsing away the suds, his fingers trailed down his body, unhurried.

I didn’t think washing yourself could be sexy.

Her breath hitched—right before her head collided with the door.

Shit.

Victoria’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the doorframe. She should look away, leave before she got caught, but she couldn’t.

Tristan stood beneath the stream of hot water, his head tilted back, eyes closed, droplets sliding over every sculpted plane of his body. The slow, deliberate way his hands moved over himself was intoxicating. It was a show, a performance meant for her.

Oh. My. God.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as his fingers trailed lower, wrapping around himself with a lazy confidence that sent fire licking up her spine.

He knew she was watching, his smirk was proof of that, but instead of stopping, he made sure she saw everything.

Every slow, measured stroke. Every flex of muscle.

Every quiet exhale that barely reached over the sound of the shower.

Heat coiled low in her stomach, her thighs clenching on instinct as she bit her lip hard enough to sting.

His hand tightened, his rhythm shifting ever so slightly. A deep, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest, and he finally cracked one eye open…straight at her.

Shit.

Her stomach dropped. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to move, to run, but she couldn’t. Not when he held her in place with nothing but a look.

Tristan’s movements slowed, teasing. His smirk deepened.

“Enjoying the show?” His voice horse with pleasure.

Her breath left her in a rush. She slapped a hand over her mouth, unsure whether she wanted to laugh in embarrassment or melt into the floor.

“I—”

“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.