Page 42 of The Shape of my Scar (The Unbroken #1)

T he guys were leaving.

One by one, they wrapped Faolan in brief hugs—each carrying his own history, his own version of how he imagined this first meeting with her would go.

She was a mirage they had held in their hearts for a long time, and it was hard to believe that this was real.

Lirian kissed the top of her head. Zel’s grip was surprisingly firm, his murmured, “Take care of him,” laced with concern.

But Maro…

Maro took his time.

His arms encircled her in a way that felt like he had waited for this moment for a long time.

Her head fit in the crook of his neck, and she could feel him smell her hair.

It was like being held by a huge teddy bear…

with muscles. His arms around her were possessive.

He didn’t say anything, just breathed her in.

Thane looked like a thunder cloud behind her; busted knuckles flexed at his sides.

Before anything could escalate, Faolan stepped back, her awkward smile aimed at no one in particular. If her eyes were a little bright, she blamed it on her allergies.

“See you guys soon. Before you take it outside again.”

Maro smirked and turned to leave. Zel rolled his eyes and Lirian winked on his way out.

The door clicked shut.

When she turned back, Thane was already gone.

Later that evening, Thane emerged from his office and asked, “Want a bath?”

She didn’t need his help anymore, but he seemed intent on offering it.

She had overheard him mumble something about missing her cast on the way back from the hospital.

She nodded, still tired. This time, he didn’t follow her in. He just waited outside with warm clothes, and when she was done, he tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead. And then he was gone.

After the buildup over the last few weeks, this was a letdown. It took a few minutes for Faolan to come to terms that he wasn’t coming back, especially since she heard a door close down the hallway.

Minutes or hours passed. Sleep was far away.

Faolan was used to sleeping on her own. Even when she had a brief hookup, she either left or made things clear right from the beginning that she couldn’t tolerate another person in her bed. She did not sleep over.

But Thane was not just anyone.

She had gotten used to sleeping with his arm holding her to him, breathing her in. Her nightmares and insomnia from before had become things from the past.

Tried to sleep.

Turned to the right.

Then to the left before her ribs reminded her that it wasn’t a good idea.

Back to the right.

The pillow was too hot. The sheets too cold. Her body too aware of the fact that it wasn’t curled around his.

She punched the offending pillow once, then flopped flat onto her back and glared at the ceiling.

“Stupid man,” she muttered. “With your ridiculous arms and your emotional restraint. Emotional restraint! More like the emotional maturity of a five-year-old.”

She rolled to her side again.

“Brooding bloody martyr. Fucking wanker.”

Flipped the pillow.

“Acts like a monk, then sleeps like the dead, but spoon-humps me for five nights straight, then ghosts me like he is Casper the friendly fucking ghost.”

She groaned into the blanket.

“Cockblocker. Grade-A, designer-grade cockblocker. Can’t even have a proper fantasy without you turning up with soup and puppy eyes.”

Another turn.

Another huff.

“Thinks he’s so noble. Probably writing a damn thesis in that guest room. Bet he’s got a spreadsheet titled Ways to Torture Faolan Without Technically Doing Anything Wrong .”

She rolled onto her stomach and groaned into the mattress, smacking her hand against it in frustration.

And still, under all the grumbling, the muttering, the seething want, her body ached for him. Grew wet for him. That low, ever-present curl of desire that had gone from an occasional flicker to a permanent, insistent presence since he’d started treating her like she was everything that mattered.

Damn him.

Damn his fucking restraint.

Damn his scent still clinging to her skin.

She kicked the covers off. Why should he sleep in peace? He was going to take care of this, then he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

She was done waiting.

If Thane thought he could continue this strange courtship from a safe distance, he was about to learn just how wrong he was.

She made a quick detour to the kitchen before bearding the lion in his den. He was in the guest room, shirtless, one arm slung over his head. There were bruises on his ribs from the fight and his left eye was almost completely swollen shut, but he wasn’t asleep.

She hesitated for a second before she tiptoed to the bed.

She pulled her shirt off first, then her shorts. His right eye opened to shine gold in the low light as she slipped under the blanket.

“Faolan,” he breathed like a prayer to the gods.

She straddled him slowly, hands braced on either side of his face, her eyes locked on his as she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his length. He gasped, already hard, his hands gripping her thighs.

Then she bent and kissed him carefully.

He tried to speak.

“Shh,” she whispered against his mouth.

And then she shifted to guide him to her opening.

She was already wet and ready for him. Her body accepted him with ease, and she rocked into him gently, slowly, her rhythm languid until she took him to the root. A desperate groan was wrenched from his throat as she slid down on him.

He held her hips like she was going to escape. This was the first time they were like this, face to face. Before, he always seemed to just bend her over the nearest horizontal surface and take her from behind. If her brain hadn’t turned into cotton fluff, she would have thought about why that was.

But he didn’t last.

He groaned, low and apologetic, his climax tearing through him too fast.

“Sorry,” he muttered into her neck, breath shaky. “It’s been too long.”

“I know,” she said, voice soft as he became aware of her pulsing around him. “Me, too.”

She’d already come, the first stretch of him inside her enough after so many weeks of need and tension and ache.

He pulled her close, holding her chest to his.

They stayed there like that for a while before it started to get uncomfortable.

Then he wordlessly turned her sidewise before getting out of bed.

He was back a minute later with a warm towel and proceeded to clean her up with careful hands despite her lazy protests.

“We made a mess,” he murmured with a half-smile.

She only nodded, watching him through half-closed eyes.

They padded together into the master bedroom. She picked up the packet of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel. He didn’t bother with clothes, just slid under the sheets behind her and curled around her like a second skin.

“Devious bastard,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Hm?” Thane’s voice was already groggy, lips brushing her nape.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

She lay there in the dark, his arm heavy around her waist, the steady thrum of his breath at her back.

And still, her mind sluggishly ticked on. After everything, he didn’t have to push. She got there on her own.

“Bloody tease,” she added under her breath, poking his thigh with her heel.

He chuckled sleepily. “What was that?”

“You know what.”

“I’m innocent.”

She scoffed and felt his lips curve against her shoulder. “You came to me.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late.”

She huffed, but he could feel her lips curve against the arm under her head. And when his arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, her grumbling melted into a sigh.

“Faolan,” he whispered, forehead resting against the back of her neck. “If I’d known…” His voice was wrecked. Weary. “All these wasted years.”

The words were torn from his soul.

She turned slightly in his arms. “Everything happens for a reason.”

Maybe that was true.

Maybe not.

But he kissed her shoulder and finally, finally , she slept.