Page 146 of Wasted Grace

Advik doesn’t kiss me again. He just stares—like I’munrealbeneath him. Like I’m a miracle he never thought he’d hold.

And I stare back.

Because somehow... I believe it too.

And for the first time in years, I let someone love me through the shaking. Through the memory. Through thefight.

FORTY-TWO

Advik

I find myself uncontrollably lost in my Greesha. Staring into her eyes that seem to capture my soul the way she always has. Years haven’t dulled that gaze—not even a little.

I bury myself into her neck, kissing the column of her throat.

But there’s a shift that happens. Her whole body clenched tight in a way that I’ve never experienced. I lean away and watch her eyes glaze over like she isn’t here anymore.

I freeze.

Watching pleasure slowly fading in her eyes. And I realize she’s not with me right now.

“It’s me,” I manage to whisper.

Even though she is looking at me, I notice how her gaze starts to slowly gleam with recognition.

“It’s me,” I croak again, smiling down at her beautiful face.

Then it’s just us. Stripped bare of our past and relishing in the present. Something I imagine weneed. Especially her.

My Greesha.

My warrior ghost.

I feel her hands softly claw at my back, pulling me closer. So I take her mouth again, kissing her with a frenzy I didn’t know I possessed.

I trace my lips over the jagged scar between her breasts. It probably holds a memory too painful that my eyes sting. But Iworship her new scars that mar her beautiful skin. Scars that send a devastating pang of sorrow through me, but I know she wears them with dignity.

I’m so unbelievably grateful that she doesn’t shy away when I kiss them, lick them. Learn them.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say reverently, my hands skimming a tattoo on her collarbone.

She has so many tattoos now. Several hidden ones. Some of them, I can’t understand the meaning of. While others clearly indicate her fierceness—resilience.

“I’m scarred, Vik,” she says with a hint of sadness.

I shake my head leaning back down to the crook of her neck. “You’re magnificent, my Greesha.”

A broken sob escapes her, that quickly turns into a moan when my thrusts becomes more frantic.

“Oh god, Vik,” she gasps. “More, more, more...”

I keep my pace the same, knowing she’s getting closer to her release that I desperately need. I want her to pulse around my cock, feel the satiated tremble in her thighs that are wrapped around me.

“Get there, baby,” I grunt. “Let me get you there.”

She nods absentmindedly against my head. I don’t stop my chants. The quiet whispers that echo the love I’ve been trying to hold in for so long.

Then she unravels, her whole frame quivering through that delicious moan. A soft whimper that ends with my name.