Chapter Eight

Mina

I 'm not entirely sure what I'm doing as I drag Grayson through the front door, but my heart is beating a million miles a minute, and I need to see him. I need to know exactly what he's been through. Until I see it for myself, I can't process it. And if I can't process it, I can't move forward. I feel stuck right now, the past clinging to me like vines.

I desperately want to break free of it. But it's choking me. I heard every word he said. I felt it. And I believe him. But I need to see it. Because he lived it. I need that part of his life to be real to me in a way it isn't right now. To do that, I have to see it, all of it.

Maybe that doesn't make sense. I don't know. But it's how I feel as I drag him straight up the stairs, not stopping to think. Not stopping for anything. I burst into my room, slamming the door back against the wall.

"Mina, baby…"

I spin on him, my eyes wild as they tangle with his. "Please, Grayson," I whisper, my voice ragged, pleading. "I can't…I don't…" I inhale a shaking breath. "I have to see you."

He searches my face, looking for something. An explanation? The truth? I don't know. But whatever he finds has him nodding. He kicks off his shoes, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt. "I want you to remember something for me," he murmurs, his voice a soft, familiar rumble.

I bob my head in a nod, my hands tangled together in front of me.

"They don't hurt. Not anymore." He swallows hard. "Just…remember that, okay?"

Oh, God.

I nod, the motion jerky.

He tugs his shirt up his body, yanking it off in one fluid move.

I stare at him for a long moment, just…stare. I don't even know where to look first. I remember every ridge, every muscle. Even after all this time, I never forgot the way his abdomen always contracted when I ran my fingernails down it. I never forgot how hard his body was or how freaking perfect. He was always my fortress, so much bigger than he had any right to be. And yet, so damn gentle with me. Familiar tattoos still litter his skin. I've traced every damn one with my lips, my fingers…the tip of my tongue.

But the edges are marred now. Distorted. Masses of scar tissue and jagged, healed wounds cut across them in a dozen different places. They're bad. So much worse than I can wrap my mind around.

He turns slowly, letting me see his back.

A sob rips from my lips, my knees shaking. Healed whiplashes score his back from the top of his shoulders all the way down. Some are deep, so damn deep there was no way for the flesh to heal properly. It's pitted and grooved, as irreparably damaged as the skin on the backs of his hands.

"Grayson," I whisper, moving toward him without even giving my feet the command. I lift a shaking hand, tracing along the deepest of the lashes.

His body shakes, his breath erupting from his lungs in a strangled groan. He's so tense, so rigid.

I lean up, placing my lips against the bottom edge of the scar, trying to breathe peace into him. He deserves it. God, he deserves so much more than that. All this time, he's lived with this. He endured all of this pain, all of this torment, and somehow, he still found his way back to me. He never stopped trying.

This man…loves me. He's always loved me.

And I never stopped loving him. Even when I was terrified I shouldn't. Even when I wanted to hate him because I thought he was making it all up, my heart was his. It'll always be his.

I don't know what comes next for us. I don't know how we navigate everything we've been through and everything still in front of us. But everything in me surges toward him, screaming for him.

He feels it, too. I know he does because as soon as he feels my lips against his skin, he groans, spinning to face me.

"You can't," he rasps, his expression savage. His breath comes in pants as he clenches and unclenches his hands. "Christ, Mina. You can't put your mouth on me and expect me to behave."

"Who says you have to behave?" I whisper, staring up at him.

"Me. I say." He swallows, looking like he regrets the bonds he's leashed himself in. "I broke you yesterday, baby. You needed me to tell you no, and I fucking didn't. Until you know how you feel, I can't put you through that again. I can't be the reason for that look on your face ever again."

My heart clenches, guilt crashing through me. God, I've messed up so much with him. All he's done since he came back is try to show me how he feels, and I've been so damn messed up that I've got him all messed up, too. It isn't right. It isn't fair. He deserves better. We both do.

"Grayson, I…"

He reaches out, placing his palm against my cheek. "It's okay, sweetheart," he croons, his expression softening. "I'm not going to push you. I've been without you for six years. I meant it when I told you that I'd wait to rest of my goddamn life if that's what it takes. I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't want you to wait!" I cry, tears blurring my vision. "I was an idiot yesterday. I've been so damn afraid since you came back because…because the thought of loving you and losing you again is terrifying. I've barely been surviving it, Grayson. You weren't here, and every day was hell. When I saw you on that stage, it was like every prayer I had was answered. But all I could think was that it wasn't real. And that if it was real, it meant you could be ripped away from me again." My bottom lip quivers. "It m-meant I l-let them take you from me."

"Fuck," he growls, yanking me into his arms.

I collide with the hard wall of his chest, clinging. "Why did I let them take you?" I whimper against his skin. "I felt you, Grayson. The whole damn time, I felt you. But I still let my dad talk me into declaring you dead."

"You didn't know," he breathes, burying his hands in my hair to press his forehead to mine. " You didn't know ."

"I should have," I whisper, my throat raw.

"And I should have known you were real, that you were waiting for me," he whispers back. "We can't go back and redo it, sweetheart. We've already lost six fucking years. Our daughter has lost six years. I'm not ready to give up another day. Another minute. We've got to let it go. It's the only way forward."

He's right. I know he's right.

"Then help me," I plead quietly. "I need your skin on my skin. I need your hands on my body. Put us back together, Grayson. Please."

He exhales a shuddering breath, hesitating. My heart clenches, threatening to crack in half. He's going to deny me. He still doesn't understand how much I need this. How much I believe him. How desperately I've always loved him. I've fucked up so badly that he thinks I'll regret it. That I don't know what I wa—

"Fuck," he groans, his mouth crashing down on mine as he yanks me flush against his trembling body.

I sob in relief, in ecstasy, kissing him back with everything I have. It's intense hunger, two starving souls finding their way back to one another after a lifetime apart. We nip and bite and fall into one another, pressing closer, closer…until every inch of space between us is demolished and every breath I take is full of him, and his are full of me.

And it's still not enough.

I need him all over me, inside me. Until I can't remember what it feels like to be without him. I've been so empty, so lonely for so damn long. He's the only one who can fix it. He's always been the only one capable of feeding this hunger. I belong to him, body and soul. I have from the very first day I saw him standing in the living room, laughing with my dad. I knew then and there that he was my future.

He's still my future. Somehow, despite everything, he's here now. My prayers were answered.

"Need to see you," he rumbles, his hand slipping beneath my shirt. "Every goddamn inch, baby. I have to touch you. Kiss you. Christ, I need to feel you all over me."

"Then touch me," I whisper. "Kiss me. You can have whatever you want. I'm yours, Grayson."

His minty breath washes across my face as he exhales before pulling back. His eyes lock with mine as he fists his hands into the sides of my shirt, slowly tugging it up my body. I shiver as his knuckles graze my sides.

We lose eye contact momentarily as he lifts it over my head. It slithers to the floor at my feet as his eyes come back to mine. The heat banked in them steals my breath.

I reach behind me, unhooking my bra.

Like my shirt, it lands at our feet.

Still, he keeps his eyes on my face, his gaze not deviating.

"Look at me, Grayson. Touch me."

"Not yet. Not until you're naked, baby." He swallows. "I'm greedy like that, you know. I want every inch of you at once."

I smile, my heart fluttering. He's always been greedy like that. Even when we were trying to hide from my dad, he'd strip me bare before he fucked me. He needed to see every inch of me, needed to worship every part of me. He didn't want anything standing between the two of us. He just wanted me.

I kick my heels off, hooking my fingers into the waistband of my skirt. And then I pause, cocking my head to the side. "Do I get to see all of you too?"

"Eventually." His eyes practically glow. "But if I take these jeans off right now, I'll be coming all over those pretty little tits as soon as I see them, Mina. You know I will because you'll have my cock in your hand as soon as you can make it happen."

My lips tip up at the corners. "Remember that, do you?"

"Oh, I've remembered a helluva lot since I saw you standing in the front row," he practically purrs. "Now, why don't you slip that little skirt off and let me see how well I remembered it, baby?"

"Okay, just…Grayson?" I swallow nervously. "My body isn't what you remember. It changed after…well…after everything." I shrug helplessly. "Pregnancy does that, I guess."

"You're even more beautiful now than you were back then, Mina. You carried our daughter. You nourished her. You kept her alive and safe, even when your world was falling apart." His expression is soft, full of awe as he holds my gaze. "You think I'll ever be able to look at you and not want to worship at your feet for what you did for our little girl? Hell no, sweetheart. Every goddamn spot you view as an imperfection is one more spot I'm going to cherish."

"Grayson," I whisper, my eyes watery again.

"Lose the skirt, Mina. Let me see. Let me worship."

I exhale a shaking breath and tug my skirt and panties down, letting them pool at my feet.

He keeps his eyes locked with mine for a heartbeat before slowly dragging his gaze down my body. I fight the urge to fidget beneath his careful attention, letting him have this moment like he let me have mine. He sucks in a sharp breath when his eyes land on my breasts, his pupil flaring.

"Fuck," he groans. "They're bigger."

"Blame your daughter."

"You mean thank her every day for the rest of my life? Noted," he says, making me smile.

His gaze drifts down again, over my stomach. I fight the urge to cover the stretch marks that are now a permanent part of me. I'm not ashamed of them, not exactly. I just…I feel raw and exposed. Jittery. No one has ever looked at me and saw me the way he does. No one has ever wanted to see me the way he does.

"I can't wait to kiss every one of those," he whispers. "It's as close as I'll ever get to worshipping your pregnant body, baby."

I cover my mouth, choking on a sob.

His gaze slides down over my mound, a groan rumbling from his lips. "Still so fucking perfect," he rasps. "You've always had the prettiest little pussy, Mina. I can still remember exactly how it tastes. How fucking tight it grips my cock. How wet it gets when I'm fucking you with my tongue." His eyes flash to mine, stormy gray. "Tell me I can have it again."

"Y-yes," I whisper. "Please, Grayson."

He's on me before the words even leave my lips, dragging me into his arms. I cry out, practically sobbing as he hauls me up against his chest, his hands burning like fire against my bare skin. His lips come down on mine as he storms toward the bed, his tongue already wreaking havoc on my senses.

I sink onto the bed beneath him, his weight bearing me down as he crawls over me. His bare chest against mine is the most exquisite sensation. It's been so long. So damn long.

I sob against his lips, clinging to his shoulders. I don't want to let him go. I want to stay right here like this, with his weight pinning me to the bed and his scent surrounding me. This is where I'm supposed to be. This is my happy place.

Except, he isn't satisfied yet. He breaks from my lips, kissing a trail down my throat. He nips and bites, refreshing the mark he left there yesterday.

I dig my nails into his upper arms, my back bowing from the bed when I feel what he's doing. I want it. Need it. God, I hope it never fades.

He sucks one hard nipple into his mouth, biting down gently. Sparks of intense pleasure shoot through my body as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud before releasing it with a wet pop.

He lavishes the other breast with the same intense devotion until I'm writhing beneath him, my hands fisting in his long hair.

"Grayson," I gasp, tossing my head restlessly against the pillow. "Please, I need…"

"I know what you need, baby," he rumbles against my skin. "I'm going to give it to you."

I whimper in response to his promise…and again when he kisses a fiery trail down my body, his lips dragging over my quivering flesh.

When he reaches my stomach, he pauses, his breath hot against my skin. His eyes lock with mine. My breath stalls in my chest at the expression on his face. It's so damn fierce, so damn devoted.

Slowly, reverently, he dips his head, placing a tender kiss against the deepest stretchmark on my stomach. I bite my lip, fighting a sob.

He wrecks me as he seeks out and kisses every single mark, his devotion and gratitude spilling across my skin as hot tears leak from his eyes. Tears prick my eyes, too, the raw emotion of what he's doing, the pure love and gratitude pouring from him, stealing my breath.

His hand slips between my thighs as he continues his sensual pilgrimage, familiarizing himself with every change pregnancy wrought on my body. His talented fingers find my wet, aching sex. I moan brokenly, arching into his touch when he circles my clit, sending pleasure coiling through me.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he groans appreciatively, teasing my entrance with two fingers. "I can feel how much you want this, Mina. How desperate you are for me."

"Yes," I whimper, lifting my hips into his touch. "I've missed you so much. Missed this. Please, Grayson…"

This isn't like it was yesterday. This isn't desperation and pain. This is healing. This is us…how we used to be. Back when he'd torment me with pleasure for hours, just because he could. Just because I was his and he was mine and we could do whatever the hell we wanted. I missed this .

He shoulders my legs further apart, making room for himself between them. I feel the scrape of his stubble against my inner thighs as he places worshipful kisses there, too. It's like he can't stop himself. Now that I'm right here in front of him again, he has to touch me everywhere, taste me everywhere.

The first swipe of his tongue through my folds is too much bliss for one woman to contain. I'm not supposed to feel like this. It's not supposed to be this damn good. And yet…it is.

"Grayson!" I sob, my back bowing off the bed.

He moans against me like he's just tasted heaven itself. "Fuck, baby. You're even sweeter than I remembered. So goddamn perfect."

And then he's lost in me, devouring me with an intensity that steals my breath. He's everywhere—sucking on my clit, thrusting deep inside to stroke all those places that make me see stars, sliding through my folds to lick up every drop I spill for him.

He's a man possessed, driven by the unrelenting need to reclaim every part of me. The way he makes love to me is…beautiful. Transcendent. Every flick of his tongue, each press of his lips, is an act of worship. He showers me with devotion, pouring every ounce of his love and longing into pleasuring me.

He leaves me mindless, reduced to gasps and broken cries of his name. And still, he doesn't stop. The pleasure goes on and on, an endless sea of ecstasy.

Pressure builds until I'm dangling on the edge of a knife, my body taut and trembling, desperate to plunge over the side into forever. Into that perfect, peaceful place only he's ever been able to take me.

He flicks his gaze up, his eyes meeting mine.

"I love you forever, Mina."

His tongue swirls around my clit…and I fall, screaming, into oblivion. Into him. Into us. Always, into us.