I woke sometime in the middle of the night with the nagging feeling that something was off.

I shifted beneath the blanket and felt a slight dip in the mattress beside me. 

I slowly opened my eyes and blinked into the darkness. A dark shape sat at the edge of my bed. 

At first, I couldn’t understand what I was looking at, but as my eyes adjusted and the haze of sleep dissipated, I realized it was Graham. 

He was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning over the edge of my mattress, his head resting on his folded arms.

A shaft of moonlight spilled through the window, falling over him. It caught in his blonde hair, turning the strands silver and softening the harder edges of his features. For a moment, he looked almost ethereal.

His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even.

Just how long had he been here?

I propped myself up on my elbow and reached out, running my fingers through his hair.

He stirred beneath my touch, his eyes slowly opening. He lifted his head from his arms and looked at me. There was a raw vulnerability in his expression I wasn’t used to seeing. 

I lifted the edge of my blanket and scooted to the side, making room for him. 

Graham slipped beneath the covers, wrapped an arm around me, and pulled me into him. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. 

“Graham,” I said softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Graham stayed silent, but his fingers tensed around my arm. For a moment, I wasn’t sure he’d answer.

He shifted onto his side, turning me with him so we were facing each other. He brushed his fingers over my cheek. 

“I needed to make sure you were really here. That you were safe.”

“I’m here,” I said, covering his hand with mine. “I’m safe.”

His breath stuttered, and he pulled me against him again, holding me tightly as if he were anchoring himself to me.

 “I thought—” His voice cracked, his arm trembling around me. “I dreamed I was too late. You were gone. I couldn’t—I couldn’t save you.”

“It was just a dream, Graham.”

“No, Bambi. It… it wasn’t. Not really.” 

“What do you—”

“I never should have left you there. I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve fought harder for you, but Caroline, she… she saw us that night. The night we kissed. Confronted me about it. She said she’d been watching us for years. That she’d seen the way I was with you and that she knew what I was doing. She told me that I was sick. That I…”

Graham’s expression twisted, his eyes growing distant as if he were back there in the apartment that night. 

I opened my mouth to respond, but Graham continued, the words spilling from him as if, now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop.

“She threatened me. Shamed me. Kicked me out that same night. And I didn’t fight it. I was afraid that she was right. I thought if I stayed, I’d ruin you like she said I would. I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I was protecting you.” He swallowed thickly. “From me.”

Someone else decided for me.

The meaning behind Graham’s words from weeks ago finally clicked.

That someone… had been Caroline.

Graham’s sudden disappearance. The way Caroline refused to talk about him, shutting down every question I’d had. The way she’d closed his bedroom door and never opened it again. 

And Graham. The distance he’d kept between us when I’d first arrived at the cottage. The way he’d held himself back, even when I could tell he didn’t want to.

It all started to make sense.

“All this time,” I said, my voice cracking. “I never understood… I thought maybe I’d done something wrong.”

Graham cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing softly over my skin. “Never, Bambi. Never.”

Tears blurred my vision, my heart cracking open for him, for me. For us. 

Caroline had taken something innocent and twisted it into something wrong. She’d looked back at years when Graham and I had been nothing more than kids who cared about each other and made it into something it had never been.

The feelings that had started creeping in when I was seventeen had stayed exactly that—feelings. By the time either of us acted on them, I was twenty and Graham was twenty-three. 

The worst fucking part was that Caroline had made Graham believe her distorted interpretation of everything that had come before, and he’d been living with the shame of it ever since. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I am so sorry she ever made you feel like there was something ugly or shameful about us.”

“I’m not ashamed, Graham. I never have been.” I held his gaze, letting him see that I meant every word.

“Bambi,” he said hoarsely. 

I leaned forward and kissed him. He stilled for a split second before kissing me back. It was slow, tentative.

“Im not still dreaming, am I?” he whispered against my lips. 

“No, you’re not. I’m here,”

I curled my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and deepens the kiss. Our lips and tongues slid languidly over one another. 

His hand ran down my side, settling at my waist. His fingertips pressed deeper into my skin as he pulled me closer until our bodies were flush. His tongue swept deeper into my mouth, his kisses more urgent now, yet somehow just as soft and gentle. Each sensuous slide of his tongue against mine fed the fire burning low in my belly.

Graham’s hand skimmed over the curve of my ass and down my thigh. He hooked his hand beneath my knee and lifted my leg over his. He shifted forward and the hard ridge beneath his pajama pants pressed against me. 

A soft gasp escaped my lips. 

He broke our kiss, but his face still hovered so close to mine that the tips of our noses touched.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

“No,” I said. “I want to.” 

A low sound tore from him, and his mouth claimed mine again. Each kiss that followed was deeper, hungrier, leaving me breathless and dizzy. 

His lips and hands never stopped moving. His mouth found my jaw, then my throat, his kisses hot and relentless against my feverish skin. His hand trailed up my side. Over my shoulder and down my arm. Like he was mapping territory he’d denied himself for years. Every inch of my skin felt hypersensitive beneath his touch.

“You don’t know what you do to me, Bambi.” 

“Show me,” I said, nipping at his lower lip when he came in for another kiss.

He lifted me and pulled me into his lap. His hands clamped around my hips, firm and unyielding, holding me in place, his arousal solid and burning between my thighs. The contact stole the breath from my lungs.

His gaze stayed fixed on me as he shifted his hips, just the barest bit, increasing the pressure between us. Making me aware. Making me understand. 

My face heated, a blush spreading across my cheeks and down my chest.

His thumbs dug into my hips like he was fighting himself. Like this level of control was costing him. Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t thrust, didn’t chase. He just held me there, stretching the moment between us.

The stillness was unbearable. I rocked against him, and the pressure swelled, sending a sharp pulse between my legs. My thighs clenched instinctively around his waist.

His jaw tightened, and his grip on my hips turned rough.

I shifted my hips, and a curse tumbled from his lips. I moved again, seeking relief from the tension building inside me.

“Fuck. Bambi.” 

Graham gripped the backs of my thighs, lifting me with ease. I clung to his shoulders as he turned us and lowered me to the mattress. He settled between my thighs, his broad frame hovering over me.

“Have you ever… with anyone else?” I asked. 

“Never. You’re my first, baby.”

“Me too.”

His lips found mine again, his kiss hungry and unrestrained. 

“Tell me you’re mine, Bambi,” he said between kisses. “Say it. I need to hear it.”

He pressed his hardness against me, and my answer came out on a half-moan. “I’m yours, Graham.”

He pulled back—not far—just enough that he could see my face. 

“Again,” he said.

“I’m yours.”

He kissed me again, this time slowly, as if he were savoring the words on my lips. He trailed kisses down my neck, across my collarbone and shoulder. One of his hands traveled down my side, over my waist and hip, then slipped beneath my panties.

He hissed as his fingers slid through my wetness.

My back arched off the bed at his touch, heat flooding my core. 

Graham slid a single finger inside me, the sensation foreign yet not entirely uncomfortable. He slowly drew his finger back before pushing in again. I felt myself clench around him as the pressure built inside me. He settled into a rhythm that made my toes curl and my breath leave me in short, choppy bursts.

He withdrew his finger and sat back on his heels, his gaze dark with lust as took me in.

He reached for the hem of my tank top and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the floor. My nipples hardened in the cool air. Then, ever so slowly, he slid my panties down my hips. They joined my top on the floor.

Part of me felt self-conscious being completely bare in front of Graham, but there was something about the sight of him kneeling between my thighs, looking at me with such adoration, that quieted my insecurity. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said.

I sat up, holding his gaze as I slid my fingertips into the waistband of his pajama pants and dragged them down his thighs. He helped me the rest of the way before tossing them aside.

I already knew Graham was a work of art, but seeing him now, every hard line of his body washed in the silvery glow of moonlight, I was even more certain that he had been carved by the hands of some masterful fucking stonemason.

“So are you.”

I placed my palms on his chest and slowly ran them down the front of his body. He drew in a sharp breath, his muscles going taut beneath my hands. I moved lower and wrapped my fingers around his cock. His skin was soft, almost silken. His head fell back on a moan, the muscles in his stomach tightening as I gently stroked him.

His hand closed around my wrist, stilling my movements. “If you keep that up, I’m not going to last.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be,” he said, lowering himself over me again, bracing himself on one elbow. “It just felt too fucking good.”

He lined himself up with my entrance and eased into me. 

My eyes fell closed, my body shuddering with the new sensation of fullness. 

Graham dropped his forehead to mine, his arm trembling beside my head. “I’ll go easy, Bambi, but tell me if it hurts.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Mmhmm.”

He eased in deeper, and my mouth opened on a soundless moan.

I had expected some pain, or at least a little discomfort, but all I felt was him. The inescapable heat of his body. The utter fullness of him inside me.

He withdrew slightly before sinking into me again, somehow reaching deeper than before. He fell into a steady rhythm, each thrust pulling a moan from me. I dug my nails into his back as intense pleasure surged through my core.

“Fuck,” Graham groaned. “You feel so fucking good, Bambi.”

His breath was hot against my skin, goosebumps rising along my arms. 

He picked up his pace, pulling back and plunging into me again with an intensity that made my thighs clench around his waist. Breathy moans and curses spilled from me with every thrust. His mouth covered mine, swallowing every sound that stumbled over my lips.

My mind and body were completely consumed by Graham. All I could do was cling tighter to his shoulders as the pleasure continued to build, until I could barely think around it.

“Graham, I—oh, God.”

My stomach tightened, my inner walls squeezing his cock.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me.”

My nails dug deeper into his skin as the tension inside me shattered in a burst of pure ecstasy.

“Graham,” I cried out, my pussy spasming around him.

“Oh, fuck. Bambi.” Graham’s breath caught, and with a low, guttural groan, he followed me over the edge, his body trembling with his release.

Slowly, he slid out of me, then collapsed beside me. He wound his arm around my waist and pulled me close, tucking me in against him. 

We lay like that for a while. When our breathing finally steadied, he tilted my chin up to meet his gaze.

“I’m yours, Bambi,” he said softly, stroking his thumb over my bottom lip. “As much as you are mine.” 

He kissed me deeply, like he was imprinting the words on my lips.

I melted into his kiss, my full weight sinking into him. My body hummed with a deep, bone-settling warmth. Something that felt stronger, steadier than pleasure. Belonging. 

I rested my cheek against his heart, listening as it slowed beneath my ear. 

His hands moved slowly, almost absentmindedly, the soft strokes eventually soothing me into sleep. 

Chapter Fourteen →