Chapter 628
Chapter 628:
She ignored it. She traced the line of his jaw with her lips, her teeth grazing his stubble. She felt him tense, felt the moment his body began to respond despite his mind’s resistance.
She pressed closer, her hips rocking slightly against his.
Dallas groaned, a low, guttural sound. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against him. She felt it then — the hard, undeniable proof of his arousal pressing against her stomach.
Relief flooded through her, hot and sweet. His body worked. The machinery was intact.
But even as she registered that small victory, she felt him begin to pull away. Felt the panic start to rise in him, the memories crowding in.
She didn’t let him retreat. She caught his face in her hands and kissed him, hard and demanding, pouring everything into it — her love, her patience, her absolute refusal to let him disappear into himself.
For a moment, he responded. His mouth opened under hers, his tongue sweeping in, his hands roaming her back with desperate hunger. He backed her up against the marble island, the cold stone shocking against her bare thighs. He stepped flush against her, trapping her between his body and the counter, his hands gripping the edge of the stone on either side of her hips, his mouth trailing fire down her neck.
Then his fingers brushed the edge of her bandage. The graze wound from the shipyard. The physical evidence of danger, of his failure, of everything he hadn’t been able to protect her from.
𝖶𝗵𝖺t 𝖾𝗏e𝗋y𝗈𝘯е 𝗶𝗌 𝗿e𝗮d𝘪n𝘨 𝗼𝗻 ѕ.𝘤о𝗆
He froze.
Eliza felt it happen — the sudden rigidity, the withdrawal, the ghost returning to his eyes. She watched him battle it, watched him try to push through, but the walls were too high and the trauma too fresh.
He stumbled back, his chest heaving, his face twisted with anguish and self-disgust.
“Don’t,” he gasped, holding up a hand to ward her off. “Don’t look at me. I can’t — I can’t p>
He turned away, hands braced on the counter, head hanging. His whole body shook with the effort of control.
Eliza sat on the counter, her heart aching for him, but her mind clear. She had her answer. The body was willing. The mind was the battlefield now.
She slid down and went to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her cheek to his spine.
“I have all the time in the world,” she said softly. “We’ll wait. We’ll heal. Together p>
Dallas’s hand found hers on his stomach and gripped it hard enough to hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be,” she said. “Just don’t give up on us p>
The dining table was small and intimate, set for two. Dallas had cooked — seared steaks with roasted vegetables, a simple meal that smelled like heaven. He moved with surprising grace in the kitchen, his military precision translated into culinary technique.
Eliza watched him serve, noting the care he took with the plating. It was another side of him, this domestic competence. Another piece of the puzzle she was still assembling.