Looking deep into my eyes, it’s as if he’s seeing me for the very first time all over again. “And I’ve been waiting to do this from the moment I laid eyes on you.” Moving an inch closer to me, his warm breath bathes over my skin. The seconds before his lips touch mine are painfully sweet. The anticipation, the want, the need, the desire.

All of it swirls around in my chest, swelling in a sense of love like I’ve never felt. Knowing what his lips feel like on mine, and needing them again as if it’s the first time, it’s the perfect balance of what used to and what will be.

The soft fullness of his lips on mine is a feeling I’ll never forget, but it’s new at the same time. The sparks I’d always felt are still there, but I wait to see if they’re there for him as well. He pulls back and my heart sinks. He doesn’t feel it. My mind races.

“It’s okay. I under–”

My words die on his lips.

His hand in my hair, his lips on mine, his body warm and alive under my fingers—it’s all overwhelming. Pulling back once more, his eyes are wide and vibrant. Resting his forehead against mine, he takes a deep breath. “It’ll never be enough for me either. Not after that.”

“Oh, thank God,” I gasp, before attacking his mouth again. My brain and my body won’t cooperate and I’m clumsy at first. Angling my head the wrong way, not knowing where to put my hands. Wanting to put them everywhere all at once.

And he’s just the same.

It’s the most imperfectly perfect second first kiss ever.

With steps steadier than his, I walk backward to the bedroom. Stopping halfway down the hall, I look up at him, catching my breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t assume. I got ahead–”

“Stop.” His hand tightens on my waist. “Just shut up and keep kissing me. I want you, too.”

A smile pulls at my lips at his demanding nature. It’s comforting to know that hasn’t changed. Nudging the door open with my back, I walk us into his room, spinning us around so that he’s only steps away from the bed. With one gentle push, I step away from him, affording me a few inches of space between us.

Something bold takes over. Courage flows through my veins and uncertainty vanishes. Regardless of what tomorrow brings for us, I want him. Right here and now, I need to be with him. Catching a glimpse of the scars on his arm, I’m quickly reminded that tomorrow is not a guarantee.

And in our case, neither is yesterday.

Sometimes all you have are the minutes ticking on right in front of you.

With those emotions filling my heart, I lift my shirt over my head. Tossing it to the floor in a gentle cascade of soft pink fabric, I’m rewarded with his hungry, wide-eyed stare. Stepping out of my jeans, I let them pool at my feet. Toeing off my shoes, I kick my pile of clothes to the side. In a quick move that leaves goose bumps racing over my heated skin, I get rid of my bra and panties.

Standing naked before him, I don’t know what to expect. His silence is my reward. Rubbing his thumbs over his fingers, he’s on the edge of a decision, literally restraining himself from reaching out for me.

Taking a deep breath, I step within an inch of him. Lacing my fingers with his, I look into his eyes. “You can touch me. Whatever happens afterward doesn’t matter. All that matters is right now.” With a slowness that makes it feel as if time is standing still, he reaches our joined hands up to my breast. When his fingers graze over my skin, my breath gets caught in my throat.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he growls, gently squeezing my flesh. “So warm.”

My head falls backward at his touch, my ability to even hold myself upright nearly gone completely. “I’ve been waiting to feel you again for so long, I forgot how good it would be,” I admit, pushing my breast into his needy hand. My legs wobble just as he wraps his arm around my waist.

“I’ve got you,” he promises, letting soft kisses fall to my neck. “God, I want you,” he growls against my skin, setting loose a fresh river of chills.

“Take me,” I beg. “Please. Take me, now.” Effortlessly, he spins me around and lowers me to the bed. His weight presses me into the mattress and I could happily lie there for the rest of my life. Looking up at me from under his long lashes, he kisses a hot path down the center of my chest. Though I try to stifle it, a soft whimper escapes my mouth as his descends on my tightened nipple. As if I have no control over them, my hands dive into his hair. It’s longer now than it used to be, curling at the nape of his neck. “Oh, God,” I pant, over and over, heavy with need.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmurs against my skin before devouring the other nipple. My body bucks and writhes beneath his. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this alive, so filled with need and passion, I’m afraid I might burst.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he groans in my ear. “I want you so damn much, Grace.”

Clawing at his shirt, I pull it over his head. “Then take me already. Please.” Nearly crying now, I can’t convey to him in words how much I need this moment.

Whatever reservations he may have had are washed away when my hand slides down his shorts, grasping his hard length in my palm. He calls out in pleasure, resting his forehead against mine. “Oh, fuck,” he curses, pushing his body into my waiting hand. Moisture leaks from his tip and I know he’s willing himself to hold back.

Demanding hands push down the elastic waist band of his shorts. His cast gets in the way and as he kneels up to pull them the rest of the way off, he falls to his side, rolling onto his back. Not one to waste an opportunity like this, I climb on top of his hard body.

Hovering over him, I ignore the shaking in my legs. “I need you,” I murmur, lowering my wet flesh to his cock beneath me. Rocking back and forth, I coat him in my wetness, not taking him inside yet. I know I couldn’t handle it. My need is too much, my desire too full.

His wide, swollen crown flicks over my clit with each pass. An electric storm brews low in my belly, threatening to burst into a million streaks of brilliant light, white hot and impossibly bright. His strong hands settle on my hips, pushing me back and forth even faster. “Come, Gracie. Come all over me. Let go. I’ll catch you when you fall.”

Those words are my undoing.

Not because my body explodes into impossibly small shards of pleasure.

But because he’s said them before. Time and time again, he’s promised me that he’d be there for me when I fell.

And here he is.

Holding me steady as my body convulses in a pleasure only he can give me.

“You’ve told me those words before. You always promised to catch me.” My voice is a garbled mess of need and near sobs.

He wars with his words, and rather than saying anything, seals his lips over mine, promising more than anything spoken ever could have.

Before I can catch my breath, I pull myself up, reach in between our bodies, and guide him into my still-spasming core.

“Oh, fuck,” he calls out, pushing deep inside. “I can’t,” he cries, the veins in his neck bulging with his restraint. “Oh, shit, Grace.”

Twining my fingers with his, I stretch our arms above his head. Pressing my soft body against his hard chest, I move back and forth, loving how he grows harder and harder with each push and pull.

Wrapping an arm around my back, he holds another steady in my hair. Locking me in place, he shifts his hips, swiveling them, bringing me right to that delicious edge once again.

Smoothly, he rolls us over, never once severing the connection between us.

In that moment, I realize we’ve never been disconnected. Darkness may have separated us for some time, but it only dimmed our light. It never extinguished it completely.

Resting his elbows on the pillow under my head, his mouth covers mine. His body drives into me, filling me, pulling me into an abyss of pleasure only he’s capable of rescuing me from.