Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. -Confucius
Drake pulls me closer, burying his nose in my hair and kissing the top of my head. He claims my lips. His mouth moves softly, nibbling on my bottom lip before moving down my jaw and chin.
"Danny." His voice is desire-laden, husky.
I open my eyes and stare into the gray depths of his molten-colored eyes.
"I died a thousand times over tonight at the silos when Stephen and the men had you in their grasp," Drake says with an emotional timbre to his voice. "The thought of what he did to you. What he could have done to you, haunts me."
The anguished expression on his face and his words pulls at the tightly wound threads of my heart. Another flood of emotions washes over me.
Wrapping my arms around his
