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My God…
“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how to make this good for you.”
“Ease in,” I say, “past the tight rim. Hold there for a minute, and then slide all the way in.”
I let out a breath as he breaches me again. Damn, he’s even harder this time. I breathe out again as he slides all the way in.
“Fuck,” he growls for the third time. “I need you. I need this.”
“Go ahead,” I tell him. “Fuck me, Dale. Fuck my ass. Make me yours.”
He pulls out and pushes back in, this time the pain lessening. I’m so full. So full of the man I love. And though I’ve done this before, my heart swells this time.
This isn’t simply anal sex.
This is Dale and me and our wedding night.
This is my trust in this man, and his trust in me.
He gave way to me, let me take the lead because this is something I know about.
As hard as that must have been for Dale, he did it.
And we’re closer for it.
I breathe out again, relishing in the intrusion. So good. Once the pain is gone, anal is so good.
With Dale, it’s perfect.
He slides in and out of my ass, and with each new invasion, I feel renewed. I feel as though we’re a part of each other as we never were before.
“Damn it, Ashley. Damn.” He thrusts harder.
I push back against him, letting him go in as deeply as possible.
“Fuck. Need to come.”
“God, please,” I say. “Please come, Dale. Come for me. Come for us.”
He plunges into me, and the force of his orgasm rumbles against my tightness.
When he finally pulls out, he sighs. “My God…”
“Pretty amazing,” I say dreamily.
He moves toward the bathroom door. I hear water whoosh out of a faucet. A few minutes later, a warm cloth covers my ass.
He’s taking care of me.
My wonderful husband is taking care of me.
He discards the cloth and pushes me over onto my back. Then he lies next to me.
“I want this to work,” he says in a serious tone.
“It will,” I reply, still reveling in the orgasms and then the anal.
I’m used up. Used up in the most wonderful way.
“I’m serious,” Dale says.
“So am I. I love you.”
“This will take more than love, Ash.”
I ruminate on his words. I’ve told him before that love is enough. That love will conquer anything.
He’s always disagreed.
Apparently he still does.
“What, then?” I ask. “What will it take? Because I’ll make damned sure we both do it.”
He sighs. “Honesty. Complete honesty between us.”
“You know everything about me.”
He scoffs softly. “Not everything. Not every single person you’ve—”
I cover his mouth with my fingers. “Does that matter? Does it have to matter?”
“No,” he says after pausing a few seconds. “It doesn’t matter.”
I heave a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I can’t change any of it, Dale, nor would I. My past made me who I am today.”
“I can’t change my past either, Ashley,” he says.
“Right. And I wouldn’t want you to, for the same rea—”
“That’s the difference between us,” he says. “I would change parts of my past if I could. And that’s something we both have to live with.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Dale
I have to tell her.
Have to tell her how I came to be adopted into the Steel family.
Will she run away screaming?
It dawns on me, then, why I rushed into marriage after maintaining that I’d never go there. That I couldn’t give Ashley more than two months.
I don’t want to lose her.
I never want to be without her.
I’m being so selfish.
Sure, she loves me, but when she finds out about all my baggage, she’s going to run away as fast as she can.
I won’t blame her.
Hell, I’d run away from me too.
“What is it?” she asks.
My past lies dormant within me. I never talk about it. I rarely even think about it. Only in nightmares or daydreams.
Since Ashley arrived in my life, though, I find myself ruminating on the past more and more. Remembering.
Remembering, because if I don’t, I’ll get myself into something I can no longer control.
Marrying Ashley was a whim. Very unlike me.
Totally unlike me.
But damn, I love her so much.
I should have told her everything before I married her. Should have…
Should have…
“Ashley,” I say softly. “There’s so much you don’t know about me.”
She cups my cheek. “I know you’re my husband, and I know I love you very much. That’s enough.”
I don’t respond.
“I also know you love me.”
“I do,” I affirm.
“You can tell me anything. Nothing will change how I feel about you.”
I say nothing.
“Dale,” she says, “what is it?”
“My past… It’s…complicated.”
“Whose isn’t? You know mine. I’m the child of a rapist. I was homeless when I was a kid.”
“And you pulled yourself out of it,” I say.
“With a lot of help from my mom.”
“I…”
“It’s okay,” she says. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
“Screw it.” I pull her on top of me.
