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“Yes, baby, you can. Give it to me,” he growls, the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust. Our skin sticks together where we’re connected.
I love that I’m the one who’s able to turn him into a wild animal.
His thumb finds my clit, and with one flick, I become dizzy while my orgasm takes over, causing temporary blindness.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans, the salty sweat from his forehead dripping onto my face and in my mouth. “I’m going to come in your pussy right fucking now,” he says through gritted teeth, and true to his word, I feel his warm seed fill me yet again.
Dark spots cloud my vision, and his voice fades and becomes softer and softer, fading into the darkness.
I’m positive that I passed out from being fucked too hard because as soon as I come to, I realize I’m sitting between Dean’s legs in a bathtub filled with warm water with no idea how I got here. His hand is under the surface between my legs, gently washing me with a washcloth. His touch isn’t sexual. It’s careful and caring, washing away the sweat that adorns my skin.
After our bath, Dean dries us off and carries me to bed, climbing into the sheets and holding me against his naked body, careful to avoid the massive wet spot we’d made on my side of the bed.
A content sigh leaves my lips. I’m so exhausted that I can barely think straight or keep my eyes open.
“It took us long enough to find our way back together,” he whispers into the darkness of the room. I’m not fully able to comprehend what he’s even saying. “I would do it all over again because the result is worth it. I’ve waited eleven years for you, Camille. I’m not letting you go this time, and I’m done waiting. From this point forward, you are mine.”
“I’ve been yours since the day we met.” My lips move on autopilot before my mind has a chance to catch up. With a sigh, I roll on my back. Our lips find each other in the dark and lock together like magnets. “Never let me go,” I whisper against his warm lips, his arms wrapping around me protectively.
“Never,” he promises, reclaiming my lips. “It’s always been you. There’s never been a moment in my life where it hasn’t been you. You were born to be mine.”
We fall asleep wrapped in each other, stealing kisses in the dark.
My heart is full for the first time in a long time, and I’m happy.
THIRTY
NOW
Camille
A few weeks ago, I had canceled my therapy sessions with Dr. Reynolds. I felt I no longer needed them, even though she insisted on it. She’s been persistent, so when her assistant began calling me daily to insist I set up another appointment, I finally caved and scheduled an appointment. I figured I owed it to her to tell her face-to-face that I don’t need her or the medication right now. I’m good, I’m happy, my mind is clear, and I don’t want to go back to being foggy and numb.
I feel things, and I want to feel. Feeling is how I know I’m alive. Whatever the emotion is, I don’t want to be numb to it. I fully stopped taking my medication the day I went skydiving with Dean, and I’ve never felt better. My mind is clear.
So, here I am, back in Dr. Reynolds’s office for my regular Tuesday morning appointment.
In the entire year I’ve been seeing her, I don’t think that I’ve ever made her speechless, but that’s what she is right now after the bomb I just dropped.
Speechless.
Perhaps if I’d been a little more honest about my marriage in the past, she wouldn’t be surprised with my news, but there’s a lot about Declan that I’ve failed to mention in the past. For example, I’ve never told her that I’ve never beeninlove with him and always loved him like a best friend but never in the way a wife should love her husband.
I love him because he’s the father of my child.
I love him because he makes me laugh and we’re forever connected. What we share is truly an unbreakable bond.
Have I ever been in love with him and loved him with every ounce of my heart and fiber of my being? The answer is easy—no.
Love makes you feel insensible. It’s messy and unapologetic and makes you feel weightless. Being in love is an extraordinary feeling. It’s two souls coming together and becoming one.
Declan isn’t the other half of my soul.
The truth is I found my missing puzzle piece when I was only eight years old.
I should’ve been honest with Dr. Reynolds all along, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. No point in dwelling on the past.
“Are you certain this is what you want to do?” she asks, sitting a little straighter in her brown leather chair.
