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Making it hard to see, let alone stand.
I didn’t know if it was our truths and lies, or the fact that I was in his arms that had me feeling fucking alive.
Thriving.
Living.
With my husband’s mouth against mine.
Weakly, I thrashed around, ignoring the pain in my head and the throbbing in my heart. The damage I’d caused for both of us as we were gasping for air.
Frustrated.
Overwhelmed.
Frenzied with each other.
Closing my eyes, I tried to steady my breathing, my thoughts, my fucking heart. It was broken. Torn into a million pieces.
He loosened his grip, slowly brushing his lips against mine and causing me to open my eyes. I saw all our memories fly through his gaze, one right after the other.
The first time we talked.
The first time he kissed me.
Touched me.
Made me his.
I was born to be his…
When his heated, tormented stare became too much for me to take, I turned my face, but he gripped onto my chin and forced me to look at him again.
“You don’t get to hide from me, Mrs. Troy.”
I grimaced, those two words killing me slowly.
We stared at one another for what felt like hours, both of us lost in our own darkness.
In our own demons.
In our past.
In the things we couldn’t change, but frantically wanted to, and in the things we could change but didn’t know how.
Our future.
Our regrets.
Our love.
It was right there, ripping us apart. Piece by piece, bit by bit, we were bleeding out for each other. He licked away the blood from his lips, and I silently wished I was doing it for him. My eyes followed the movement of his tongue, stirring a rush of adrenaline to surge through my veins.
“I love you! I fucking love you!” I shouted, and he let me go, but only to once again slam his mouth onto mine.
He growled, parting his lips. His hands went to the sash of my silk robe, opening it. Making me whimper, he fell to his knees in between my legs and licked from my opening to my clit.
“Fuck…” I moaned, falling apart at the seams.
