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Once we arrived, I led him to the couch and wrapped him in a blanket. "Stay here," I told him firmly. "I'm going to make you some tea and get you some water."
He nodded weakly, his eyes closing as he drifted off to sleep. The house was silent as I moved around the kitchen, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I knew Lincoln needed me, but I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of his grief.
As I brought him a cup of tea and a glass of water, he stirred, opening his eyes to look at me. "Thank you, dream girl," he murmured.
But he fell back asleep before he got anything down.
I stayed there, just watching him. Thinking that some soulmates are born to find each other.
But others are ruined.
* * *
Lincoln's fingers twisted a lock of my hair as we laid in bed. He was still seated deep inside me in the aftermath of our lovemaking. He’d woken me up in the middle of the night, desperate for me.
I’d felt that way, too.
He was studying me now, in that intense, awestruck way of his, as if trying to read every emotion that flickered across my face. My body was sore, but it was a good kind of sore, the kind that reminded me of where he’d been. Where he still was.
I was riding the edge. If he started moving again, I would come with ease. I was so addicted to this man.
The air felt hazy around us, magical, like we were trapped in our own little world, and there was nothing that could touch us. I didn’t know how I could ever feel closer to a human being than I did to him at that moment.
"Lincoln," I murmured, breathing through the sensations coursing through my body. I wanted his pain, wanted to take it from him, wrap him up in my love.
I couldn’t say the words to him.
But I could show him.
* * *
Lincoln
I drank in the details of her beautiful face. I’d woken up hungry. Desperate to have her. Needing a hit of her special brand of magic to heal me.
She was riding me, her dark tresses sweeping over my stomach, her breasts bouncing with each movement. I couldn’t help but obsess over her beauty as she gazed deeply into my eyes.
It was more than just a physical experience, it was spiritual.
Our minds, our souls, and our bodies were reaching out and touching each other at the same time.
I moved gently, drawing on her pleasure, and felt her tighten around me. She exhaled a soft moan as I met the gentle writhe of her body with a heavy thrust.
She was riding me, and then, suddenly, she was coming. Those beautiful spasms gripped me tightly, and the orgasm rocketed out of me in excruciatingly intense bursts.
I owned her, and she owned me. I was addicted to the way she felt, a bittersweet pain I wasn’t sure I’d survive.
She collapsed onto me, panting and dazed.
After a second, she tried to lift herself off, wincing a little. Her thighs were slick with our passion and her hair was a wild mess. She'd never looked more beautiful.
But I couldn’t let her go yet. I couldn’t do it. I pulled her back down, and she understood.
Of course she understood.
She was my fucking soulmate.
She was the most exquisite thing I’d ever seen in my life.
