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The knot in my throat tightens.Up until now, I haven’t told anyone what exactly happened to me until she did.I’d buried my story.And perhaps that’s why I’m still battling my demons.They still have some power over me.
“Sorry for not asking if it was okay to disclose what happened,” she apologizes.
“I won’t sugarcoat it, Aerin.It was gut-wrenching to see that in print, but I’m glad you did it.”
“The reason for the ...sex embargo isn’t due to what happened, but because I’m uncertain if I can handle it,” she murmurs, her gaze on the floor.
“What does that mean?”
“It might trigger something, bring flashbacks or ...I’ve heard all kinds of reactions victims have during intercourse...I’m afraid of them happening while we make love.”
I walk a couple of steps and extend a hand.“Why don’t we just sleep together for tonight?”I offer.“I miss having your body next to mine.”
“Even if we don’t ...”she stammers, her voice trailing off.
“Ae, you’re more important than anything else in the world.”
“I love you, and I’m sorry for what they did to you.”
I inhale deeply, gathering my thoughts.“I was too high to remember some of those things or to help you.”
Her eyes well up, threatening to spill.“Being next to you kept me sane during those days and later.”She starts crying, her words punctuated by sobs.“To this day, your soothing words remain with me.They’re imprinted in my heart and my soul.”
With careful movements, she peels her shirt upward, exposing a delicate ink etching hidden just beneath her right breast.My gaze is drawn to it, the contours and lines of the design.
The words inked onto her skin read,
Till my last breath and beyond, I’ll always love you—G ♥?
“I always will,” I repeat.
My arms encircle her, pulling her into the warm cocoon of my embrace as we settle onto the couch.I feel her body quiver against mine and hear the sobs that escape from the very depth of her soul.“You’re a part of me, my heart,” I murmur into her hair.
Her face nestles against my chest, hidden between my arm and my body, hers shuddering with silent tears.“Do you remember our first time?”she asks, her voice muffled.
“Of course.I’ll never forget it.”
“Can you ...Would you be as gentle?”
“Yes, but are you sure you want to do it?”
“Please,” she whispers, the word a soft plea.
Quietly, we move upstairs to her room.I take my time undressing her, each kiss I plant on her exposed skin a silent promise.She is fragile under my touch, a flower I fear I might crush if I’m not careful.“Tell me if you need me to slow down or stop,” I say, motioning to the bed.“Sit down.”
She nods, her eyes never leaving mine as I remove my shirt.My hands tremble slightly as I unfasten my pants, sliding them and my boxer briefs down my legs.
“You have a lot of tattoos.Did San do them?”she asks, her gaze now fixed on the inked artwork covering my torso.
Shaking my head, I respond, “No, I haven’t let him touch me.”There’s a twinge of regret in my voice as I say this because maybe instead of begging him to hurt me, I should’ve asked him to help me heal.
But back then, I wasn’t ready—I was hollow, incomplete, much like him.I sit next to her on the bed, pulling her to me and gently positioning her on my lap.
Her mouth places butterfly kisses along my jaw until her lips press against mine.They are a blend of need, hunger, and a myriad of unspoken emotions.As she parts my lips, I let her emotions pour into me, seeping into the fabric of my being.Her body sways, pressing tantalizingly against my rising arousal.
Fuck, fuck.Control yourself.This has to be slow and gentle—at her pace.
My hands begin a journey over her form, each curve, each dip committed to memory.I tilt my head, tracing the peaks of her breasts with the tip of my tongue as my hands continue their exploration, skating down the sides of her body.
