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“We’re finally together, my love,” I whisper, overwhelmed by the preciousness of this moment.
How many times had I dreamed of this? Of having him all to myself? How many times had I woken up during the day with the realization that he might have been dead?
That thought alone had driven me to the edge of madness, making me relinquish my desire to live—all in an effort to join him and our son in the afterlife.
He moves slowly in and out of me, making love to every piece of me.
“Thank you for forgiving me,” I tell him. My throat constricts with emotion the more I stare into his eyes—the more I have to convince myself this is all real.
“How could I not forgive you when loving you comes as naturally to me as breathing?” He leans forward, kissing my forehead. “How could I not forgive you when I cannot imagine my life without you, pretty girl?” he says on a ragged breath, his lips hovering over my eyes as he peppers kiss after kiss on my skin.
His body is worshiping mine, our souls tethered by an invisible thread that becomes stronger and stronger with each thrust.
When he finally reaches my lips, he kisses me like a man starved—like this is the kiss that will set the precedent for all other kisses. I wrap my arms around him, banishing all thoughts from my mind as I simply give myself to feeling. His lips on mine. His body sliding against mine. His cock penetrating me so deep, he reaches my very essence.
I don’t know how much time passes, or how long we stay like that.
Everything fades away, but the feeling of pleasure, that shifts into an indescribable flavor of love.
My muscles tense just as he teeters on the edge, and as I reach my climax, his hot seed floods my insides, not leaving a single part of me untouched. Even as we’re both languid and sated, we don’t move.
We remain wrapped around each other, still connected.
“I…” he whispers. “It’s never been like this before,” he confesses, echoing my own feelings.
“There was something magical about it, wasn’t it?” I smile, burrowing my face into the crook of his shoulder.
“I swear I felt you in my soul, pretty girl,” he says, confusion swirling in his voice.
“Me too, Raf. Me, too.”
At some point, we get up to retrieve our clothes from the river since it gets quite chilly at night. Raf makes a small fire next to our tent and he urges me to sit down as he opens the first aid kit.
“I need to make sure you didn’t get your bandages wet. I don’t want you to get an infection,” he says, his attention focused on my wrists as he peels back the first bandage. The wound I’d gotten from the plane crash isn’t pretty, but at least it stopped bleeding.
“How is it?” I ask when I see his brows furrowing.
“Not infected, thank God,” he murmurs before disinfecting it once more and adding a clean bandage. “You need to be more careful until we get out of here. We don’t know what parasites might be in the water,” he warns lightly.
“That is exactly what I needed to hear right now, Raf. That I might have some parasite in my arm,” I add drily, the mental image of his words making me wince.
“Well, let’s hope you don’t have one. I don’t share,” he says playfully.
I can’t help but burst into laughter. Leaning down, I address my arm as I speak. “Hear that, potential parasite that might have entered my bloodstream? Raf doesn’t share.”
He chuckles.
“Damn right. I’m the only one that’s supposed to go inside you. So Mr. Parasite should be ready for a challenge if he tries to entermyterritory.”
“You’re so silly.” I swat him with my other hand.
“Hey, easy. We have to make sure there’s no parasite in your other hand either,” he comments.
I just shake my head at him, letting him patch me up before turning his attention to my wrist.
He slowly takes off my bandage, revealing a linear scar. The wound had been sewed up by the surgeon at the hospital, but it’s still a little red.
Raf pulls my wrist closer to the fire so he can get a better view, analyzing each angle.
