He lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes, and I hate that I see something there. Something real.
“I love you,” he says, the words raw, cutting so deep I worry I’ll bleed to death.
I hate him for saying it, hate him for making me feel anything after everything he’s done.
“I love you,” he says again, and the weight of it pulls me under.
I want to scream, to fight, to run, but all I can do is stand there, my hands still in his, trembling as I try to hold myself together.
Daed's eyes glass over, a beautiful storm held within the swirl of gray. The tension between us is unbearable, so thick I can hardly breathe. He’s holding me so gently by the wrists, as if he’s afraid I’ll shatter if he lets go. His chest rises and falls with each labored breath, and I know he’s holding back—holding back everything he feels, everything he wants.
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him, or maybe it’s me, but the next moment, he releases my wrists, and his hands slide up to cradle my face. His touch is like fire, igniting something deep within me that I’ve been trying so hard to bury. My heart pounds so violently it echoes in my ears, and the tears in my eyes blur everything but him.
“Amara...my princess,” he whispers, his voice breaking. His forehead leans against mine, and I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the closeness, by the heat of his skin, by the undeniable pull between us.
I breathe him in—his scent, his presence, everything I’ve missed and fought against. His thumb brushes away a tear from my cheek, and the gentleness of that single act undoesme. Slowly, his lips hover just above mine, and time seems to stop. The world outside fades, and in this moment, it's only us—caught in the web of everything that’s broken between us and everything that remains.
And then, finally, he kisses me.
It’s not soft. It’s not tentative. It’s a kiss that shatters the fragile space between us, a collision of all the hurt and love and passion we’ve been holding back. His mouth moves against mine like a man starving, desperate, tasting the tears on my lips as if they’re part of the pain he’s caused. There’s an edge to it, a rawness that speaks of everything we’ve been through, but it’s also tender in a way that only he can be.
I kiss him back, my hands fisting in his coat, pulling him closer, as if I can’t get enough of him. I hate how much I need this, how much I need him, but in this moment, I let myself fall. His hands slide down my back, pulling me against him, and I melt into his touch, my heart racing as if it's trying to keep up with the storm of emotions inside me.
His lips leave mine, trailing soft, burning kisses along my jawline, down my neck, and I tilt my head back, gasping for breath, my hands clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart. His mouth is hot, relentless, his kisses igniting a burn that spreads through me like wildfire.
“Amara,” he breathes against my skin, his voice hoarse with emotion. “My wife. My love.”
The words are a raw confession, filled with so much longing that it aches, and I can feel it in every touch, in every kiss. But I don’t respond.I can’t.
My heart is a mess of broken pieces, but his hands on my skin, his lips on mine, they make me forget—forget everything but this moment, this feeling. I pull his mouth back to mine. Silencing his beautiful lies. I kiss him harder, pouring all of my pain, myconfusion, my love into it, letting him know that even though I hate him for what he’s done, I still want him.
We stumble backward, his hands never leaving me, and I feel the wall against my back as he presses into me, his kiss deepening, stealing the breath from my lungs. It’s intoxicating, maddening, and for the first time in so long, I let myself feel everything. Every touch, every kiss, every inch of him against me.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he whispers between kisses, his forehead pressing against mine again, his breath mingling with mine. “I need you, Amara. Please.”
His words are a plea, a broken confession, and my heart cracks all over again. I want to tell him I need him too. I want to tell him I love him, but the words don’t come. Instead, I kiss him again, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, pouring all of the unspoken words into this one kiss.
And in this moment, with his lips on mine, with his hands holding me like I’m the only thing that matters, I let myself forget everything else. I let myself fall.
The sensation of Daed’s body pressing into mine is overwhelming, his hands roaming over my skin as he kisses me deeply, his hunger for me palpable in every movement. His jacket falls to the floor, and I waste no time tugging at the buttons of his shirt, my fingers frantic as I pull it open, desperate to feel him. My hands slide across the hard planes of his chest, my touch lingering over the taut muscle as his lips never leave mine, devouring me with a need that mirrors my own.
His fingers trail down, slipping under the hem of my dress, his touch burning through the fabric as he lifts my leg to his hip and grinds himself against me. I gasp at the feel of his body pressed so intimately to mine, the hard length of him a promise of what’s to come. His hand slides between us, finding me already wetand wanting, and I moan into his kiss as his fingers explore me, stroking, teasing, pushing me to the edge of control.
I arch into him, my back pressing against the wall, desperate for more. Every touch, every caress ignites something deeper, something primal inside me. His lips leave mine, trailing down the curve of my neck, his breath hot against my skin as his fingers continue their slow, maddening rhythm. My body trembles under his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips as his thumb circles me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
“I need you,” he whispers, his voice ragged with desire. His forehead rests against mine, our breath mingling as his fingers slide deeper. “Please let me have you, Amara. Now.”
I can barely form words, the ache inside me too intense, my body demanding more. Instead, I let my actions speak for me. I reach for his belt, fumbling with the buckle, my hands shaking as I undo it and let it fall. It is all the invitation he needs. He pulls the front of his trousers down, just enough to free himself. I take in the sight of him—hard and powerful, every inch of him ready for me.
He presses against me, his body fitting perfectly against mine as he lifts me higher, pinning me between him and the wall. I gasp at the feel of him, the heat of him pressing against me, teasing me. His lips claim mine again, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him closer.
“I can’t wait. It’s been so long, my love.”
With one slow movement, he slides inside me, filling me inch by inch. The sensation is exquisite, the stretch of him both aching and perfect. I throw my head back, a soft cry escaping me as he begins to move, his rhythm agonizingly precise, each thrust sending a ripple of pleasure through my body.
His hands grip my hips, his fingers bite, holding me steady as he drives into me, his pace quickening as we both give in to theheat between us. My nails dig into his back, clinging to him as he takes me higher, our bodies moving in desperate harmony. I can feel every inch of him, every hard stroke, every brush of his skin against mine, and it drives me wild with need.
“Amara,” he groans into my open mouth, his voice thick with desire. The sound of my name on his lips sends a shiver through me, my body tightening around him in response.
