Again, I follow. Always.
∞∞∞
Back in our room, she just stands there. Silent. Breathing like it hurts.
I don’t ask if she’s okay. I don’t press. Instead, I wait for her to tell me what she needs.
“I need you,” she says. No drama. No buildup. Just raw, exposed honesty, that sounds like it costs her to say it out loud.
I step toward her. “What exactly do you need, Baby?”
She looks up, eyes burning like they did the night she firstlet me hold her. “To forget. To feel. To love.”
I swallow hard. “You sure?”
She nods. “I trust you. I want…that. With you. Only you.”
I cross the room in two strides, cupping her face in both hands, my forehead resting against hers.
“You don’t have to be strong for me.”
Her hands slide down my chest, tugging at the hem of my shirt. She lifts it slowly, fingers brushing bare skin. She presses a kiss to my collarbone, then another just above my heart.
“Show me,” she whispers. “What it’s like to be cared for by you. All the way.”
I don’t rush. Slowly, I strip her. Like she’s art I’m unwrapping. A masterpiece no one else gets to see or touch.
By the time she’s bare, she’s trembling. I lay her back on the bed gently, kiss her lips, her throat, the space between her breasts, the soft curve of her belly. The places no one’s loved right.
I stand and rid myself of the rest of my clothes.
“You’re mine to catch when you fall. Mine to hold together when you break. Mine to worship when you don’t believe in yourself.”
A tear escapes down her cheek. I hate it, but I also love it. Because it means she trusts me enough to be vulnerable. And I know I can put her back together the way she needs.
“Please,” she whispers.
I climb between her thighs, deliberate and sure. “I’ll give you anything you want. You never have to beg.”
I ease into her, enjoying the way we fit together so perfectly. Her fingers clutch at my back, nails digging in like she’s afraid I’ll disappear. But I won’t. I never will.
When she falls apart—broken, gasping, cryingmyname—I hold her through the aftershocks.
She doesn’t speak when it’s over. Just curls into me, heart racing against mine, and lets herself be small.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper into her hair.
And I do. Always.
Forever even, if she’ll let me.
Chapter 37
Aro—2 years ago…
A block from the club, the bass is already thumping.
Pauly, Jeremiah, and I walk arm in arm. Pauly and Jeremiah because they’re in love and can’t go five minutes without touching. Jeremiah and me because I’m in stilettos and haven’t figured out how to walk like I belong in them.
