I’m never leaving you again.
I’ll build a new home for us where no one knows our names.
But I made a promise I intend to keep. So I wait, respecting her boundaries and mentally begging for her to one day say those three big little words to me.
I claim her mouth again, nibbling on her pouty lower lip and curl my arms around her waist, drawing her closer.Dio, I spent so many nights dreaming of being with her like this again. I never thought it would happen. I was convinced I was doomed to spend the rest of my life drowning my misery in meaningless one-night stands.
“Tell me what I am to you.” The words erupt without my consent, voice low, a tease wrapped around a plea. “One word.”
She narrows her eyes like she sees exactly what I’m doing. “Annoying.”
I huff out a laugh. “Another.”
“Stubborn.”
“True.” I nudge her nose with mine. “Another.”
Her mouth tips, then falters. Her eyes bore into mine, the storm of emotion brewing beneath the emerald surface breathtaking. “Mine,” she finally whispers. It’s so soft the train could take it away if it wanted.
Something deep inside me sits down and cries while the rest of me somehow manages to keep breathing. A smile stretches across my lips. “Good answer.”
There’s so much more I want to say, so many confessions, so much pleading and groveling. Instead, I kiss her again, lingering and slowly, like that word deserves. Her fingers fist in my shirt and pull me closer. The angle shifts and the kiss stops being gentle. It turns fiery and honest. Hungry, but threaded with care, like we’re both afraid to bruise what’s left between us.
Merda, I’m terrified.
“Are you sure?” I whisper the dreaded words against her mouth, even though I’ll die if she says no.
“Yes,” she breathes, and arches into me.
I slide my palm under the hem of her shirt, mapping the heat of her waist, the tremble that isn’t fear but wanting. When my hand grazes higher to the spot beneath her collarbone, shegoes still for a heartbeat.Livia. It’s an unspoken boundary I accept, despite the overwhelming urge to touch the name she carved into her chest. A spear of pain lodges into my heart at the reminder, but I steal myself, shoving it down.
Circling back to her breasts, I worship the places she offers. The tender side of her hip. The line of her spine. The sweet spot at the small of her back that has her shivering when I press.
She drags her nails down my ribs, and it’s almost gentle. I groan and the sound breaks something tight between us. I roll, bringing her with me so she’s straddling my hips, head nearly hitting the top bunk. Her hair is messy, cheeks flushed, eyes blowing wide as if she doesn’t know how beautiful she is when she’s not hiding.
“God, look at you,” I rasp. “You’re so perfect you kill me.”
“You’re already dead, remember?” She tries to smile and it wobbles, so I kiss the wobble into a real one.
I work us out of the obstacles between us, her leggings and top, my belt and jeans. We’re laughing when my elbow thumps the wall because the berth is small and I am not. Her eyes are fixed to mine when my gaze catches on the locket bouncing on her chest, then the flowers inked over her heart. My fingers itch to trace the flowing letters.
With a soft exhale, she takes my hand and presses it over her name. Our daughter. The one we could have had if I hadn’t been such a coward. My palm meets her warm flesh and something inside me shatters. Then my finger moves, tracing the intricate lettering.Livia. I want to ask her where the name came from, why she chose it, why she gave up… But I don’t. Instead, I press my lips to the ink and the blossoms and pretend.
Cat slides my hand to her breast, and I understand the quiet moment is over. As I toy with her nipple, she rocks her hips against mine and my cock rubs against the apex of her thighs. She lets out another soft moan.
Then her hands are at my waistband, freeing me from the offending layer between us. I tear off the remaining lace, then her bra and panties hit the floor. I hiss out a breath as I take her in, bare and beautiful. I barely bite back theI love youthis time.
Gripping her hips, she sinks onto me, and all my careful words go white-noise. Only one thought remains for an instant before vanishing into the ether: one day I’ll put another baby inside her, and this time I’ll never let her go.
Her hips grind against mine, lids heavy with desire. The train’s sway becomes a rhythm. We borrow it, slow at first, then deeper. Becausemerdawith every thrust, I only want more. All this time, and I never realized what I’ve been missing.
“Hey,” I whisper, because I need it like air. I tuck a curl behind her ear. “Eyes on me.”
She holds my gaze, as she rides me and the world gets razor clear. We move, and the movement is a conversation we remember by heart. Her hands brace against my chest, and my thumb moves to stroke her clit, earning a satisfying gasp. She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to keep the orgasm at bay. I’d forgotten that habit, the one right before she breaks. We move together perfectly. It’s raw and tender, and it’s every apology we don’t know how to say out loud.
“You’re shaking,” I murmur.
“Stop talking,” she fires back, breathless.
