Soft places. Vulnerable places. Places that dreamed of more. And she could see them, even if they weren’t real and could never be. Places she had to lock up tight, somehow, someway, or she’d not survive.
“I should—” she started, but Sol reached up and placed a finger on her lips.
“Please.” He studied her face. “What are you so afraid of?”
That when I leave, I will not be able to lie to myself about this. That I will not be able to call what we had mere temporary pleasure. That I will have to admit that this act, with you, is significant. And thus, for as long as I manage to survive, I’ll have to live with the memory of what I lost and—she forced the thoughts down whence they’d come.
“I told you, wanting what’s not mine,” she said. As that was true as well. Because what he wanted to give could never truly be hers.
He shook his head. “You don’t understand; this is already yours, Hannah,” he said, taking her wrist and running her palm over his own body. “I’m already yours.” Shifting, he pushed the quilt down farther, revealing the rest of his very nude, very erect body.
Hannah shook her head. She wanted him too, too much in too, too many ways. And this would never be enough. Even if it was all she’d have.
“All yours,” he repeated, his voice firm as he stared into her eyes. “All you have to do is take it.” He cocked his head as she hesitated, her heart pounding in her ears. But how could she refuse him? She wrapped her hand around him, his soft skin stretched tight against his hardness.
“You can do that for me, can’t you?” He pulled her hips closer, so the tip teased her entrance. She moaned, stroking him with her hand as she made him slick with her own wetness.
“There we go,” he whispered as, god help her, she gave in, and took him inside her again.
She gasped his name as she let him fill her. The last time, she vowed to herself. She’d have to make this the last time. No matter how right it felt. If it wasn’t, she would certainly not survive.
“Yes, love?” he whispered, the term of endearment shattering the last bit of protection she had, but she was beyond caring.
“Please, I need…” she said through the lump in her throat, her eyes stinging.
“I know, love, I know.” He reached up and stroked her cheek before placing his thumb in that same blissful spot and moving beneath her, thrusting upward, as together they established a rhythm that was anything but elegant or gentle, but completely theirs.
She’d never felt so full, or so safe, and she gave herself over to the waves of pleasure, carrying her higher and higher.
“Touch yourself again for me,” he gasped as he moved faster. “Show me you’re here with me and me alone, nowhere else.”
And she obliged, grabbing her breasts once more as his movements sped, taking her over the edge, her body squeezing his as she sailed off their peak. In a flash, he’d rolled her onto her back, taking his own pleasure through her waves, until he slid out of her body, wrapping her against his chest as he finished, repeating her name over and over.
“Tell me you love me,” he whispered to her. “Just say the words, once, let me hear them.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
She wanted to. So badly. But one of them had to be strong. One of them had to be reasonable. And it would have to be her.
Sol only kissed the top of her head when she said nothing. And they lay there in the silence, her body pressed against his as he stroked her hair, Hannah willing back tears as she tried not to think of the losses to come.
