I couldn’t pretend I didn’t crave her. I couldn’t lie and say I could live without her anymore. I was done being alone when all I wanted was to have a family.
To love.
Even when people died.
To care.
Even when people left.
To be open to loss.
Even when love was so fucking cruel.
I thrust again and again, holding her prisoner as I made her mine.
I kissed her as I drove into her.
Deeper and deeper, over and over.
She cried out as I hit the top of her, my eyes snapping closed at the surreal sensation of being inside this girl.
She rocked against me for each thrust, fucking me as I fucked her, bruise for bruise.
There was nothing gentle or soft about us.
Both chasing a desire we’d danced around for years.
I took her.
Rough and ruthless.
She took me.
Determined and damned.
Everything inside me wanted to erupt. Her heat. Her kindness. Her blind belief that she could save me.
I slipped on the sandy floor as I thrust again. Sweat rivered down my back and Hope’s skin turned just as slippery.
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as her eyes met mine. Forehead to forehead, arms locked around each other, bodies riding the other.
And I fell into her.
I felt the tug to tumble.
I fought the call to commit.
I closed my eyes and forced my body to stay well away from my heart. All while knowing I was too late because as the first tingle and shiver of an orgasm brewed, I almost believed I could have this.
Have her.
For eternity.
As my hips rolled, I almost made the fatal error that all marriages were based on.
The belief that this would never end.
The faith that the preciousness of what we’d found would never die.
The trading of hearts in the face of death’s rebellion. A declaration against life itself.
My face contorted as I let go, gave in, and allowed myself to taste such a gift for the shortest moment.
And the intensity, the relief, the all-consuming need I buckled with didn’t kill me like I feared, it made wings sprout from my back and fortunes scatter at my feet. I believed I was invincible. I basked in the sacred glow of absolute untainted happiness.
And I wanted that.
With all my broken, stupid heart.
But then fear smoked inside me, whispering of sobbing goodbyes and tear-washed funerals, and my violence to avoid such pain became worse.
So, so much worse.
I bit her neck, cursing her even as I claimed her, thrusting again and again, arching my hips until every inch of me pounded into her. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
She reared back, her breasts bouncing as I rode her. Her mouth opened to speak, but then her eyes burned with the same bloodthirsty fear, and in that second, she looked as if she hated me.
But then it was gone, replaced with the ever-suffering affection. “I know. But I won’t forgive you either.”
“Forgive me for what?”
“For stealing my heart forever.”
I grimaced as a wave of dark desire clutched my lower belly. “I never asked for your heart.”
She rocked against me, her fingers digging into my shoulders, pressing herself as deep as she could. “Yet you stole it anyway.”
My eyes snapped closed as I struggled to fight the creeping cloud of an orgasm. A thunder strike clapped over ahead, making Hope flinch in my arms.
Rain hammered the roof as pain hammered my soul.
But I never stopped thrusting, hoping, living in that tiny piece of bliss with the girl I would give anything to keep.
I rode her until I couldn’t fight my climax any longer.
She left me lost and alone, gasping for answers—throwing me to the mercy of two futures I didn’t know how to survive.
One with her.
One without her.
And animalistic aggression soared over the weakness of my heart. It thought for me. It shut up awful worries and focused on the only thing it could survive.
Coming.
My orgasm brewed full of pain and goodbyes, pushing me over the edge.
I opened my mouth to howl, but Hope kissed me instead.
So I groaned into her.
I hugged her. I loved her. I came for her.
And I poured everything I was into her hands, knowing all along I’d lived a half-life, a broken life, and after this…I’d have no life at all.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Jacob
* * * * * *
EVEN EXHAUSTED—IN mind, body, and spirit—I couldn’t sleep.
Lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, I re-lived being inside Hope until I grew hard all over again.
I was no longer a virgin.
After we finished, we’d shared the tiny cold-water shower, skirted around each other with timid smiles and worried words, then climbed into bed to rest.
I’d steeled myself against the torture of cuddling with her, knowing I wouldn’t be able to ever let her go if she curled into me, trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms, and dreamed beside me of a happier future.
But my fears were for nothing because she kissed me gently, then rolled onto her side, facing away as if this whole evening had been as overwhelming for her as it had been for me.