Finding Solace

I shut the blinds and crawl back into bed next to him. Careful not to wake him, I untangle the sheet and cover us both up. How does he sleep so soundly? Even after what could have been a horrific tragedy.

Is the peace that keeps his features gentler in the moonlight his acceptance that the world has bad people in it? He’s just learned to deal with it?

If he had his way, my life would remain pristine and untouched by the outside world. It’s good in theory but not realistic. I’m human, which means I’ll make bad choices . . . breaking up with Jason and trusting Cole hopefully the worst. It also means I have a chance to start over, clean the slate, and move on. Move on is what I intend to do. I feel so incredibly fortunate I get to move on with him this time.

I run my fingers lightly over his arms, appreciating the dip and rise of the muscles beneath. Is it wrong to want to get lost in something wonderful after the events from earlier?

His eyes open. “Delilah.” My name languidly rolls off his tongue as if we have more than one lifetime together. In no great hurry, his hand reaches for me.

“Make me forget for a little while.”

Our gazes stay locked long enough for him to read me like a book. He sits up and sweeps my hair behind my shoulder. His hand remains and slides down the strap of my pajamas. His lips are warm, wet, and delicious against my skin until I’m left with the cool air of the room breezing across the trail he’s left.

He removes my top, and when his palms cover my breasts—kneading and squeezing—I close my eyes, enjoying how my body responds to him. When he moves on top of me, I open for him, opening myself and letting him in—mind and soul.

And when he reaches for a condom, I cover his hand. “I need to feel all of you.”

I need his weight, his lips on mine, the rough tips of his fingers scratching across my skin. I want him to mark me as his. I don’t need to feel pretty to the world, to wear a tiara and smile anymore. I just want him to find me beautiful when I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is a mess. I only want to be how he sees me already, the real me—the bare and bold me. The me I am with him.

His mouth moves along my neck, kissing and sucking, and I feel every last one of them all the way to my core. My hand slides into the back of his hair, keeping his close, loving the feel of us together—ravaged and real, carnal and lustful.

He warms my neck as his fingers flame the fires of desire between my legs. “Take me,” I whisper in his ear.

“I want all of you, baby.”

“Take every last bit of me. I want to forget everything outside this room.”

The stubble of his beard has grown in overnight and scrapes against my chest, leaving me to crave more of the sting left behind. I love it. It’s not pretty, fitting for how I feel. He looks at me, his eyes gently drifting back and forth between mine, studying me. He says, “Sometimes the bad helps us remember the good. Let me be that good for you.” He is good, knowing exactly what I need and how I need to be loved.

“Leave no part of me untouched.”

He thrusts, his desire for me driving him deep inside me. My back arches and my head goes back, leaving my neck exposed. Jason pulls back and thrusts forward while his lips find my throat again.

Wrapping his arms under me, he uses my body against his, uses me for his pleasure while heightening mine. Our bodies start to sweat, sliding with ease and creating more. The sounds of our love are the only sounds I hear. The troubles from the night drift away as I quickly find the ecstasy in his arms instead.

“I love you,” I exhale with every breath. “I love you. I love you.”

Our bodies slow until our souls sigh in satisfaction. His head rests on my chest and I hold him there, never wanting to let go.

Time doesn’t stand still for us. It ticks by as we lose minutes or days, like the years we lost that we’ll never get back. This time, there’s no true loss because it’s time I’ve spent losing with him. Allowing the ugly of the day to fade away, together we find our own haven, and I’ve found solace in his arms.

Moving to lie next to me, his hand covers my cheeks. Despite the sheet being tangled again, he kisses me gently. With my lips against his, I kiss him back with such care for this man I love so deeply. I fall back on my pillow and weave my fingers through his hair. He knew what we were deciding when we didn’t use a condom. “Thank you.”