Worship Him

16. Adam

16

ADAM

I ’m not sure how I feel about holding Destiny after so long, but she looked so broken and fragile, I couldn’t resist.

Having her in my arms feels so foreign but also so perfectly natural.

When we pull away from the hug, our eyes lock. There's an unspoken understanding between us, an undeniable pull that draws us together.

In a split second, our lips meet in a passionate and urgent kiss.

Destiny's hands tangle in my hair as I pull her closer. I can feel her heart racing against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own. The storm outside rages on, but in this moment, all that matters is the desire between us.

Without breaking the kiss, I almost lead her towards our old bedroom, the one we used to share before everything fell apart. But I catch myself and redirect us to one of the guest rooms instead.

It's where I've been sleeping and doesn't feel quite right, but it will have to do for now.

Mother Nature’s rampage outside is nothing compared to the tempest raging within these four walls.

I kick the guest room door shut behind us, the sound like a wordless punctuation in the quiet house.

Her eyes are on fire, a mirror of the tumultuous emotions churning inside me. This isn't tenderness. It's a wildfire, consuming every ounce of reason and restraint.

"You drive me insane," I growl, my hands fisting in her hair, pulling her into a bruising kiss. Her fingers clutch at my shirt, a silent plea for more, for harder, for everything we've held back.

"Adam, we—" she starts, but I cut her off, my mouth crashing down on hers with a ferocity that brooks no argument. This isn't about talking; it's about action, about feeling something other than the betrayal that's been gnawing at me.

Her hands push against my chest, but it's a half-hearted attempt at resistance at best. I back her up against the wall, my body pinning hers, leaving no room for escape. "This is happening," I growl against her lips, and I feel her surrender in the way her body sags against mine.

"Damn you, Adam," she murmurs, but there's no heat behind her words, only a raw need that matches my own.

Our clothes are a hindrance, a barrier that needs to be torn down. I yank her shirt over her head, my hands rough as they explore the familiar curves of her body.

She's not the same woman I married—she's stronger, more resilient—but her responses are etched into my memory, as ingrained as my own heartbeat.

I watch as she fumbles with my belt, her fingers frustratingly slow against the leather. I bat her hands away, taking over the task with swift efficiency. My pants hit the floor, followed shortly by hers.

There's no time for gentle exploration, no room for tender caresses.

I shove her against the wall again, the impact reverberating through both of us. Her gasp fuels me, drives me to claim her mouth with a savagery that borders on pain.

Her legs wrap around my waist, the heat between us scorching, even through the remaining layers of fabric that are still too damn much.

Every touch, every bite, every harsh pant serves as a reminder of what we've been denying ourselves.

It's animalistic, primal, a frenzy that blots out the world beyond this room.

More clothing is torn, buttons scatter, and then there's nothing but skin on skin. Her nails rake down my back, a stinging reminder of her presence, of her need.

I lift her higher, her body sliding against mine, seeking friction, seeking completion.

"Yes," she hisses as I enter her with one brutal thrust. Her muscles clench around me, a tight, hot glove that threatens to unravel my control.

There's no finesse, no careful rhythm; we're two hurricanes colliding, a maelstrom of passion and fury and unspoken regret.

Our bodies slam together in the darkness, the sound a pleasurable testament to the storm we're riding out.

Her cries fill the room, a siren's song that drives me faster, harder.

The world outside ceases to exist; there are no past mistakes, no future consequences. There's only the here and now, the feel of Destiny's body locked with mine, the slap of skin against skin, the taste of her on my tongue.

I'm relentless, a man possessed, and she meets me thrust for thrust, her own hunger as desperate as my own.

"Don't. Ever. Keep anything from me again," I demand between clenched teeth, the words punctuated by the force of our bodies meeting.

She nods, her eyes locked on mine, wide and wild and beautiful. "I promise," she breathes out, her voice a hoarse whisper that I feel right down to my soul.

I bite down on the soft flesh of her neck, the taste of sweat sending a shiver of delight down my spine. I want to mark her, to brand her as mine in a way that no one can ever deny.

She's chanting my name like a mantra, a plea, and a prayer wrapped into one. I increase my pace, driven by a primal need to possess, to dominate.

The world narrows to the sensations coursing through us. The sweet friction, the rush of blood, the sounds of our passion echoing off the walls.

We're a tangle of limbs, a study in contrasts—the hard lines of my body against the soft curves of hers.

Her release hits her hard, her back arching as she cries out my name. The sound of it, the raw need in her voice, triggers my own undoing.

I thrust into her one final time, burying myself to the hilt as I spill into her with a guttural groan.

For a moment, we're suspended in time, our bodies shuddering with the aftershocks of our climax.

As our breathing slows and the sweat cools on our skin, reality begins to creep back in. I lower her to the ground, her legs unsteady, and she sags against me, her forehead resting on my chest.

Neither of us speaks. Words would only shatter the fragile truce we've wordlessly agreed upon.

What just happened between us... it changes things, but how, I'm not yet sure.

We walk over to the bed and get under the covers, the chill of the night finally catching up to our naked bodies.

The storm outside has quieted somewhat, but I can't shake the feeling that we're far from clear skies.

Still, I feel myself relax and sink a little more into the bed. The room smells like us—a mix of sweat and sex, raw and intoxicating. I breathe it in, remembering that this smell used to linger in our bedroom often before things went wrong between us.

We lie there, the silence between us not uncomfortable, but heavy with the remnants of our passion and the unspoken words that linger like smoke after a fire. The occasional creak of the house settling is the only sound that dares to intrude upon our solitude.

I can't help but think of the irony; the world outside believes itself to be in the aftermath of chaos, while here, in the eye of our personal hurricane, we've found a moment of peace.

She shifts, her head finding its way to my chest, her hair a dark, curly halo against my skin. I don't move to embrace her; I'm not sure what this is, what it means for us.

It's not tenderness that has us entwined like this. It's the aftermath, the calm that follows the furious downpour.

Destiny's eyelids flutter, fighting the pull of sleep that's threatening to claim her. I know the feeling well; the adrenaline that fueled our frenzy is ebbing away, leaving exhaustion in its wake, but something prevents me from sinking into that calm state.

Is it the uncertainty of what lies ahead? Or perhaps not knowing exactly where we stand. The loss of control is unfamiliar and I don’t like it.

I lie there, wide awake, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The scent of her hair fills my senses, a mix of jasmine and the faint, indescribable essence that is uniquely her.

It's a smell that's both foreign and intimately familiar, a reminder of what we once were and what we might never be again.

The weight of the day settles on my shoulders, the gravity of our situation impossible to ignore. The divorce, the company, the secret that's no longer a secret—it's a lot to process.

But in this moment, with her breath syncing with mine, the world and all its complications seem to fade into the background.

The clock on the nightstand ticks away the seconds, the sound loud in the quiet room. I watch the shadows dance across the ceiling, the residual glow from the storm outside casting a soft, ethereal light.

I know that tomorrow will bring a new set of challenges, a fresh battle to be fought. I also know I should get up, put some distance between us. But I can't bring myself to move, to break this spell of stillness that has fallen over us.

So, I lie there, listening to the rhythm of her breathing, feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine.

The night wears on, and despite my body’s best efforts, sleep finally claims me, pulling me under into a world where everything is simple and the only thing that matters is the feel of her body next to mine.