Chapter 12 #2
"It's good." She smiles, a flash of something almost shy crossing her features before the heat returns. "Very, very good." She leans down to kiss me, and this time it's slower, deeper, her tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that mimics what our bodies crave.
My hands slide under her shirt, tracing the soft skin of her back, feeling her shiver at my touch. When I reach the clasp of her bra, I hesitate again.
She said just kissing, and this has gone from zero to sixty, our wanting bodies slamming the gas without us stopping to think if it's a good idea or not.
"Yes," she whispers against my lips, arching slightly to press more firmly into my touch. "Please."
With practiced ease, I unhook her bra, then slide my hands around to cup her breasts through her shirt.
She moans, her hips rolling against mine in a way that makes me see stars.
I can feel the hard peaks of her nipples against my palms, and I brush my thumbs over them, drawing another moan from her lips.
"More," she gasps, her hips moving in an instinctive rhythm. "Domhn, please."
She's fire in my arms, burning so bright it almost hurts to look at her. I slide one hand back down to her hip, guiding her movements, setting a pace that has us both panting. Even through our clothes, the friction is maddeningly exquisite.
"Anna," I groan, my head falling back against the chair as pleasure builds at the base of my spine. "God, love, you're going to kill me."
She laughs, breathless and wild, her hair falling around us like a curtain. Creating a private world of just the two of us. Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging in just enough to send sparks of sharp pleasure-pain through me.
"Stay with me," she whispers, her voice taking on an edge of desperation. "Stay with me, Domhn. I need it to be you and me."
I understand what she's asking. She's fighting against the pull of dissociation to stay present, fighting to keep Mads at bay. My heart aches for her even as my body burns.
"I'm right here," I promise, one hand coming up to cup her face. "I'm with you. Only you."
She nods, her eyes locked on mine as we move together. The fire crackles beside us, warming our skin. I can see sweat beading on her brow and on the exposed column of her throat. I lean forward to taste it, to trace the line of her neck with my tongue.
She gasps, her movements faltering for a moment before picking up again with renewed fervor. Her thighs tighten around mine, her body trembling with need.
"Domhn," she breathes, and it's half plea, half prayer. "I want—I need—"
And then I see it happen—the slight glaze in her eyes, the momentary disconnect, like she's suddenly watching herself from a distance.
I've started to recognize the signs.
"Anna," I say, my voice gentle but firm, anchoring her. "Anna, stay with me."
She blinks rapidly, her movements stuttering. "I, I'm trying—" Her voice catches, her hands gripping my shoulders so tightly I'm sure there will be marks. "I want this. I want this so much."
"I know, love," I murmur even as I breathe out harshly to cool the lightning trying to light down my spine and out my cock. I stroke her hair, trying to ground her. "You're doing so well. Just breathe with me."
She takes a shuddering breath, then another, her eyes never leaving mine.
I can see the struggle playing out across her features—the desire to continue, the fear of losing herself.
My cock strains with the lack of release, but I don't want it if it's not without her.
I'll enjoy the slight pain if it means keeping this connection with her.
"Talk to me," she pleads, her voice small. "Keep talking. Your voice helps."
"I'm here." I just manage to keep my voice steady. "I'm not going anywhere. You're safe, Anna. You're safe with me."
She nods, her breathing slowing, but I can still see the internal battle raging. She tries to roll her hips again, and my cock leaps for her. But her movements are stiff now. Self-conscious.
"We can stop," I say gently. "It's okay."
"No," she says fiercely, frustration flashing in her eyes. "No, I don't want to stop. I'm so tired of stopping. Of never getting to finish what we start."
I understand her frustration all too well. It mirrors my own, though I'd never admit it to her. I'd never add that weight to what she's already carrying.
"Maybe we can try something else," I suggest, stroking her back. "Something slower."
She shakes her head, tears of frustration gathering in her eyes. "I want to try again," she insists. Her hands move to the hem of her own shirt, starting to lift it.
I catch her wrists gently. "Anna, love, look at me."
She does, her eyes swimming with unshed tears, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
"Let's stay here," I suggest. "Right here, by the fire. Let's not rush. There's no reason to."
She hesitates, then nods, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. I shift her slightly in my lap, positioning her more comfortably, then brush her hair back from her face. My painfully hard cock begins to tame to something more manageable.
"Close your eyes," I murmur. "Just feel."
She complies, her lashes fluttering shut. I lean forward and press my lips to her forehead, her temple, then the curve of her cheek. Soft, reverent kisses that have nothing to do with lust and everything to do with love.
Fuck, I love her so much. I want her to feel nothing but safety in my arms now. She was so brave, pushing so far. There was no need, but I don't know how to make her understand that.
Gradually, I feel her relax in my arms, melting against me. I continue my gentle exploration, kissing the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth, her chin. She sighs, a small smile curving her lips.
"That's it," I whisper. "Just stay with me."
I trail my fingertips up her arms. Over her shoulders. Down her back.
Not seeking, just touching.
Reminding her that she's in her body.
That she is safe. That she is loved.
Her hands rest against my chest, her touch light, almost tentative now. The fire crackles beside us, its warmth enveloping us like a cocoon.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, her eyes still closed.
"No," I say firmly. "No apologies. Not for this."
She opens her eyes then, and they're clearer now, more present. "Kiss me again," she says softly. "Slow this time."
I do, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss that gradually deepens. She sighs against my mouth, her body softening. Yielding. Her hands slide up to cup my face, her touch tender.
When we break apart, she rests her forehead against mine, her breath warm on my lips.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"For what?"
"For not giving up on me. For staying."
I pull back enough to look her in the eyes. "I'll never give up on you, Anna. I am always yours."
She smiles, her eyes bright with emotion. Then she shifts, curling against my chest with her head tucked under my chin. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, feeling her heartbeat against mine.
She takes a shaky breath. "Thank you. For being patient. For understanding."
"Always," I promise, and mean it.
"I have a session with Dr. Ezra tomorrow," she says after a while. "I'll talk to him about this. Maybe he'll have some ideas."
"Whatever you need," I tell her. "I'm not going anywhere."
She tilts her head up to look at me, her eyes soft with something that makes my chest ache. "I know. That's what makes this bearable." She pauses, then adds, "I want you to know that I don't mind. About you and Mads. I want you to have that. To have what you need."
I press my lips to her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair.
Does she think I need sex? As much as I think I understand her, I still can't tell if she's just being self-sacrificial when she tells me to sleep with her while she's Mads.
"What I need is you," I say in a way I hope she really hears.
I can make do with my goddamn hand in the shower if I have to.
I can't stand hurting her. "In whatever way you can be here with me. "
"You have me," she whispers. "All of me. Even the parts that are still figuring things out. And you have her. Please. Take what we can give you. It's important to me. She's part of me, too. Will you?"
Her head stays pressed against my chest, and I frown. She's so stubborn. But why is she so insistent I have sex with Mads again? Is it because she doesn't believe me when I say I can go without? Or is there some other reason I can't see?
We stay like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, the morning sun spilling across the couch, painting us in warm light. There's a peace and togetherness to this moment that feels just as intimate as anything else could have been.
But even as I hold her, I feel her pulling away. And I have the gut feeling that she's keeping secrets from me.
"All right," I finally whisper. If I can't pry any secrets out of her, maybe I can get them out of Madison.