19. Chapter Eighteen #2
"Spread your legs," I murmur against her ear, pebbling more kisses down her neck. "Time to clean you up properly."
"Beau—"
"Trust me."
She does, bracing herself against the shower wall. I drop to my knees in front of her, and the sight that greets me makes my mouth water.
Her pussy is swollen and pink from being thoroughly fucked, her clit still throbbing with aftershocks. My cum is slowly dripping from her, thick white ribbons sliding down her inner thighs, mixing with her own arousal in the most erotic display I've ever seen.
"Look at you," I growl, mesmerized. "Look how perfectly you're marked. How full of me you are."
I slide two fingers deep inside her, feeling how slick and stretched she is, gathering the evidence of our earlier release. She whimpers at the intrusion, still sensitive, and I can feel more of my seed coating my fingers as I slowly withdraw them.
"Open," I command, bringing my cum-slicked fingers to her lips.
Her eyes lock with mine as she parts her lips, taking my fingers into her mouth without hesitation. The sight of her tongue swirling around my digits, tasting our combined essence, makes my cock twitch back to life.
"How do we taste together?" I ask, my voice rough with renewed arousal.
She releases my fingers with a soft pop that might just be the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen.
"Perfect," she whispers. "We taste perfect together."
Her eyes go wide, but she doesn't hesitate to finish the job she started. Her tongue darts out again, licking my fingers clean.
"Good girl," I growl, sliding my fingers deeper into her mouth.
Fuck it. I can't resist. I need to taste it myself, need to clean every drop of our combined essence from her perfect pussy.
I drop back to my knees, spreading her thighs wider, and run my tongue through her swollen folds. The taste explodes across my tongue… her sweet arousal mixed with the salt of my cum, the most intoxicating flavor I've ever experienced.
"Fuck," I growl against her skin, lapping at every trace of our juices. "You're right. We are fucking perfect together."
She whimpers above me, her hands tangling in my hair as I worship her with my tongue, cleaning every inch of her thoroughly.
I can't get enough of the taste, the proof that she's mine, that I've marked her inside and out.
"Beau," she gasps, her hips rolling against my mouth. "Oh God..."
I lose myself between her thighs, savoring every drop, every sound she makes, the way her body responds to my tongue.
When I finally stand, pulling her back into my arms, I feel something shift in my chest.
"I love you," I tell her, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
"I love you too," she whispers back. "So much it scares me sometimes."
I nod and just hold her in complete silence… because I understand that fear. Love makes you vulnerable. Gives you something precious that can be taken away.
But as I hold her under the hot water, her body soft and pliant against mine, I let myself believe that maybe this time will be different.
Maybe this time, I get to keep something good.
We dry off and soon we're laying in bed, utterly satisfied and complete spent.
Molly curls against me, her head resting on my chest, one leg thrown over mine, her breathing already deep and even.
She looks peaceful in a way I've never seen before—no tension in her shoulders, no worry lines around her eyes.
Just perfect contentment.
"This is nice," she murmurs sleepily. "Falling asleep with you. Waking up with you. I could get used to this."
"You will," I promise, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She falls asleep within minutes, her body going completely limp against mine. I should follow her into unconsciousness— we've had a big day, an incredible night, and tomorrow we'll start planning this new life together.
But sleep won't come.
Instead, I lie there staring at the ceiling, my mind racing like it does every night when the sun goes down.
In my arms is the most incredible woman I've ever known.
She's chosen me, chosen this life, chosen to stay.
I have a job offer to consider from Jamie, too. It's an offer that's been there for years, and is always there for whenever I feel ready to integrate back into the world.
Suddenly, I've got this future that looks brighter than anything I've ever imagined.
It's perfect.
Too perfect.
The thought creeps in like poison, spreading through my chest until I can barely breathe. Nothing in my life has ever worked out this well.
Which means something's going to destroy it.
That's how it works for men like me. We don't get happy endings. We don't get the girl and the future and the perfect life. We get broken, and we break others, and eventually everything we touch turns to ash.
Molly shifts in her sleep, making a soft sound that's too sweet and innocent for a dark soul like me, but my arm tightens around her involuntarily, like I can't afford to let go.
Don't think like that, I tell myself. Don't let those demons back in.
But they won't stop. They never do.
Deep in my chest, a familiar ache is spreading. The same one I felt in Afghanistan when everything went sideways. The same one I felt when I came home and realized I didn't fit anywhere anymore.
The ache that tells me I'm about to lose everything that matters.
Again.
In my experience, when things seem too good to be true, it's because they are. And this—Molly, this life, this happiness I feel inside my heart—is definitely too good to be true.
I close my eyes and try to focus on her breathing, on the warmth of her body, on the fact that she's here.
For now.