12. Light My Heart
SOUNDTRACK: Soul on Fire by Benj Heard
~ brIDGET ~
Water dripped off Sam's face and shoulders, from little tines of his hair that stuck in different directions because he’d been running his hands through it. But his eyes… his eyes were wide and earnest and determined.
He stared down at me, the moonlight shining on his wet skin and shadowing his muscles as he held my face and searched my eyes, whispering the words I’d always needed, but never felt safe enough to ask for until he started giving them without being asked.
It wasn’t until now that I could let myself hope that he wasn’t going to give up after this.
“I love you,” he said hoarsely. “I will always love you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Then he kissed me like I was water in the desert.
The relief that broke in my chest was so consuming, I sobbed. I couldn’t help it. As desperate as I was to kiss him, my kiss was salty with tears and my breath rushed out of me in hitching, sobs.
And Sam only held me tighter.
He pulled me into his chest, held my face, kissed me like I might flee. Which, I supposed, given everything he’d ever seen from me, was a valid conclusion. But I didn’t want to go anywhere.
I stood in water so high my breasts floated when they weren’t pressed against him.
I’d been walking through a fog of sheer terror since I handed him that journal, but it was all seeping away now—in his arms, in his kiss, in the water that surrounded us both… as if it ran in my veins, but leached out of my pores and into his skin, into the water, away from me.
My heart slammed against my ribs and my breath was harsh, but all I could do was hold onto him, keep my arms around his ribs, cling, and take his kiss.
His hands moved from my face, to bury in my hair and pull my head back, tilt me to take the kiss deeper—and I let him move me gladly. I’d do anything he asked, because he’d saved me. I knew it.
He tore out of the kiss for a moment, but only to meet my eyes and stare down at me, his eyes glittering, reflecting the moonlight on the water as he searched me.
“I want you, Bridget. I want you now . But if you need to talk, I can wait—”
“No,” I breathed and shook my head as best I could with his grip on my hair. “No, Sam… I just need you.”
“Thank you, God,” he groaned, then descended on me, and the whole world disappeared.
Water rippled against my skin, sending tingles up and down my spine. Sam’s kiss was fervent—an offering, and a demand. I took it and gave it back, and let myself go. Let go of everything. All of it.
Oh, in the back of mind, I knew I’d never walk a day without carrying some of this with me. But in that moment, knowing he’d read all of that and he was here, as desperate for me as I was for him, it set my soul on fire. It sent my heart up in flames—and that pumped the heat through my veins until I was gasping, and sucking his tongue, clambering up his body, and trembling with need.
Sam’s hands were everywhere—stroking, gripping, holding me—but he never allowed even a sliver of that chill water to slip between us. He held me against him so tightly it was difficult to breathe, and all I felt was love.
I lost track of hands on skin and fingers in hair, I forgot about the rush of breath and the slide of limbs. I could feel him. His need for me, his desire for me. The echo of his love through that inexplicable bond we shared—the part of me that had known from the moment I met him that he was for me.
It defied definition, but it had held my heart together through some of the darkest moments of my life since my father’s utter destruction of it.
Sam kissed the tears away, murmuring over my lips how much he loved me, vowing never to leave, vowing to protect, and it only made my heart expand.
As he dragged me backwards and onto him, as our bodies entwined, the chill of the water met with the heat of our skins, and the blaze of our love, my tears faded to awe.
And when he sat back in the water and pulled me onto him, entered me, when he slid deep inside me and my mouth dropped open, only for him to plunge his tongue to tangle with mine as deeply as our bodies united, he filled me. I was finally safe —heart, mind, body, and soul. No part of me at risk, no danger imminent, nothing left alone.
It echoed the promises he’d whispered. It affirmed all the ways he’d given himself to me, and all the vows he made for the future. My mind wanted to argue, but his presence here, now, with me was undeniable.
“Sam,” I breathed.
He groaned and moved within me, his strength such a marvel to me as we rippled together, the water dancing on our skins—and still he gave me no gaps, no room between us. We undulated as one. And yet, as tender and sweet as he’d taken me, my body was alive. Every hair stood up to meet his touch. Every pulse sought him. And my heart grew again.
I’d wrapped my arms around his neck and when his pleasure grew, and his groans with it, I buried my face under his throat, tasting that rough, stubbled skin with lips and tongue, letting my teeth scrape on it, demanding that he remain this close forever.
He breathed my name and hooked one hand over my shoulder, pulling me down onto him, and that pleasure that built within me in waves, surged forward—higher and higher as our bodies demanded more.
I couldn’t make words. Couldn’t form thought. Could only feel— and feel him.
There was no darkness or night. No history, or story before this moment.
As my body stretched for that peak, as his fingers clawed down my back, and he called for me with a tortured joy, I threw my head back and sobbed his name, over and over, crying it to the sky, making it a prayer.
Because he was the only thing I knew. The only safe place. The only place where land didn’t shift under my feet.
I felt the tears squeezing from my eyes, but didn’t care. I was flying—my body quivering, readying. And Sam shook under me.
Then his hands tore out of the water, splashing as he grabbed for my hair, pulled my head back and gave a guttural rasp of my name.
“Bridget! Look at me!”
My eyes flew open to find his, wide and dark, staring, drinking in my soul.
And in that second he reached my heart and grabbed it, held it, cradled it, and soothed it. I cried out as my orgasm detonated, rushing from where we joined, out through my bloodstream to every extremity, raising goosebumps and washing up and down my body in tingles that threatened to flay my skin off my bones in the most delicious way.
Sam’s face—haggard, handsome, frantic— quivered as he roared for me and that connection between us crackled and zinged. I heard the high keen echoing over the water’s rush and ripple, but didn’t realize it was me until my body shook, then sagged. All the energy, all the fear, all the unknown finally leaving me so that I sprawled over him, my chin on his shoulder, my arms around him, and my chest pressing against his as he held me.
“Bridget… Bridget, are you okay?” he panted, trying to tip my head up, but I kept myself clinging to him and resisted. Yet, I nodded against his shoulder and squeezed my eyes tightly closed to push out the last of the tears.
“Yes, Sam. I just need to be here with you. Just like this,” I whispered. “Just… hold me please.”
And because he was fucking perfect. He did.