Chapter 6 Tag #2
Her confession staggered me. This would be her first time.
Her first everything. A memory she’d carry for the rest of her life, and I was the one who would give it to her.
Not someone who could promise her forever.
Not someone who could give her the future she deserved.
Me. A man so damaged by his parents’ toxic marriage that he’d sworn off love entirely.
I should stop. Every shred of honor I possessed demanded I stop, that I protect her from this mistake, from the inevitable heartbreak.
But I searched her face for doubt, for hesitation, for anything that would give me the strength to be the better man and end this. All I saw was certainty. Want. Trust. Even love, as much as I wanted to deny it.
And I was too selfish, too weak, too desperate for her to do the right thing.
“This will hurt,” I warned, my voice breaking on the words.
“I know and I trust you.” She pulled me down for a kiss, soft this time, almost tender.
I kissed her deeply, trying to tell her without words everything I couldn’t say aloud. Then I moved forward again, as slowly as I could manage, watching for any sign of pain. I saw the moment it hit—her breath caught, her body tensed, and her fingers dug into my biceps.
“Breathe, love,” I whispered against her lips. “I’ve got you.”
I held absolutely motionless though, every muscle in my body screaming at me to move. She was so tight around me, so warm, and it took every ounce of control not to thrust deeper.
Her body relaxed gradually, adjusting. Every instinct screamed at me to claim, to take, but this wasn’t about me. This was about her, about making this good for her, about giving her something worth the wait, even if I couldn’t give her forever.
“Okay?” I managed to ask when her eyes met mine.
“More than okay. Is it always—does it always feel like this?” The wonder I heard in her voice made me want to roar.
“No,” I admitted. “It’s never been like this.”
And it hadn’t. During all my controlled encounters, brief liaisons that never lasted past dawn, it had never felt like…coming home. Like completion. Like finding something I hadn’t known I was missing.
She was silk and fire wrapped around me, her body slowly accepting mine. The sensation was overwhelming—not just physical, though that alone threatened to undo me—but the emotional weight of it. This meant something. This changed everything, even if I couldn’t let it.
She moved against me experimentally, and I nearly lost all control. “Please, Tag. I need—”
I started slow, pulling out slightly before pressing forward again. Each movement was deliberate as I fought every instinct that demanded I take her harder and faster.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I said against her mouth.
“It’s not enough,” she gasped, her hips lifting to meet mine. “More, Tag. Please.”
I shifted the angle, and she cried out.
“There,” she moaned. “Right there.”
Soon, she moved with me as her initial tension was replaced by growing pleasure.
Her soft gasps turned to moans that I swallowed with kisses.
The heat between us built, our bodies slick with sweat despite the cold air.
The fire crackled beside us, but I barely heard it over the sound of her breathing, the small sounds she made, and the way she said my name like a prayer.
I reached between us, finding her sensitive bundle of nerves, and circled it with my thumb. She keened and arched off the bed.
“That’s it,” I encouraged. “Let go, love.”
“Tag,” she said my name over and over. “Oh God, Tag—”
When she came apart beneath me, my name on her lips, her body clenching around me, pulsing and tight and perfect, I followed her over the edge, pulling out before I came, at the last possible second, finishing on her stomach with a groan that came from somewhere deep in my chest, wishing so hard that I could stay buried in the woman I’d tried so hard not to love.
For several seconds, neither of us moved. I was braced above her, both of us breathing hard as the reality of what we’d done settled over us like a blanket.
“Stay here,” I said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling away. Guilt twisted in my gut when she winced, and I grabbed my discarded shirt to gently clean her stomach, then her thighs, noting the small amount of blood with a fresh wave of protective fury.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, my voice rougher than intended.
“No,” she said, reaching for me.
“Let me—” I began, but she pulled me down beside her.
“I’m fine, Tag. Better than fine.” She smiled, and it transformed her face. “That was…”
“Yeah,” I agreed, because there were no words adequate for what we’d experienced together.
Sweat cooled on our skin as we both fought to catch our breath. I pulled more of the heavy blankets over us, cocooning us in our own world.
She curled into my side, and her head found the spot on my chest that seemed made for her. Her fingers traced lazy patterns through the hair there.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
“No regrets,” she finally said, so quiet I almost missed it. “This is my choice. My memory to keep. Whatever happens when we leave here, I’ll have this.”
I understood what she was doing—protecting herself already, building walls against the inevitable pain, preparing for the end before we’d even had a middle. My arms tightened around her involuntarily, as if I could keep her through sheer force of will.
“Leila—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Don’t tell me pretty lies to make me feel better. Let me have this. It’s enough.”
But it wasn’t. Not even close.
Neither of us spoke of love. But it was there in the way she curled into me like she belonged there, in the way I held her like she might disappear if I loosened my grip.
The truth settled into my bones with absolute certainty. I was deeply, irrevocably taken with Leila Nassar.
The realization terrified me—this was exactly what I’d sworn never to let happen. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t let go, couldn’t do anything but hold her and accept this truth even if it changed nothing.
Leila raised her head. “Whatever you’re thinking or planning, whatever noble sacrifice you’re contemplating—don’t.”
I nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She settled against my chest, and I held her, the woman I couldn’t resist, and tried not to think about how empty my arms would be when she was gone.