Let Go #3
She moves lower still, wrapping her warm mouth around me. It’s a slow and torturous torment. Her hands anchor on my thighs as she coaxes a heavy and agonizingly slow release out of me, making me wait for every second.
The hours of the night bleed away into a haze of quiet touches and dark indulgences, until the shadow of the winter sky slowly begins to pale at the edges.
The generator skip is still there, a rhythmic hitch in the quiet room.
I lie on my side, holding Bella securely against my chest. My arm is wrapped tight around her waist, locking her small frame against my larger body. The heavy quilt is pulled over both of us, sealing in our heat against the draft that always creeps through the floorboards.
Bella’s breathing is slow and steady. She looks small, spooned against me in the blue shadow of the pre-dawn hours, the sharp lines of her counselor’s armor completely gone. Her shoulder rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm.
A quiet tenderness settles into my chest, heavy and solid. I’ve spent years white-knuckling my life, keeping everyone at arm’s length because I couldn’t survive another loss. I told myself that the shelter was a fortress, that the dogs were enough, that I didn’t need anything else.
But holding her, the warmth of her breath against my skin, I was lying to myself. The fortress is just a cage, and I don’t want to be in it anymore.
I brush a stray curl of hair away from her forehead, my thumb trailing down the soft line of her jaw.
The fear is still there, a sharp blade at the edge of my mind. She’s Jesse’s cousin. She’s the person who holds the future of this shelter in her hands. And she’s a city girl who has a life away from here.
“You’re quiet.” A soft breath tickles my chest.
“Just thinking.” I trace a slow line down her shoulder.
“About what?”
“About this room.” I tighten my arm around her, pulling her a fraction closer. “Last night.”
“Was amazing.” She lets out a tiny, soft laugh, her forehead pressing against my neck.
“Are you warm enough?” I kiss the crown of her head, the scent of her hair sweet in the cold room.
“Yes.” She goes quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing a slow circle over my heart. “Wyatt?”
“Yeah?”
“You loved him too.” Bella is silent, her hand resting flat over my heart.
“Jesse wanted this place to be a sanctuary. Not just for the dogs. For the handlers who couldn't find a way back. He thought if we could save the dogs, we could save the men who handled them.” I slide my hand down her back, tracing the line of her spine under the blanket.
“And you? What did you want?” She looks up at me, her eyes reflecting the dawn light.
I look into her dark eyes, the silver light of dawn revealing the vulnerability in them.
“I wanted to save Jesse. And I failed.”
The truth is raw and heavy between us.
“You didn’t fail.” She presses her palm to my cheek, her skin warm against my stubble. “You couldn’t carry that choice for him.”
“Maybe.”
“I miss him.” She curls into my embrace.
“I miss him, too.”
We lie in silence as the light outside shifts, the amber emergency glow fading as the winter dawn takes over. The windowpane is covered in thick, white frost, the patterns looking like ferns pressed against the glass.
Bella stirs, her body shifting under the heavy quilt as she stretches, her legs brushing against mine. The contact is warm, a sweet reminder of the night.
Instead of resting her cheek against my chest, she lifts herself up, crawling over me until she straddles my hips. She sits upright, her bare skin glowing in the pale dawn, her hair falling wild and tangled around her shoulders.
“What’s this? You’re sure you aren’t too sore?” My hands automatically find her waist, my thumbs rubbing circles against her hips.
Bella bites her lower lip, her gaze dropping to my chest. She leans down, pressing her warm lips to my collarbone, then trails a path of soft kisses down to my sternum.
My arousal spikes instantly, my length hardening beneath her, thick and demanding against the sheets. I chuckle, a low rumble in my chest, and wrap my hands behind my head on the pillow, letting her take over.
She lifts up slightly, her knees bracing on either side of my thighs, her fingers guiding the heavy tip of my length to notch it at her entrance. She pauses for a heartbeat, her eyes locked on mine, before she slowly lowers herself down.
A low groan catches in my throat as she takes me in, her heat wrapping around me like a glove.
I lie still, letting her take control of the pace.
The slow, rhythmic bounce of her breasts captures my focus as she moves, taking her pleasure from me with a quiet, determined focus.
The heat between us rises rapidly, the lazy morning friction building into a fierce, demanding burn.
She arches her back, her breath turning to short, ragged gasps as she moves faster, her hips rolling against mine.
The clench of her internal muscles is too much, shattering my restraint.
I lift my hips to meet her downward strokes, driving deep into her heat until we both shatter, a sudden, blinding release locking us together.
She collapses onto my chest, her breathing shallow and frantic, her skin hot and sweat-slicked against mine. We lie like that for a long minute, our hearts hammering against each other, before she slowly rolls over onto the mattress beside me.
She rests her head on the pillow, her voice dropping to a half-asleep whisper.
“I’m really sorry, Wyatt, but don’t have a choice. I have to sell.”
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
I go completely still, my hand stopping its slow movement on her back. The warmth in my chest vanishes, replaced by the familiar, cold weight of the wall snapping back into place.
I don’t pull away. I don’t move. But in the quiet, frosted room, the distance between us is wider than the mountain pass.