Chapter Five #2
Fear shot through me. Sharp and cold, like ice water flooding my veins.
No. No, she couldn’t leave. Not again. Not when I had just found her.
Not after all these months of searching, of wondering, of lying awake at night replaying our last conversation over and over in my mind.
I couldn’t let her slip away. I couldn’t watch her disappear and spend the rest of my life wondering if I had really seen her or if my mind had finally cracked under the weight of longing.
I moved fast, closing the distance between us in three long strides.
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
I grabbed her, pulled her into my arms, and held her so tight I thought I might break her.
My hands trembled as they found their familiar places—one tangled in her hair, the other pressed against the small of her back.
But I couldn’t let go. Not now. Not after everything.
“God, I’ve missed you,” I whispered into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo—that same lavender and jasmine that had haunted my dreams for months. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve protected you better.”
My voice broke, cracking under the weight of all the words I had been holding back as I kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger there for a moment.
Her temple. Her cheek. The corner of her jaw.
Every inch of her face like I was trying to memorize her all over again, like she might disappear if I stopped touching her.
Like this moment might shatter, and I would wake up alone again.
“I love you,” I breathed against her skin, my voice barely a whisper. “I love you so much. More than anything in this world. I promise I’ll do better this time. I’ll protect you with everything I have. I won’t let anything happen to you again. Never again. I swear it on my life.”
My hands trembled as they cradled her face, my thumbs gently tracing the curves of her cheekbones.
I found her mouth and kissed her deeply, desperately, pouring everything I had into it.
All the love, all the grief, all the longing I had been drowning in for months.
Every sleepless night, every moment of agony, every prayer I had whispered into the darkness.
She tasted like honey and something floral—jasmine, maybe, or lavender. Different from what I remembered, but I didn’t care. The details didn’t matter. She was here. She was real. She was in my arms, warm and solid and alive.
I couldn’t control myself. My kisses grew more urgent, more possessive, as if I could somehow anchor her to this moment, to me, through sheer force of will.
I lowered her to the grass slowly, reverently, my hands trembling as they slid down her sides.
The cool blades pressed against my jeans as I kneeled beside her, and I could feel the earth beneath us—solid, real, grounding me in this moment that felt like a dream.
The night air was thick with the scent of jasmine and damp soil, wrapping around us like a living thing.
My fingers found the hem of her nightgown, and I pushed it up slowly, revealing inch after inch of pale skin that glowed silver in the moonlight.
Her thighs. The curve of her hips. The soft plane of her stomach.
Every bit of her was perfect, unmarred and luminous, and I couldn’t stop touching her.
My palms slid over her skin like I was trying to prove she was real.
She shivered beneath my touch, and I watched, mesmerized, as goosebumps rippled across her flesh.
My breath caught in my throat. The warmth of her body contrasted sharply with the cool night air, and I found myself drawn closer, unable to resist the pull of her presence.
Her eyes met mine in the darkness, reflecting the moon above, and in them I saw everything I had been searching for.
She didn’t stop me. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t even flinch. She just looked up at me with those wide, luminous eyes, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths that I could feel against my own body.
“I need you,” I whispered, my voice breaking with raw emotion and desperation. “I need to feel you. Please. I need to know you’re real.” I needed the confirmation that this wasn’t another dream, another cruel trick my mind was playing on me in the darkness.
I kissed her again, deeper this time, pouring everything I had into it.
All my fear, my longing, my desperate hope.
My tongue slid against hers as my hands roamed her body with increasing urgency, mapping every curve and contour like I was trying to memorize her.
I cupped her breast through the thin, silky fabric of her nightgown, felt her nipple harden beneath my palm, and groaned into her mouth at the sensation.
God, she was so responsive. So alive. So incredibly here.
And I needed more. Needed all of her to chase away the ghosts that haunted me.
I pulled back just enough to yank the nightgown over her head, tossing the delicate fabric aside without a second thought, and then she was bare beneath me.
All soft curves and smooth skin bathed in the silvery moonlight.
I stared at her, drinking in every detail like a man dying of thirst. The generous swell of her breasts, rising and falling with each quickened breath.
The elegant dip of her waist that curved into the flare of her hips.
The way her hair fanned out around her head like a dark halo against the soft, dewy grass, framing her flushed face.
“You’re so beautiful,” I breathed, my voice rough and barely above a whisper. “So fucking beautiful.” My words felt inadequate, insufficient to capture what I was seeing, what I was feeling.
I lowered my mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking at the tender skin there, tasting the salt of her skin and breathing in her intoxicating scent.
She gasped, the sound going straight through me, and her hands came up to grip my shoulders desperately, and I felt her nails dig into my skin.
The small bite of pain grounded me, anchored me to this moment, reminded me this was real. She was real, and she was here with me.
I kissed my way down her body, lingering at her collarbone, tracing the delicate ridge with my lips, then moving lower to the valley between her breasts.
I paused there, breathing her in, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath my mouth.
Then I shifted to the soft underside of one breast, placing slow, deliberate kisses there before I took her nipple into my mouth.
She arched beneath me, as a soft moan escaped her lips, and the sound went straight through me to my cock.
I sucked harder, as my tongue swirled around the hardened peak, teasing it, savoring the way she responded to every movement.
My hands were everywhere—sliding over her ribs, feeling each curve and dip, gripping her hips with a possessiveness I couldn’t control, tracing the elegant curve of her waist with reverent fingers.
I couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t touch her enough.
Every inch of her skin felt like a revelation, like something sacred I had been denied for far too long and was finally being allowed to worship again.
My fingers memorized her contours, the silky texture of her skin, the way she trembled under my touch.
Each gasp, each shiver, each whispered breath only made me more desperate to explore every part of her.
I kissed my way down her stomach, taking my time, savoring every inch of her soft skin.
My lips trailed over her navel, lingering there for a moment before continuing lower.
My hands slid along her thighs, spreading them wider, and she let me, offering no resistance.
She trembled beneath me as her body responded to every touch, every kiss.
Her breath came in soft, broken gasps that filled the quiet night, and I could feel the heat radiating from her core, drawing me in like a flame.
But I needed more. This wasn’t enough—not nearly enough. I needed to feel her against me, skin to skin, nothing between us. No barriers, no fabric, no distance. Just her and me, completely bare and vulnerable with each other.
I sat back on my heels and fumbled with my jeans, my hands shaking so badly I could barely work the button. When I finally freed myself, my cock was hard and aching, and I groaned at the relief of being out of the confining denim.
I settled between her thighs, my hands gripping her hips firmly, and I looked down at her with an intensity that made my chest ache.
She was spread out beneath me like an offering, her skin glowing soft and luminous in the pale moonlight streaming through the window, her eyes wide and dark and fixed on my face with an expression of complete trust and longing.
Her hair fanned out across the ground like a dark halo, and her lips were parted slightly, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
“I love you,” I whispered, my voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much.” The words felt inadequate, too small to contain everything I felt for her in that moment—the overwhelming tenderness, the desperate need, the certainty that she was everything I’d ever wanted.
I positioned my cock at her entrance, feeling the slick heat of her pussy against the head of my dick, and I had to close my eyes against the overwhelming sensation.
It had been so long. So fucking long since I had felt this—felt her—and I was terrified I would lose control before I even got inside her.
I pushed forward slowly, reverently, feeling her body open for me inch by inch. She was tight. So goddamned tight it almost hurt, but she was wet and warm and perfect, and I groaned as I sank deeper.