I sigh, and my hands land on the wall behind her, instead of grasping her like I want. I cage her in with my hands, our breathing mixing between us like a sweet perfume.
Her fingers move up in the empty space between us.
I stop breathing. My heart stops pumping. My eyes stop blinking. All that exists are her beautiful hands. I watch them, desperate to know what she is doing.
Gently, her thumb brushes against my bottom lip where I’m bleeding.
I can’t decide between closing my eyes to soak up her touch or keep them open to soak up her look. Ultimately, I decide to keep them open, because I can’t stand to not watch her every chance I get. It’s the right decision, because I see her pain at feeling things for me.
My breathing starts again, slow and steaming, like a caged bull preparing to take an arena and buck off his rider. That’s how I feel, ready to attack. Ready to go to war for this woman.
But my fighting abilities won’t make her love me. Rushing her won’t win her heart. I have to be patient. I have to help her heal and remind her that loving me is worth it. That even though I’ve hurt her, I know when both of our hearts are synched, when we both declare our love for each other at the same time, there is nothing that will stop us. That I will never hurt her or let any other man hurt her. That our connection will only amplify and that will be what keeps her safe.
I don’t know how to prove that to her. She’s been hurt so many times before, by me included. I understand she is leery of love. But love is what will save us in the end.
Her hand carefully retreats from my lip.
“A part of you still loves me,” I say.
She blinks but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t immediately say I’m wrong.
“I gave you part of my heart. And that part opened your heart to the idea of loving me again. I didn’t understand the love you felt for me before. But I do now. You might think it’s safer for you not to love me. But no matter how you fight your feelings, you will end up loving me. It’s inevitable. You can’t control your feelings any more than I can,” I say.
Her eyes bleed with pain and sorrow at my words. There is some reason she’s not telling me as to why she thinks she can’t love me—why she is fighting this so strongly. Because having her wrapped between my arms, I can feel her heart beat for me. Her breaths are for me. It’s taking all of both of our restraints to keep our bodies from colliding with each other.
Just tell me, stingray. I can help you, whatever it is.
“This kind of love never fades. It either grows into an unstoppable connection, or it rips us apart piece by piece as we fight it, taking everyone close to us down with us like a sinking ship. Stop fighting it, stingray.”
Tears stream down her cheeks.
Fuck, I can’t handle more tears.
I lean close to her, unable to stay away. Unable to tread slowly. And then my lips kiss her cold tears from her soft cheeks. Her eyes flutter at my touch.
So I kiss her other cheek, risking everything so my selfish lips can touch her skin as many times as she will let me.
As I move my lips to kiss her other cheek, her head tilts up, and I catch the corner of her lips instead.
I gasp into her lips at the sudden touch I’ve craved for weeks. I don’t move. My hands stay on the wall, and my lips barely open to accept the kiss.
If this is all I ever get from her, I want this moment to last forever. Even if it isn’t the perfect kiss. Even if our lips aren’t aligned. The kiss is like a sucker punch to my core. Reminding me of how amazing she is, but how far I have to go to make her mine again.
We are both frozen. I will not be the first to pull away. She will have to pull away first. She will be the one to break the connection. Not me.
Her lips shift, and I wait for the break. I prepare my heart for the rip of the bandaid about to happen.
But her lips shift to mine as she moans quietly.
Fuck yes!
I can’t help myself anymore. My resolve is gone, and I’m thinking with dick instead of my brain.
My tongue collides with hers as I push past her wet lips, barely escaping the wrath of her teeth as she nips at me. Punishing me for touching her and not giving her enough of what her body craves at the same time.
I feel high from the kiss as I put all my feelings into the kiss. I don’t touch her with my hands; I don’t let my body press against her; our only point of contact is our lips and tongue.
But she knows exactly how much I want her. Need her.