“I’m not sure what to ask,” she says. “I just want to touch you.”
“Keep your hands at your sides,” I say and to ease the immediate disappointment, I add, “You can touch me later.”
“What’s your favorite thing about me?” Ella asks after a moment.
“How red your ass is right now,” I joke but then I tell her, “How I feel like this was meant to be. Like there isn’t another person in this world that could want me and need me exactly how I want and need you.”
Ella thinks for a minute. “Do you ever wish you could go back?”
No.
There’s a chill that spreads over every inch of my skin. I know the answer right away, but I don’t want her to think I’m telling her what she wants to hear.
If I had the chance, would I go back? Would I try to change things?
The answer is still the same.
“No, jailbird. I wouldn’t. How could you even think that?”
Her head shakes softly and she swallows audibly. Her bottom lip quivers and before she can say anything, I pick her up and toss her on the bed onto her knees. Lowering my lips to the shell of her ear, I tell her, “I’m going to fuck that thought out of your pretty little head and you’re never allowed to think it again.”
As I slam inside of her to the hilt and she struggles to stay upright, I remind her, “You are mine and I’m exactly who you’re meant to belong to.”
I almost add “right now” but the words stop short. She is mine and she will stay mine. That is all that matters.