It’s hard for me to put myself in his shoes. I don’t doubt that he is feeling the heaviness of the situation, but he hasn’t had any time to even process the fact that there was a baby. We would have had a child, made out of love. Even with our young hearts, we both know that any child we would have made would have been our greatest accomplishment. A joy we would have welcomed, even being babies ourselves.
“I bet she would have looked just like you, that round, beautiful face with the softest of skin and the palest eyes you ever saw. Hair that would catch fire when she ran through the yard, laughter that would make even the surliest of bastards smile—the picture of fucking perfection,” he says against my ear. The lightness in his tone does nothing to blanket the sadness. He’s trying to reassure me when it should be me reassuring him.
“No, he would have been the spitting image of his handsome father. The strongest face you ever did see on any child. Hair so dark it would give midnight a run for its money and eyes so green you would have sworn we robbed a jewelry store. He would have been so brave and strong. Just perfect. And I would have loved him just as much as I love his father,” I whisper, ending on a soft catch that gives me away.
We can try and lighten our sadness, but there is no getting around the fact that we both have lost and lost hard.
“Never again, Izzy West. I will never again let anyone take you from me. Or anything from us.” His words hang between us both as a promise and a threat.
I know in this moment that this man would fight to the death to keep me by his side, protecting me from the world.
“I don’t want to be anywhere else but here.” I lean off his chest and give him the softest of kisses. It doesn’t take long before we are using our desire for each other to erase the pain we still hold heavy in our hearts.
“Come on, Princess. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” He helps to pull me off the floor and then, to my shock, lifts me into his arms and begins to walk through the house.
“I can walk, you know?” I joke, leaning into his neck and inhaling his intoxicating scent.
His arms tighten around me before he replies, “I know, but right now, I need this. Just be quiet and let me lead.”
I can give him that.
I lean up from where my head was resting on his shoulder and look at his strong profile. This man, this incredible man, I never thought I would have again, is hurting. I can tell by the clenched jaw and the focus determination in his hard lines. Rightfully so, it isn’t every day a man learns that he was a father. Even if the child never made it past a much-loved fuzzy ultrasound image—an image he didn’t even know existed five minutes ago. A sharp pain shoots through my heart when I think of how much he would have loved our child. We had always talked about how much we wanted children.
“You okay?” I whisper when we hit the landing on the second floor. He ignores me for a while, and I have almost convinced myself that he didn’t hear my question until he breaks the silence.
“No. But I will be. We will be.”
He stops when we reach his room and gently lowers me onto the bed. I look up and meet his sad eyes before he breaks contact and pushes his sweats down his lean hips. I sit up, and pull the tee off my body, and throw it to the floor seconds before he presses his weight into my body, pushing me into the mattress. Every inch of our skin from shoulders to toes is touching. I open my legs and welcome his weight, his hips sliding against my arousal.
He presses his forehead to my own, his breathing fanning my lips and dancing with my own heavy pants. His hands, which are holding my head reverently, warm my cheeks.
“I need you, Princess,” he softly whispers against my lips.
“You have me,” I reply.
He lifts his hips and I help guide his heavy erection into my waiting body. He doesn’t move his hands from my face or his weight from my body. His forehead comes off of mine so that he can press the most loving and tender kisses to my lips.
This isn’t the heavy, fast sex we had earlier. This is pure lovemaking. This is two souls that have been adrift for too long finally coming home to each other. This is healing.
I bring my legs up, circling tightly around his hips. My arms curl up and around his shoulders and I hold on tight.
There is nothing fast about this moment. His breathing against my lips is coming in heavy pants, mirroring my own.
He rocks against me, not breaking his slow and steady rhythm for what seems like hours. It isn’t until our tears start mingling together down my cheeks that he releases my cheek with one of his hands and brings it behind my knee to hook my leg higher up his side.
“Oh, God . . .” I cry as lights explode behind my eyes and my toes curl. My fingernails are digging into his shoulders, anchoring me against his powerful movements.
“Never. Going. To. Let. You. Go,” he rasps out, punctuating each word with a hard thrust into my wet core. His pelvis is grinding against my clit in the perfect friction. I cry out once again when another orgasm hits me so close to the first.