Once she did this, she knew there would be no turning back, and she realized she didn’t want to. So, like a fairy prince awakening his true love from the troubled sleep of dark dreams, she laid her lips to Blake’s and gave him back her full heart, the one covered in scar tissue from her grief, the one that had raised its walls to protect her, the one that was ready to love him enough to allow him into the deepest, most private place inside her: the one that wasn’t always pretty or strong or sane.
His body tensed under her as he awakened, as if he were scared of this fragile, numinous connection between them, but he passively allowed her to kiss him. She supped at his lips to feed the starved part of her that had missed him. She traced the bones of his face to imprint into herself that he was still here after seeing her at her lowest last night.
Angling her head to the side, she fitted their mouths together in deeper union, tracing his bottom lip with her tongue. Under her, his heartbeat thundered now in his chest, but still he made no move to touch her other than to maintain the connection of their mouths and lips.
His skin was warm when she traced it, and as she continued to kiss him, she imagined the pink glow surrounding her heart flowing up with her breath and into his mouth, communicating all of the stored up love she’d hidden away in the locked treasure chest of her heart.
She went on kissing him and kissing him. Her body filled with the light of a million sun drops, burning off her grief like it was morning fog. The joy that rose within her breast made her want to cry out in triumph.
I have come home, and here I will stay.
But still he held back, letting her take the lead, and the realization of what he was waiting for finally thundered through her.
“I love you,” she said, searching for his eyes at last. “I want to come home. Will you let me?”
He cupped her face with a kind of benediction. “Babe, you can always come home to me.”
Their mouths met again, and this time he poured himself into the kiss, nipping at her lips, dueling with her tongue. His arms tightened around her and beckoned her to come closer, to always come closer, as close as she dared.
And she did, laying claim to him again, fitting their mouths together in glorious exploration until she finally had to edge back and give herself life-sustaining breath. His gaze was the loving one she remembered, but it had changed into something even more powerful, like steel forged in fire.
“I love you,” she said again, tracing the planes of his face. “Will you make love with me?”
He only nodded, as if he couldn’t trust himself to speak. Understanding the fragility of the moment, she shuffled off his body and held out her hand to him. He took it, and together they journeyed back to the room that had held such pain the night before.
She shrugged out of her robe and stood naked before him in the morning sunlight, feeling the warm beams alive on her skin. His gaze burned into hers as he tugged off his jeans and briefs. This time she knew she had to take the next step.
Crossing over to the bed, she climbed into the middle and sat cross-legged in the center. Her body trembled with nerves. A shudder ran through his body as he looked at her, and he swallowed thickly. She held out her hand and waited for him to come to her.
He walked to the side of the bed slowly and opened the drawer to her nightstand, like he was expecting to find a snake. Tension pulled at the skin between her shoulder blades. He drew out a condom with a shuttered breath.
The inside of her cheek hurt where she bit it, seeing the fear and longing play across his face. Could they do this again and not be destroyed? She knew he must be thinking that, for she was thinking it too. He rolled the condom onto himself. When their eyes met, she raised the hand she still held out to him. He joined her in the center of the bed, and she rose up over him and wrapped her legs around him like a butterfly closing its wings over a newly emerging blossom.
She caressed his face as she fitted herself over him and took him inside her. Desire wasn’t coursing through her yet, but love was. And love was more important than passion right now. His face clenched as her muscles opened to him, and she traced the taut skin of his jaw.
“I love you,” she whispered and pressed close until their bellies touched and her breasts teased the hard muscles of his chest.
His hands clutched her waist as he reached her core. Then he pressed his forehead to hers, his sorrow traveling through the ends of her fingers to her aching heart.
“Look at me, Blake,” she said softly.
He lifted his head, and in his open gaze, she saw the pain and the love and all the pieces of him she’d missed. Her hips pressed forward, and he met her halfway. Something ignited inside her belly, and she undulated her hips again, feeling him shift inside her. On the edge of her mind, she heard a cry and strained to listen.
Yes, she heard. Yes.
“Oh, God,” he rasped, his fingers digging into her hips now. “Natalie.”
They started to dance, a dance they hadn’t forgotten. His eyes met hers and wouldn’t let her look away, even when her back arched into him, a ragged moan pouring from her lips.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he whispered.