“It’s ugly,” she whispers softly, her voice cracking with emotion.
Pulling my mouth away from her neck, I move my head back to stare down into her eyes, watching as silent tears fall out of them, trailing down her temples and off into her hair that’s spread out on the floor behind her. I don’t want her to cry any more than I don’t want to remember that fucking dream. It pisses me off that someone has made her feel like any part of her isn’t stunning. It hurts everything inside me to see that the strength I fell in love with all those years ago has been chipped away and left her feeling embarrassed and broken.
I want her to know she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and I want her to see the same beautiful strength in her scars that I do. I know we have a lot to talk about and that should probably be the first priority, but I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think…I just want to feel something other than scared and always on edge.
I move quickly, wrapping my arms around her body and pulling her with me as I get up to my knees and then twist my legs out under her until I’m sitting up with her straddling my thighs and her ankles locked together behind my lower back. With one arm wrapped tightly around her small waist, I press the palm of my free hand flat against her thigh once again and let my thumb trace gently over the scars.
“Nothing about you could ever be ugly, Shelby,” I tell her softly, my hand moving up her thigh until my fingers skirt under the edge of her tiny little gray shorts.
Her breath hitches again as I slowly inch my fingers under the cotton material, the sound different than the one previously that was filled with sadness and fear. I’d know this sound anywhere. It’s one I heard in my dreams for six years and one I would have died a thousand deaths to hear again. The tips of my fingers come in contact with bare flesh between her legs and I hear it again, the intake of breath coming from Shelby making my heart beat faster and my dick harden in my cargo shorts. This sound isn’t full of anxiety or grief. It’s a surprised gasp of want and need. I watch as her eyelids lazily drop and her lips part with a soft exhale of breath as my fingertips move with a featherlight touch over the lips of her sex.
Shelby’s hands clasp together behind my head and I lean forward until our lips are almost touching, my fingers continuing to trace over her warm, wet flesh, teasing her until she starts to squirm against me.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this,” I whisper against her mouth. “Touching you, feeling you, wanting you…it’s the only thing that kept me going.”
She moans softly when I speak, her hips jerking forward as my fingers continue to tease. I don’t want to push her. I don’t want anything to happen that she doesn’t want or before she’s ready. Even though I can feel her need against my fingers and can hear it in each gasp and whimper, I want her to say the words. I want her to tell me she needs this as much as I do.
“I missed you. I missed this,” I mutter softly. “Tell me what you want, Shelby.”
Holding my fingers still against her, I move my arm from around her waist and slide my palm up her spine and under the fall of her hair against her back. Clutching a handful of it at the nape of her neck, I tug gently until her eyes open to meet mine.
“I can’t…this isn’t…we shouldn’t…”
Her protests are stuttering and weak, trailing off as she tightens her legs around my waist and shifts her hips forward again until I feel like I might go crazy by squeezing the muscles in my arms so tightly to keep myself from pushing inside her.
“I don’t give a shit about can’t or shouldn’t,” I whisper fiercely, tightening my hold on her hair before I do something stupid and plunge inside her without hearing the words just because I want it so much. “You make everything good again. Let me give you the same. Just one moment where we can forget about everything but this.”
“Tell me what you want,” I state again.
I hold my breath, moving my fingers the slightest bit to remind her what I can give her if she just says the words.
“You,” Shelby finally breathes against my mouth. “I just want you, Eli.”
She barely gets my name out before I move, pulling her mouth against mine and pushing my fingers inside her at the same time. Her lips immediately part with a gasp and I slide my tongue against hers as she rocks against my hand.
The taste of her, the feel of her…it’s like coming home and I never want it to end. Everything about this moment is so familiar I can almost fool myself into believing I didn’t spend six years without it. I can almost make myself believe I spent the last seventy-two months kissing her, touching her, making her moan and having the heat of her wrapped around my fingers instead of what actually happened. Pumping my fingers slowly in and out of her, brushing my thumb back and forth over her clit and swallowing her moans as she grinds herself against my hand, erases every thought from my mind but her.
Giving her pleasure.
Taking away her pain.
Healing her the same way she heals me just by whispering my name.
I forget about the time we spent apart. I forget about all the things left unsaid between us, all the uncertainty and hurt and apologies still needed, and focus only on this moment, right here. I never thought I would have this again. I thought I would die without ever touching her again and I’m not going to waste one second thinking about all the time we lost or letting anything ruin this perfect moment of having her back in my arms.
She pulls her lips from mine and sighs my name again, closing her eyes and letting her head tip back as she continues rocking her lower body in the same slow rhythm as the movement of my fingers in and out of her wet heat. I press my mouth to the soft skin right below her jaw and feel her pulse beating quickly under my lips. I slide my thumb faster against her, wanting nothing more than to feel her come apart and hear her lose control.
Her hips thrust harder, pushing my fingers as deep as they’ll go, taking what she wants and racing toward what she needs. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever felt and I squeeze the fistful of her hair I’m still clutching until she brings her head back up so I can see her face.
“That’s it, baby. Let me feel you,” I mutter, watching the skin of her chest flush with need as she rocks her body faster, pants my name with each exhale of breath, and wraps her arms tightly around my shoulders, pulling me closer.
She throbs around my fingers and it feels like heaven. She whimpers as she gets closer to the edge and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. The weight of her on top of my thighs is something I’ve missed for far too long. I want to bottle up this moment and take it with me wherever I go. I want to spend the rest of my life giving her pleasure and taking away her pain.