Instead of waiting for an answer, I’m eager to bring her pleasure again. My lips find her belly and I kiss with soft, gentle kisses. Then, I kiss her more firmly—I suck her sweet flesh into my mouth and taste her. After forty-nine seconds of this, she’s turned into a live wire beneath me.
“War, I need more.”
With a half-grin, I slip my finger between her legs. Pushing into her now dripping * with my finger, I go back to licking and sucking the skin on her abdomen. Her breaths come out short and uneven, the urge to count them gone, and my mouth soon finds her supple tits. Our bodies connect and thrive when they’re together. I don’t have to think about what I’m doing with her, it just happens exactly the way it should be.
“Yes! God, yes!” she cries out as another orgasm seizes her.
When her body stops shuddering, I chuckle and slip my finger out of her. “Is that a yes to marrying me?”
The air in front of me swishes as she swats at me. “The answer to your question, Warren, is yes multiplied by infinity. And don’t you dare start trying to calculate what that number is. Just know it’s infinite and a number that can never be counted because it’s too great. It’s never-ending.”
Crawling back over her, I find her lips again and kiss her in a gentle manner. “Thank you.”
“For what? You haven’t even gotten off yet,” she says with a laugh. “I’m the one having all the fun here.”
With my thumb, I stroke her smooth cheek which I know is slightly red, even in the dark, from her orgasm. “Thank you for loving me. I’m hard to love, Baylee. It takes a special person to love someone like me.”
Her fingers push through my hair on the sides of my head and her thumb slides along the uneven scar on my face. “It was never hard for me,” she whispers. “It was always too easy. Like breathing or talking. Loving you came second nature. You were meant for me.”
I bury my face against her neck and press kisses into the flesh below her ear. “The medicine is helping me, beautiful. I can do this—for us. Thanks for never giving up on me.”
She lets out a gasp when I suck a little too hard on her skin. “War was never over for me. I will always fight for you. Thank you for fighting for me too.”
Smiling, I trail kisses back up along her cheek until I find her mouth again. “We don’t ever have to fight again,” I assure her. “We’ve won. Love always wins, Bay.”
When she starts to cry, tears of relief, I kiss away each one. I revel in the salty release of her pent up worries, sorrows, and fears tasting each and every one as they leak out of her eyes. Soon, she won’t have to cry ever again. I’ll make sure of it.
Until the last of her tears are released, I’ll lick them all away. My Baylee tastes of sunshine, the salty Pacific, and hope.
But most importantly, she tastes like peace.
I’M HERE.
With War.
At last.
The steaming hot water washes away the pain and horrors I’ve been harboring. Although the water remains clear, I can’t help but feel as though I’m washing away the blood from the casualties in my war. With a tearful, bitter, dark laugh, I confess what weighs on my heart—the main reason I haven’t been able to connect physically with War. “He fucked me, War,” I murmur, unable to meet his eyes as he stands outside of the shower dutifully taking his medication. “And Brandon would have if he’d been given the chance.”
Silence stretches out between us as he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down his muscular thighs. He kicks out of them on his way over to me so that he’s completely naked. The man is built like an immortal god.
“They didn’t love you though. Not like I do. Fucking means nothing without love. Remember that.” His voice is calm and it blankets me in a warmth the water will never match.
He steps into the shower and helps me wash. I keep waiting for him to obsess over how Gabe tainted me or poisoned our baby with his bodily fluids. I expect him to recoil from this dirty woman I’ve become. Instead, he washes me while he hums a song by the Pixies.
Where Is My Mind?
The song that he’s played on occasion while we play chess soothes my quivering heart. It infects the dark thoughts inside of my head and weaves with it images and memories of War. His touch, his scent, his overwhelming desire to care for me. His love. Soon, the shower is off, my mind and body are renewed, and my War is guiding me to his bed.
Towels are dropped.
And that’s okay.
Afflictions are lost.
And we don’t notice.
Love leads the way.
And we gladly follow.
“I’m going to hold you, Bay, and never let you go.” His words are a vow meant to protect me, not imprison me. And I believe them.