Page 77 of Your Soul to Keep

The fear inside me could not stand against what was now, was then, and had always been real.

What would always be real.

Him.

Him and me and the life we would build together.

I shoved my fingers through his messy black hair and held his head, not a breath between us.

I clutched at him as he broke the kiss, but he only lowered me to the bed and climbed up over me.

“Easy, baby.” His hips wedged between my thighs. “You have me.”

I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as he entered me with one smooth thrust, pushing the tension from my overwrought body.

My hands gentled on his back, cupping the muscles that undulated as he moved over me. I spread my thighs wide, wrapped my legs around his calves, and opened my mouth to his.

Clasping his hand around the back of my neck, he kissed me hard, smashing my lips against my teeth, his tongue delving inside as if desperate to fill me more completely with himself. His other hand, hot and heavy on my hip, held me immobile. Above me, his big body shook as his hips rolled, moving me slowly, inexorably, closer to release. Pressing deeper, withdrawing, pressing in once more, leeching the pain away.

The silky softness of his duvet.

The warmth of his skin.

The heat of his breath.

The branding of his mouth, his hands, his cock inside me, anchoring me to the present.

Offering a future so much brighter than the one to which I was convinced I’d been condemned.

I inhaled.

New life.

Love that had stood the test of time.

Hope.

My neck arched back, my fingers dug into the muscles in his back, and I cried out as my release rumbled through me.

His hips slammed into me once, twice, three times then stuttered to a stop, his body bowing, face tucked into my throat as he grunted out his release.

I melted into the softness at my back and ran my hands up his back. Stroked the back of his neck, and pressed my cheek to his temple as his big chest rose and fell, my name on his lips.

“Gabe,” I whispered a promise. “I love you.”

Nan’s face in the mirror.

Time to write a different story.

20

Shibaby

“ThatShibabyinmineDaddy’s bed? Her tired?”

I came to slowly, hearing Dylan’s little voice in my dreams.

Early morning sunlight dappled my closed eyelids and warmed my face.

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