Page 88 of Born in Grief

“You are my family, my home, my safe space. You are all I want from life, now and forever.”

“You are all I’ve ever wanted,” he told her, kissing her gently and deeply. “I love you Dhrithi and I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.”

Dhrithi moaned, tilting her head back and trying to deepen the kiss. Amay broke away, sweating with the pressure of staying in control and not taking more than she was ready to give.

“Amay,” she whispered.

“I, um,” he murmured. “Think we should take it slow.”

“Slow?” She stared at him. “SLOW??”

Amay winced, that last screech might have punctured his eardrums.

“How much slower?” she asked. “We’ve already been waiting years!”

Amay laughed at her petulant reaction. “How about a compromise?”

“What like second base and no further?” she asked sullenly.

“No, you little brat. How about we have a safe word? Anytime you feel uncomfortable, you use it and I’ll stop immediately.”

“I don’t need a safe word, Amay. This is you and me.”

“Humour me,” he murmured, kissing her pouting mouth before nipping at the sensitive skin against her jawline. He continued to kiss his way down her body, gentle, soft kisses, all the way until her sensitive core. He could feel how hot and wet she was,for him. He couldn’t believe they were here in this moment. Dhrithi and he finally had a shot at a life together.

“Acid,” she gasped, her hand clenching in his hair. “My safe word. It’s acid.”

“Damn, Dhriths,” he chuckled. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down.” He glanced up at her and saw the glazed, feverish glint in her eyes. “Way down,” he said as he kissed her core, an open-mouthed kiss, his gaze still holding hers.

She moaned as her hips arched off the bed, one hand gripping his hair, the other clenched in the bedsheet.

“Too much?” he asked as he licked her through the thin, cotton fabric of her shorts.

“You know what your problem is, Ams?” she asked, her breath coming in short, hard pants.

“What?”

“You talk too much.”

Laughter burst out of him, even as helpless giggles erupted from her. It was a gift. To feel so loved, so secure with your partner, that you could laugh through the most intimate moments of life, it was a gift that was immeasurably precious. And one he would never take for granted.

After that they didn’t talk for a long time. No words were exchanged but a million promises were made, a hundred hopes were nurtured, and two scarred, battered hearts finally found their way back to each other.

Chapter Fifty-One

DHRITHI

She woke the next morning, her body deliciously sore and her heart brimming over. She smiled as she reached for him, but the other side of the bed was empty. Dhrithi sat up in bed, the sheet clutched to her chest as she scanned the room. Before she could call out, Amay appeared in the doorway.

“Good morning,” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

A ridiculous blush hit her cheeks as the memory of the previous night filtered through her brain. She had thought she’d feel self-conscious and awkward about the myriad scars on her body, but Amay had shown her how much he cherished her in every way possible, that any thought of feeling inadequate flew out of her brain long before it could take root.

A delicious smell reached her even as she struggled to find her composure. “Is that bacon I smell?” Her nose twitched even as her stomach growled.

“Yes.” Amay smiled broadly at the sound of her obvious hunger. “Virat’s in charge of breakfast. He’s intent on a full English breakfast except for black pudding.”

“Thank God,” Dhrithi murmured, gagging at the thought of being faced with black pudding and trying to shovel it in to be polite. “The rest of it sounds amazing. When are we going back to the house?” The thought of what they might find made her want to gag again. Even black pudding would be preferable to that.