Page 62 of Dallas

I’m still wearing his necklace.

Maybe that’s what changed me.

Like he put it on me and I suddenly realized that I belong to him. Really and truly.

All of a sudden, I’m right back in my body. Needy, desperate, trembling for him. All of a sudden, there is no escape from that feeling. I’m so aware of everything. How hard my heart is beating, the way that my breasts feel heavy, my nipples tight. The aching throb between my legs, and how slick I am with my need for him.

He moves toward me, cups my cheek, and kisses me, this time much more gently, but no less impactful.

I want to beg him. For more, for less, for everything. I want to promise to do everything he wants. To be whatever he needs me to be. His perfect girl.

I just want this to go on forever, as much as I need it to stop.

I’m overwhelmed. And yet I also feel the best I ever have.

Every fear that I’ve ever had rises up inside of me, I fear that this won’t be able to last, that he’ll leave me. That I’ll lose him again. I push it aside. Because right now, we are together. Right now, I have Dallas. And that’s more than I ever thought I would have, ever again. I didn’t think that I would ever find him. I didn’t think that if Idid he would care about me. I never thought that I would end up in his arms.

The feeling inside of me is so big the only thing I can compare it to his panic, except unlike a panic attack, I wanted to go on.

But my breathing is shallow, my heartbeat erratic, my body trembling.

“Sarah,” he whispers against my neck. “Can I touch you?”

He looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine.

I nod, wordless.

“No, baby,” he says. “That’s not good enough. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” I whisper, the word coming out strangled.

He makes a sound like relief, and moves his hand to cup my breast, his thumb skimming over my tightened nipple before pinching it. The answering pulse between my legs nearly makes my knees buckle. He continues to touch me. Working magic on my skin like a sorcerer in possession of wicked spells. Like a sensual wizard.

There is no sex in Tolkien. I think that’s partly why it’s the kind of fantasy that I’ve always enjoyed.

Right now, I’m enjoying it.

Right now, I feel like I am on a whole new kind of adventure. Maybe by the end, I’ll be able to cast the ring into the fire. Or maybe I’m being overly optimistic. Maybe I just need to stop thinking altogether. And just feel. Because I trust Dallas. One thing has always, always been true. He’s going to keep me safe.

He’s going to make it okay. He’s going to give me what I need. He’s always known what that was, even when I didn’t.

That’s been part of our dynamic forever. It was always going to be him. Part of me wants to say that. But I’m the one who said I didn’t want to talk. So it’s best if I stick to that. If I can’t follow my own rules, then I won’t be allowed to make them. I’m okay with that right now. Honestly, I would prefer to live under Dallas’s rules. I would prefer for his hands to be my whole world. Honestly, this is the safest I’ve ever felt. Even as I tremble in his arms. Then, he slides his hands down my waist, my hips. And pushes the hem of my dress up my thighs. And then it just isn’t my breasts that he’s touching.

His hands find where I’m wet and slick for him. And he’s touching me there. Making me feel glorious, wonderful things that just don’t hurt at all.

I whisper yes against his throat as he continues to stroke me, his fingers touching me intimately before he pushes one deep inside of me.

I whimper, and he stops. “Is that okay?”

I nod, having a hard time using my words. I’m having a hard time shaping my thoughts into language.

But he stops, and I know that he’s waiting for me to tell him for sure that everything is fine. I told him to treat me like he would anyone, but in the moment, I’m glad he’s treating me like this, not because I want to be treated like I’m fragile. But because it makes me feel special. Like he’s entirely aware of who I am, and it matters.

In that first feverish haze, I thought I wanted to be just like all the other women he’s been with. But I want to be special.

Oh, that sad, small part inside of me that always wants to be special. But I don’t let it make me feel bad, not now.

I embrace it.

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