Page 71 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

When he comes back, I go and quickly brush my teeth and wash off my makeup.

He’s under the covers when I return.

“Come here.” He holds open the sheets.

I get in and snuggle into his chest, draping my arm across his stomach and sliding my leg between his. He rests his hand on my hair. We listen to each other breathe.

“What was Dom like?” he asks, his voice calm.

What?!The walls in the room start closing in as a burst of heat spreads through my chest. “Why do you want to know about Dom?”

“It’s tough not to wonder about the man who still has your girl’s heart,” he says, stroking my hair.

My chest fists. Though his delivery is tender and curious, his statement smashes me in the face. I’m a mixture of grief, thinking about Dom in this moment, and hopefulness, as his words, “your girl’s heart” drift into me. Goose bumps coat my skin.

“But my heart doesn’t belong to him. Not anymore.” Hearing myself say the words stings.

“You might not think so, but it does. You wear him around your neck, clinging to his ghost.” He pauses. No accusation. No judgement. “I get it.” His tone still gentle, he takes his Superman pendant in his hand. “We both know the pain of loss.”

The parallels that connect us, reach deep into my soul. I place my hand on his, still holding the pendant.

“He was important to you. I want you to know it’s okay to talk to me about him. It’s not like we’re on a first date and you’re endlessly carrying on about an awful ex-boyfriend. I really want to know. What was he like?”

As uncomfortable as I am, I admire his openness and invitation to share something so intimate with him. This is going to be tough.

I take a slow, deep breath. “He was an architect. So talented and skilled at his job, plus he loved it. He was a very positive person and looked for the good in everyone. One of those people who would drop what he was doing to help you. He got along great with my parents and they loved him.” I pause, reminiscing. A chuckle rustles out of me. “He’d sit through any TV show or movie I wanted to watch, even if he didn’t like it and we’d seen it a hundred times. He’d watch it with me because I liked it.” I shake my head. “And when I’d get home from a long day of traveling for work, he’d rub my feet.” I sigh. “He had a lot of integrity. Did the right thing when no was watching because that’s just who he was. We had similar values, respected each other, and shared some of the same desires for our future.” I stop, my heart hurting.

“He sounds like a great guy. Like he deserved you.” His tone is gentle, heartfelt.

“He really was.” A stuttered breath leaves me. “They were together when they died. My mom and Dom. He wanted to take Destiny with him, but she was away with her mom for a few months doing research for a book while her mom was directing a film, and he didn’t want to wait.” I pause to fill my lungs. “At least they were together.” I say with a sigh. “After they passed away, I didn’t want to get close to anyone, ever.”

“Why?” After his own loss, I know he knows why. With his own delicacy, he invites me to open myself to him. His desire to hear my answer embraces me.

“I got it in my head that the people I love get taken away from me. I don’t think my heart could survive losing another person I love.” Wrapped around him, my heart fists.

He tilts his head, looking down at me tucked into him. “Are you going to let that stop you from — falling in love again?”

My rib cage constricts, unbearable. “I…I don’t know.”

“Please don’t let your pain drown you. You have so much life to live and so much love to give. I know your heart hurts. But, don’t deprive yourself of the chance of having love again.” Locking his tender eyes on mine, he tucks my hair behind my ear and brushes my cheek with his thumb. “I want a chance to earn your love, if you’ll let me.” He breathes, the air between us fills with hope. “Let me kiss away your pain.” His words make a promise to my heart. His eyes shift between mine, waiting...

Shivers streak across my flesh.

Without another word, I lift my chin, offering my lips, accepting his promise. He lowers his face, claiming them, his touch sparking new life into me. My rib cage loosens, making space for him in my heart.I’m falling.

His kiss is deep yet gentle, slow and passionate.

Taking his time, he savors my mouth, moving my body to lie flat. He breaks our kiss, leaving my mouth wanting him. With a feather-light touch, he skims his hand with slow, calculated movements, heating my skin beneath it. Running his fingers from behind my ear, he trails them down the side of my neck, across my collarbone, and over my shoulder. Moving down my arm, he turns my hand to face up and lightly traces each finger then makes circles in my palm. Retracing his journey back up, he follows the same pattern on the other side. Everywhere he touches tingles.

Like he’s painting a canvas with his fingers as the paintbrush, he glides them down the center of my chest, letting them curve under one breast and round up to the top of it. Making circles inward toward my nipple, he doesn’t touch it. He mimics his pattern on my other breast, tantalizing me. Blood churns. While his touch is calming, what he’s not touching is torturous. When he gets below my breasts, he flattens his hand against my stomach, grazing my skin on his way down between my legs. My breathing picks up as I close my eyes, waiting impatiently for his next movement.

Dipping his finger into the wet paint, he doesn’t stay there long. Just enough to taunt me and make me gasp. Moving his hand, he wraps his fingers around my back as he presses his thumb lightly into my abs, traveling back up my body.

Hovering his face above mine, his eyes flicker with fire. The air between us simmers. Rolling on top of me, he slides himself into me, then moves his body high up on mine, his chest above my face. Body pressing against body, my senses ignite everywhere our skin meets. I’ve never had a man go so high above me. Then I feel it.

His dick facing down inside me, he gently begins grinding himself into me with a steady rocking motion. Every up and down stroke is slow, deliberate, and hyper-focused on my nub. I nearly buck beneath him. As he moves, he gazes down at me with his mesmerizing eyes, pulling me deeper into the intensity of the moment. Locking me in our ethereal chrysalis, his hot, controlled breaths float into my open mouth.

Rather than the rapid, shallow, panting breaths that usually fly out of me, my breaths are deep, and slow, following his unhurried rhythm. A contradiction to my racing heartbeat. Ensnared in our web spun of passion and tenderness, our esoteric connection brings me the most euphoric high I’ve ever experienced. Imprisoning my eyes, worshiping my body, capturing my heart, he rubs against me, embedding himself into my soul.

Neither of us says a word as our bodies speak a language our minds can’t comprehend. Several more pleasure-serving rubs and my entire body explodes into ecstasy, every nerve-ending aflame as I tremble, heat blazing through me. He intoxicates me.

Within seconds, he pulses inside me, moaning, his body shuddering on top of me. Groaning over and over, he buries his face in the pillow above me. When his shudders subside, he lets the weight of his body drape over me, cradling me in his arms.

---