I nuzzled into the warm comfort of his neck as the rest of me melted into him, all while inhaling his fresh scent.
Why was my damn heart beating so fast? Why couldn’t I control my breathing? Why were his actions mirroring mine? Did this make us a couple? At my age, I should have known the answer to every question, but I was in unknown territory. My dominating nature would take over and I had never allowed anyone to get close enough to venture to this place.
When Arjen finally eased back, I intended to stand, grateful for the session we’d had because it was like therapy. However, I didn’t know how to process the pulling tension that urged me to cling to him.
My escape from the engulfing sensations were thwarted when he kept me in place on his lap. His strong arms had loosened but remained around me. I could sense his eyes on the side of my head, so I lifted my head and met his gaze.
“I need you to know that you’re not alone. Don’t think that you can’t come to me for anything. You can. Don’t think that I wouldn’t help you with anything because I will. You’re my wife, Mecca. We may not have a conventional marriage, but I do believe it is my job to make you happy and to keep you safe.”
During the time that he’d been speaking his wonderful words, the lump in my throat was steadily growing.
“Thank you,” I choked out, unsure of what to say. Since it had never been freely given, I didn’t know how to accept the kind of help and support he was offering.
“I’ll do my best to make you proud of me,” I muttered in a low tone.
Based on the things he was saying, he was treating us like a couple. Was he aiming for us to be the real deal? I assumed he just wanted sex, but it seemed my husband was aiming to take this thing all the way.
What the hell did I know about being someone’s wife, when I had never even mastered the title of girlfriend. I wasn’t even a good fuck-buddy.
“Arjen,” I called. I bit into my smile at his reaction, understanding the quick smile that raced across his lips was from me calling him by his name, for what I believed was the first time. His lovely smile lured me in, causing me to toss away my present train of thought.
The awareness flowing between us, and the strength of his penetrating connection made the hairs on my neck and arms bristle and sway in his direction. His scent had me taking deep, noticeable breaths, my chest bobbing about like a small animal was trapped inside.
“Yes, love,” he finally answered me in the midst of our moment of intense connection.
“I think I would like to reciprocate your offer and be there for you, but I don’t believe I know how. I have never even had a longtime boyfriend. The moment a man steps out of line or does something I don’t like, I drop him.”
His smile deepened.
“You see, that’s the thing about being married. No matter how many times we do something the other doesn’t like, we can’t drop each other. We’ll be forced to find ways to solve our problems.”
The realization that we were stuck together, no matter what, hit home like a teasing punch to the gut. I didn’t like the depth of our conversation, but I was determined to face it. We had given more in this single moment than we had in our entire relationship.
When I attempted to ease from his lap the second time, he stopped me again, gripping the sides of my shoulders to keep me in place before leaning in and placing his lips to the back of my hair. An army of emotions marched into my heart and spread, closing my eyes and forcing me to fight for each breath. His warm breaths breezed through my hairline and swept along my neck.
His reluctance to let me go hinted that he had also fallen into the well of emotions we were trapped in. After a stilled moment that gave away my inability to confine the jittery intensity rushing through me, he released my shoulders. He didn’t move his head away from the back of mine, nor had I made the final move that would end our connection.