me, and how much I love him.
He’s deliberately torturing me, dragging it out as his thumb circles my clit, making me want him, need him to be inside of me. When his finger slips inside, the only sound in the room is our heavy breathing and the sound of me getting wetter and wetter.
My orgasm tears through me, and this time I do let out a scream. I don’t have the chance to come down from my release before he replaces his finger with his dick and presses it ever so slowly inside of me, filling me with total bliss.
“God, you feel so good.”
His thrusts are slow; he swivels his hips, palms pressing into the cheeks of my ass. He makes me feel alive, cherished like a goddess. We converse with our eyes that we are one in this universe; partners in more than just a sexual way.
I lift my hips off the bed as he takes his sweet time driving into me. Sex with Turner is always mind-blowing. The way he touches me, telling me over and over every single time how much he loves me. It doesn’t matter if we’re making sweet love like we are now, or if he has me bent over the couch fucking me hard from behind, he never forgets to tell me.
“I love you so much!” he bellows, positioning me the way he wants me, hitting that perfect spot that brings me so close.
I feel him deep; my hands fist the sheets, my back arching even more if possible.
His eyes intensify, searing straight into my soul, and when we come together, he stills himself as if he’s savoring this moment, locking it away into his brain. He speaks one last time before releasing his hold, collapsing on top of me.
It’s those words that I wake up to in this hospital room, spoken by a voice I’ve been aching to hear for so long, the lines sweetened even more than before. I don’t turn to face him, but I take joy in hearing them, knowing he remembers them exactly as I do, the words that made me fall in love with him even more than possible that day.
“If I had to pick between living and dying, the choice would be easy, because true love never dies. No matter what, I will love you forever.”
Chapter Fifteen
Turner
“Turner,” she says in a tired voice.
I place my hand on the wall for support for fear I am going to fall. After all this time, my wife is home. My feet take a few steps toward her and stop again. I can’t move. She’s right here only a few feet away from me, and I can’t seem to get my feet to fucking move toward her. I can only stand here and admire her, watching her breathe.
The covers are pulled completely up to her neck, but her blonde hair billows all around her, spilling halfway down her back. It looks several inches longer than the last time I saw her. I ease into the room a few more steps, close enough that I can smell her. Her natural scent is more intoxicating than the most expensive bottle of perfume made.
I inhale deeply, remembering it so well. I was afraid I would never again be able to draw in her beauty, feel the pleasure of burying my face deep into her hair after she has showered, smelling the strawberries from her shampoo, the fresh aroma of her skin after she has applied her favorite lotion; lose myself in her uniquely exotic essence as it clung to our sheets and pillows. My hand reaches out, laying my palm gently on her hip.
“Clove.”
She shudders.
“It’s really you,” she chokes out, her voice cracking. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you, not once. I...”
She trembles under my hand as she begins to cry. I skim my hand ever so lightly across her hip, toward her stomach, my touch subtle. I splay my hand wide across her stomach, over the spot where she carried our baby not so long ago. The warmth of her skin through the thin cotton hospital gown scorches my own, burning with the desire to bring her into my arms and never let her go again.
“I’ve never stopped thinking about you either, Clove. You’ve been the only person on my mind and in my heart, always. We don’t have to talk. Just please, let me hold you. ”
Nothing can describe the way I feel when she scoots her body to the other