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FORTY-ONE
TALIA
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper as I follow the delicate music notes on Tate’s ribs.
Our song.
He got our song tattooed, despite his fear of needles, eternalized forever.
His lips linger on the curve of my breast. “It wasn’t the right time. We were mad at each other, so hell-bent on ignoring our problems or forcing the other to face them. I didn’t do this to win you over; I did it so I’d always have a piece of us with me, no matter the outcome.”
No matter the outcome.
He’d proudly wear our first dance song on his skin, whether we stayed married or not.
I’m the one to press a kiss to his skin now, grazing each note with tender care. There’s so much adoration hidden behind his veiled eyes. He strokes my cheek, fingers tangling in my messy waves, using them to drag me into another toe-curling kiss.
How I’ve missed his kisses.
They transport me to another realm. I could kiss him through the ages and never tire, but I need to feel him. I need to be as close to him as the ink on his skin until he’s permanently marked me from within.
I rise on my knees, gripping his length, already hard again as it bobs between the apex of my thighs. This isn’t about taking the edge off or giving in to the unneglectable desire.
It’s about a connection I share with no other.
An unbreakable bond.
A reunion of two hearts.
I recall Tate’s metaphor to kintsugi. Our cracks and fractures won’t disappear—they shouldn’t. It’s important they stay as reminders. We aren’t us without the evidence of our tribulations.
“The outcome is forever,” I tell him as he nudges at my entrance. Then I sink down, the sudden fullness knocking the air from my lungs, making it difficult to get my next words out. “This…this is forever, Tate.”
He nods, eyes glazing over. “Forever.”
We move together.
It’s soul altering, being joined with him like this again. No doubt, no illusions, nothing else but the two of us.
I rock my hips in sync with Tate’s gentle thrusts. It’s a lazy, pleasure-laden homecoming.
Piercing blue orbs watch me move, his jaw slack. “Look at you. My stunning wife. Taking me so, so well. Does it feel good?”
“So good. Perfect. Oh god, Tate.” I press up on my hands, then drop back down on his cock, repeating this until sweat slicks my spine and my legs threaten to give out.
Tate takes over, sitting up and cupping my ass to guide himself in and out of me in slow, precise thrusts, hitting the spot inside of me that has me seeing stars.
“I’ve missed this—you—so much.”
He grunts when my nails bite into his skin. “From this day forward, you’ll never doubt my love for you. Never again.”
My head jerks frantically as I fight to stay upright. “This is all I need. Nothing else. Just you.”
“Just us.” Lips hovering over mine, his breaths come in short pants with every jab of his hips up into me. “Can I come in you? Mark this pretty pussy as mine again? I need to watch me leak out of you.”
The visual of his cum dripping out of me sends me hurtling toward the finish. “Yes. In me. Fill me.”
He grunts into my temple, messy kisses and messier movements as we fall. He pulses inside of me, thickening with every sharp gasp from my throat.
