Page 121 of Serenity
The density of tension floated above us. Around us. Between us. Silence, so pervasive, it caused me to second guess if she were still awake, laid atop that heaviness. The weight of a planet loomed. A heaviness we both felt. With vehemence, I wished I could carry it all. We didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve this.
“Bee?”
“Hmm?”
“Come ‘ere.”
She was on the far end of the California King bed. I was somewhere off the middle. I needed her next to me. Needed her close. Needed her softness. Her intoxicating peachy ass scent despite things not being so peachy.
Unhesitating, she scooted closer, finally relaxing on the side of my chest. Absent a further thought, I wrapped my arms around her.
“I missed this,” she confessed.
“What?”
“Laying with you like this.”
“I’ve been here every night. I’ll be here every night.”
“I haven’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I countered, stroking the side of her arm. “I don’t expect you to always give a hundred percent. There’ll be days I can’t give a hundred percent. There’ll be days when I can only do sixty, and maybe on those days, you can only do twenty. Adding that shit together sounds like eighty to me. That’s close enough to a hundred. What matters is our ability to hold each other up when either of us is down.”
The AC kicked on, prompting her skin to litter with goosebumps. I dragged the comforter at the edge of the bed over us both. She snuggled in close.
“I’d never do anything to hurt you. I love you. When I say that shit, I mean it. Adding to that fact is how nonsensical of a position I’d be placing myself in by hurting you,” I explained.
I needed her to understand that with every fiber of her existence. The turn of events could prompt a damning disruption in our relationship. We’d ridden the rocky road, and a nigga wasn’t prepared to let go.
“According to Ramsay, there’s only one reason why I’m still breathing, and that’s because I’m innocent,” trying to lighten the mood, I joked.
Serenity’s head lifted from my chest. It was the first intentional show of energy she’d had in days. “My dad threatened you?”
“You already know.”
“That’s unacceptable, Duke. You shouldn’t be afraid to—”
“To hurt you? Yes, the fuck I should be, Serenity. Threat or no threat, the thought of breaking you puts the fear of God in me. You’re a beautiful, magnificent, and strong vessel, but a vessel nonetheless. Vessels are delicate. Something to be handled with care. Something to be cherished and loved on gently. Fear should absolutely be the first and foremost emotion when it comes to hurting you, regardless of a fucking threat.”
“You get to talking like that, and it makes me melt.”
Tilting her head upward, I connected with her lips. “I’m not trying to make you melt. I’m just speaking facts.”
“That’s wonderful, but now I need a distraction.”
“What might that be?”
“You… inside me. I want to be weightless. I want to float. Take my mind off of it, Duke. Like only you can.”
So, I did. I climbed inside my woman and told her how magnificent she was, how heavenly she felt, how she was worthy of respect and admiration—not this bullshit we were being dealt.
Our kisses were feverish, steamy, and sweet before they transformed into savage-like, spicy, and wicked. Love bites. Some of them soft, but many were hostile—daring to break the skin and sure to leave a mark. An expression of our rage. An expression of our fire. Ire married to desire.
Sliding lower, I licked her folds, savoring her taste and texture like a ripened peach. So slippery. So sweet. She was my favorite delicacy.
And then I slid inside. I stroked her like she was the best thing to happen to me because she was. I stroked her long and sweet. Balls deep, I slid in and out of that pussy. With her leg hooked around my arms, I touched the parts of her I seldom felt. I entered her temple, issuing all the praise. All the kisses. All the whispers to make it better. And she held me tight. Her walls gripped me even tighter. Every inch conformed to my mass as if made for me.
She was made for me. Mine. Not the world’s. Me and only me.