I can’t get enough, I can’t get close enough.
“Cooper, please,” I beg, desperate for more.
He pulls back, breathing labored. I could die happy at the spark of desire whirling in the depths of his eyes.
“Jesus, I’ve missed you,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. I watch entranced as his gaze drifts down my naked body, taking in all that’s changed. He runs his fingers over the curves of my hips and up my ribs, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Once they reach my collar bone, he looks at me. “How bad do you need me, Kylie?” His voice is dark, intense and troubled.
His question catches me by surprise. Can’t he see how much I need him? Can’t he tell how much my body calls to his? How desperate I’ve been for him?
“Tell me,” he growls close to my face. “Tell me how badly you need me. I need to feel it. Make me feel it.”
I clutch his cheeks. My heart aches that this beautiful man needs reassurance from me. I’ve damaged him enough that he can’t read me. He can’t tell how badly I want him. “Cooper, let me show you.”
I’ve said a thousand times how much I love him, how much I need him. I need to show him with my body. I have to offer him my heart and be completely vulnerable.
I move my hands to his boxers and pull them down as much as I can, pushing them off the rest of the way with my feet. I stare into his eyes and wrap my hand around his cock. I stroke it, feeling the smooth skin slide against the palm of my hand. I lean toward him and lick the seam of his lips.
He shivers as his mouth opens and his tongue peeks out, meeting mine. I gaze at him with lust and desperation, speaking my love without words.
His eyes gleam with unshed tears. I feel a sharp pain in my chest at how hurt he is, how unsure of us he seems. I urge him closer, stroking the way I know he likes it. I feel him tremble as his cock swells beneath my palm.
I have an overwhelming urge to wrap my mouth around him, so I shimmy down his body, kissing and licking along the way. I stop once the head of his cock is in line with my mouth and his balls rest firmly in my hand. I tilt my head back and meet his magnificent face. His huge body radiates need and hunger, and his eyes burn with fire.
He grabs the top of the head board as my tongue meet the tip of his cock. A groan escapes us both. His intoxicating flavor tantalizes my taste buds. My core throbs as I lick and suck his length. I never take my eyes off his. I want him to know that I love him, and nothing in this world could ever take his place. I caress his length, my body humming with passion and longing that can’t be mistaken for anything else. I move my tongue while rolling my hand against his balls. We’re lost in each other, unable to pull our gazes away.
“Kylie, God… Fuck, I have to move.”
I smile and swallow around his cock, giving him the okay. I want it, all of it. He moves, pumping his hips, the tip hitting the back of my throat. I revel in the choking feeling as I relax my throat. I grip his ass and rake my nails across it, leaving my mark. His body’s taut, strung like a bow ready to snap.
“Ahhhhhh, fuck… I’m going to come, sweet girl, and I don’t wanna do it in your mouth. Not this first time.”
He pulls out, his breathing labored. Before I know what’s happening, I’m being dragged up the bed and he’s between my legs. As if a switch has been flipped within him, his face is possessive, primal, and intense. My core aches for him. He’s on his knees in front of my legs. His eyes are so powerful that my heart skips beats.
“Oh God,” I gasp, unable to contain the anticipation buzzing through me. I’m on edge, every cell begs for what Cooper wants to give me.
He looks at my pussy and swallows, taking a few rasping breaths. I tense, not sure what he’s thinking or what he’s going to do. I’m not sure I can take him walking out on me again. I wait, my nerves picking up with every passing second. When his green eyes hit mine, I gasp at the ache I see behind them.
“I’m fighting the urge to take you rough,” he says. “To fuck you hard. To fuck every man who should have never touched this. Should have never seen this. Should have never been here.” Tears fill my eyes at the distressed, low baritone of his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Ready to face us.”
I panic, not wanting him to withdraw. My heart beats so hard that my face throbs, and the whooshing in my ears gets so loud I have to close my eyes. I feel his body slide across mine. I grip my arms tightly around his waist and quiver as tears seep out the corners of my eyes.
“I’m not leaving you, baby. Don’t cry, please. I want to love you tonight. I just want to be honest with you.” His fingers caress my cheek, drying my tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to hurt you.”
My throat is tight, my body aching for him. “Please don’t make me beg for you. I need you. Let me feel you. I want you close. We can figure the rest out later. Right now it’s just you and me. Please.”
His cock nudges my entrance, and I hold my breath, scared he’s going to back away. He looks at me and places a kiss on my lips. Inch by inch, he slides his length into my wet, throbbing core. He groans deeply, burying his face in my neck and sending shocks of electricity through me. My body spasms around his. Once in, he stills, and our labored breathing is the only sound in the room. He pulls his face out of the crook of my neck and looks at me. His expression is so tender, so intimate that tears form in both our eyes.
“Kylie.” His voice is the gentle whisper of a lover coming home after years away.
“Cooper,” I breathe, gripping his face.
He doesn’t move for a while. He just stays inside me, taking in everything. His eyes pierce mine with warmth. My heart burns with a love so deep it’ll never die. A love that borders on addiction, that feeds my will to live.
I lean forward for a soft, intimate kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close. I want our bodies to touch in every area. He begins to move, his chest rumbling with a moan.
I move my hips with his and meet him thrust for thrust as tears flood their way down my face. I feel a burden release from my shoulders as he opens his heart to me. Goose bumps blister a trail of unrelenting bliss all the way up my body as Cooper says my name over and over like a cry to the universe. I cling to him and give him my soul, purging my pain with each of his thrusts. I pray in this moment we’ll be given peace from the heartache that has ravaged our bodies, hearts, and lives.
“Oh… Cooper,” I groan, my body firing rapid spurts of ecstasy.
I can’t contain the tremors that shoot through me and curl my toes as his chest rubs my nipples. He surges in and out with crushing thrusts. He possesses me, putting his stamp on my body and reclaiming me as his. I give him everything as I orgasm, screaming his name and clamping my teeth in his neck.
“Oh fuck, you feel so damn good,” he says. “So good, baby. Nothing compares… nothing. I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He pounds into me until his release shoots through him. Then he pulls his face from my neck, eyes hazy with pleasure. He shakes his head, his hair whipping against his face. “I forgot just how incredible you are. It’s been so long. Too long.”
I smile at him, not knowing what will happen after he leaves our bed, but happy he gave me this. It’s enough to pull me through any future hurdles, to hold me over while we scale the pitfalls of our marriage.
“It has,” I say, leaning into kiss his cheek. “I’ve really missed you, too.”
He smiles and I feel a little flicker of hopefulness swell within me again. “Why don’t you sleep? You’ve been up a while, and it’s getting late.”
He’s right. My body’s exhausted and my mind is ready to say good night, but I don’t want him to move. “I am tired. Will you be here later?”
“Yeah, I’ll be here.” He winks. “I’m not going anywhere. I do need a shower though, if that’s okay?”
I nod. He kisses my head before getting out of the bed. I roll over, feeling nervous energy beginning to whip aroun
d me. We have so much between us, so much to fix. I know sex changes nothing. He’s still unsure of us, of me, and I hate that.
He might not be ready to deal with us.
But I forged ahead anyway, laying my heart and body at his feet. I will choose to wait and give him whatever he needs until he’s ready. I’ve hurt him. I’m not perfect. We’re both responsible for ripping our marriage apart.
I close my eyes and drift off slowly. A little while later, the bed dips and his arms wrap around me. I allow myself a moment of relief. My body lets out a sigh as his warmth cloaks my heart.
All I need is him.
All I want is him.
As I give into the lingering effects of mental and emotional exhaustion, I soak in his body, letting it take me to the only place I’ve ever wanted to be… home.
I lie next to Kylie and watch her sleep, thinking she looks like an angel. Her breathing is easy and deep. The pain she usually wears is gone, giving her a soft, ethereal beauty that draws me in. Her long eyelashes flutter, and the pouty, full lips that I love to kiss, suck and bite are parted slightly as she releases breaths in small puffs. Her black hair cascades down her shoulders and over her breasts, where her sexy pink nipples peek out between the strands.
Her face looks calm and peaceful, reminding me of the girl who stole my heart with one smile. The girl who took, claimed and owned it from the first time I stared into her luminous blue eyes. Eyes that saw right through me. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and all these years later, I still love her. I love her with a burning passion that’s hard to describe, an unending flame I’ll never be able to extinguish.
But loving her has caused unbearable pain. A feeling of worthlessness that I can’t even begin to describe. Loving Kylie has left me powerless. Being a man who’s always dominated and taken care of what’s his, it’s left me feeling like everything I’ve ever done has failed. She’s fucked me in more ways than one and has the power to demolish me completely.
The last two years have changed me as a husband and as a person. The pain that tore through our lives brought an acute awareness that life sucks. That people you love can destroy you.
After we lost Kayla, I thought I’d never again feel that gut-wrenching chasm. That pain that ripped me to pieces, leaving me crippled and out of control. But I was wrong. Really fucking wrong. The pain Kylie handed me was just as bad, slamming a sense of reality into me that I never imagined would come from her.
Her.
My wife.
The woman who owned me.
The woman I’d pledged every part of myself to. I had loved, cherished, and promised the world to her. She broke me and made me bitter. I’ll never forget the day she shattered my world.
It was a shitty, rainy day. I walked into the kitchen and found her throwing up. It caught me by surprise. I thought maybe she had the flu. God knows I wasn’t fucking her, so she couldn’t be pregnant. I was a loser. Something was wrong with me. Something I couldn’t control. I had fought so hard to touch and love her, but I couldn’t do it.
I needed to get myself together, and I never thought I wouldn’t get that from her. I saw her suffering. I saw her spark dimming as she struggled to get out of bed every day. She reached out to me constantly, trying to find solace in me. She cried at night when she thought I was asleep. She prayed quietly, begging God to fix her, to make things better between us. And I lay there, incapacitated by my own feelings of failure. Debilitated by thoughts over which I had no control.
I’d let her down. I had watched her give up our child. I had watched her break, and I’d lost complete control of the situation. I’d never felt so desolate, so blindingly lost. The day I had to go to my daughter’s funeral alone was the lowest point of my life. I went from feeling on top of the world straight to the burning depths of hell. I was powerless.
Completely fucking powerless.
Over the next months, my best friend had stepped in to do stupid things I should’ve been doing but couldn’t. Kylie and I dealt with stuff differently, and I never thought Kylie wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t give me the space I needed.
When she’d approached me about opening our marriage, my stomach ripped open. I thought she’d lost her mind. I knew she felt as though I didn’t love her, which was the furthest thing from the truth. I was dealing with my own failures as a man. I couldn’t function over the loss of my child and the pain my wife was going through. I was having intimacy issues with the woman who ruled my world. I tried my best to skirt around things, but it all became unbearable. I brought her to her breaking point. When she dropped that bomb on me, I thought she was crazy and overreacting. So I shut down.
I never thought she would do it. I was the only man who had ever seen or touched her. I owned every part of her body, every ounce of her soul, and every moment of her life. She belonged to me. Flat out belonged to me, and me to her. I never thought she’d actually fuck another man. Wrong again, motherfucker.
She did, and she did it all in one day.
She doesn’t know this, but I followed her the night she met with him. I followed and watched her meet him for dinner, watched her sit there and smile uncomfortably. Rage beat through me that night. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip apart the son of a bitch, but I had faith that my wife would never fuck me over like that. She just wouldn’t do it. I thought I knew her, could trust her. She was mine.
All mine.
When he held her hand and led her into the hotel, my heart dropped. I followed them and watched her walk into that room, but I still believed she would run out of there. I believed in the girl I married. There was no way she’d let another man touch, undress, and love her.
I waited and waited. Each minute that ticked by incapacitated me. I should’ve gone in there, but I couldn’t. What did I have to give her? Nothing. I prayed she was the girl I thought I knew. The one who would never hurt me that way. But forty-five minutes later, she came running out looking just fucked. In that moment, everything changed between us.
I dug deep and found a way to contain the rage and pain flooding my veins. I didn’t know her anymore. She’d betrayed me, and I used that betrayal to fuel my hatred of her. I needed that to continue living. It was the only thing I could use to drive my inner rage, because the truth was, I was to blame. I was inadequate as a man. I was the one who drove her away, and I was naive enough to believe she would wait.
When she left his room I wanted to die, but more than that, I wanted to hurt them like they did me. So I kicked the motherfucker’s ass until he couldn’t see or stand. Then I went home and waited for her. Ten minutes later, she arrived. I watched her try to sneak in. When she saw me, it was impossible to disguise my brokenness. I tried, but failed. I watched her break too, and as sick as it sounds, a part of me liked watching her suffer. She destroyed me and I wanted her to feel that. I knew things between us were irrevocably broken. I gave up on us. I couldn’t take the pain she’d so coldly handed out in the span of a day.
For the last two years, we’ve been hurting each other. No matter how screwed up it is, we can’t sever our ties. But tonight… Tonight things changed, and I’m scared to death. I don’t know if I’m ready. I knew before I made love to her that putting myself out there could send my life spiraling out of control. But I did it anyway.
For the first time in a long time, I let go. I couldn’t deny my urge to be close to her. It went beyond desire, skating along the edges of pure, primal need. I wanted to own a piece of my wife again. The first touch of her lips was enough to send my senses soaring, igniting the burn I had been dousing for so long. I needed to touch, hold, and feel her against me. I needed to be inside her. I wanted desperately to be reminded of what we were before all of this shit happened to us.
Kylie has the ability to reduce me to nothing. She has such a tremendous amount of power over me that it can become impossible to breathe without her. If I go there again and things get worse…
It’s not that I don’t want
to fix this, because I do. I want to reclaim her. I want to give her everything I promised I’d give her. I’ve never wanted to hurt her. All I’ve ever wanted was to love her, give her the world, and fuck the life right into her. But what price will I have to pay to have her back in my life? Is she going to annihilate me again?
I look at her and try to see the girl I married. The one I wanted nothing but the best for. The one I loved with all my heart. I see her in there, but I also see a woman who has cut me deep, slashing the illusion of happily ever after right out of my mind.
I trail my hand across her silky cheek as I watch her eyelids flutter slightly at the contact. I can tell she senses my touch. She curls in close, almost purring. My heart slams against my chest, and my dick comes to life from awareness of her mere existence. But something else happens too—my stomach clenches in pain.
She holds one too many cards in my life, and I don’t think she has a clue what kind of power she holds over me. In the last two years, I’ve done a good job leading her to believe I don’t give a shit. I needed to do that for my sanity, to keep myself numb and block out the constant pain. But in doing so, I’ve hurt us both.
At what point does the torment we’ve created stop? When do I say ‘enough’ and fight the demons tearing us apart? Do I just say fuck it and put myself at risk to be shattered again? When I look at her like this, relaxed and nestled against me, I want to. I want to take a chance. The truth is, living without her is miserable. But what kind of relationship can we have without trust?
She’s disabled the part of me that can be open and trusting. Sex, no matter how amazing, won’t fill the crater that has taken root inside me. It’s not going to fix the constant burning in my chest when I look at her. It’s not going to erase the haunting images of her with other men.
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