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She releases me. “I don’t think I’ll be any good tonight,” she says, dejected. This is not the time to want her. We’re both fragile in our grief. The world is off kilter. But the wretchedness radiating off of her…
I need to show her how loved she is, how deserving of love she is. “You don’t have to be.” I brush my lips against hers. Once, twice. By the third time, her lips are trembling. I pull back to see her fighting against tears. “Let me make love to you.”
Nothing about her is submissive. She doesn’t relinquish control. Even when following orders, she does it her own way. Rowan Monaghan takes everything and makes it hers entirely, me included. But she inhales the deepest lungful of air, and nods. I take her by the hand and lead her to the tent.
I undress her slowly. Sheer-white shirt. Black tank. Board shorts. She’s fully nude before she reaches for the shoulder straps of my dress. I read her mien. She’s pleading with me: I need to feel your skin to be reminded I’m still alive. I let her slip off my dress, my bathing suit. She touches me everywhere as she does, doesn’t miss an inch.
She allows me to lay her down on the mattress. I lie on top of her. Then her fingers are tangling in my hair and I’m kissing her, tenderly, as if her lips are bruised. She accepts my tongue into her mouth. She tastes like marshmallows and remorse. I move my kisses to her neck, trace the hollow of her throat with my tongue. I massage her breasts, feel her nipples harden beneath my palms. Any other night, I’d pinch. Tonight, she’ll be caressed.
She’s starting to breathe heavily. I run my hand down her stomach, her pelvis. My fingers find her slit, wet and ready. She guides me to her clit instead. “Please,” she mumbles. It’s desperate, needy. Vulnerable.
“Okay, sweetheart.” I use her wetness to tease her, soft and slow until she swells, then add more pressure and pick up speed. Now I know that she likes fast, firm circles right on the bud. I find the tempo that has her throbbing. It isn’t long before her orgasm crests. She closes her eyes, starts bucking against my fingers and tugging my hair. Her abs go taut, and her thighs begin to quiver. Sweet little moans leach from her lips. I could gobble up that sound. I kiss her again, more fervently. She sucks on my tongue. Her screams of pleasure resonate in my mouth as she comes. I shift my weight off of her, let her breathe—I know she needs to.
She’s like a different person when she opens her eyes again. They’re fiery, not forlorn. “I want you to fuck me as hard as you can.”
“What?” If we live a thousand years, those are not words I’d expect to hear from her.
“I need you to hurt me, Juliet.”
“No.”
“No?”
“If you want to fuck hard for fun, we can. But I’m not going to hurt you because you think you should be punished, Rowan.”
Countless different emotions flash across her face in an instant. She wrenches me to her and, without warning, she’s crying more fiercely than I fathomed a person could, her face buried in my chest, hot tears assaulting us both. She’s shaking. I’m shaking. The mattress is shaking. I drape myself around her, like body armor made of flesh and bone. “I’ve got you,” I whisper into her ear. I’ll never let go.
Seagulls. Two of them at least, cawing at each other. Rays of sunlight stream into the tent. I’m holding Rowan. Her head is in the crook of my shoulder, her arm is slung across my stomach, and our legs are intertwined. I don’t remember falling asleep. We must have crashed instead of drifting into it. Wakefulness slowly seeps into me, and I marvel at the fact that I’m holding her. I doubt she’s let anyone do that before. Always the top, always in charge. I smooth her dark, bedraggled tresses. You’ve met your match in me, darling.
I get a few more quiet moments of playing with her hair before she wakes. She yawns, covering her mouth with her forearm. “I passed out.”
“Me too.”
She scoots away from me, plumps a pillow under her head. “Sorry for being such a mess last night.”
At second glance, I see that the whites of her eyes are inflamed. I cup the back of her neck and rest my forehead against hers. “You don’t have to apologize for having feelings and showing them.”
“Not that. I’m sorry for asking you to do something I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable doing.”
“I don’t mind getting rough once in a while; sex like that can be amazing. But not if either of us is in a bad place emotionally.”
She kisses me, then turns her head. “Shit, I have lobster breath, don’t I?”
“Don’t worry about it. If you do, I do, too.”
“Fair. Get over here and let me hold you for a while.”
“Why, Ms. Monaghan, you downlow cuddlebug.”
She sniggers as I curl into her. Once I’m settled, she trails her fingers up and down my spine so wispily I’d swear they were feathers. “What do you wanna do today?” she asks.
“Is this not an option?”
“It is, but there are others. We could go on a hike or a whale watching tour.”
“Ooh, whale watching. I’ve never done that. There are seals here! I love seals. They’re adorable.”
“Seals attract sharks. I like sharks.”
