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“That’s why you let me take the lead. Why you insist I tell you what I want while we’re fucking.”
“Stop,” he says before letting go of me and sliding his legs off the bed, placing his elbow on his knee and rubbing his fingers along his forehead.
I sit up, pulling the white silk sheet up to cover myself. “You’re afraid to fuck me the way you want to fuck me, Nicoli. Just admit it.”
“Jesus, Mira.” He shoots up and grabs his sweatpants, pulling them on with frustrated jerks.
I scoot to the edge, not taking my eyes off him. “Honesty. That’s what makes this work. That’s what makes us work. So I need you to be honest with me.”
He pulls a hand through his disheveled hair before his gaze meets mine.
I swallow hard, the words bitter on my tongue even before I speak them. “When was the last time you fucked me without…” I suck in a breath, “without thinking…of him—”
“Jesus Christ.”
“—and what he did to me.”
“Mira, that’s bullshit.”
“Is it?” I narrow my eyes at him, studying him, already seeing the truth in his iced irises. “You used to fuck me like I was your heroin, Nicoli. Like I wasn’t just your wife, but your own personal fuck toy, and I loved that. I loved that you wanted me that way, like your desires started and ended with me.”
“It still does.”
“But now—" I launch up “—you touch me like I’m glass. You ask me what I need because you feel it gives you permission to pleasure me. And when I say what it is I need, that’s all you deliver.”
He scoffs, turning away from me and pacing the length of our bedroom floor before stopping. “We can talk about this in the morning.”
“No. I want to talk about it now.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“I don’t fucking care, Nicoli. We need to sort this shit out. It’s been two months. Two goddamn months—”
“Mira—”
“No, Nicoli!” I snap. “Just admit it. Just admit that you think if you let yourself go with me the way you used to, you’ll hurt me.”
“Stop.”
“Or maybe it’s because you see his face every time you’re with me, see his hands all over me, his cock inside me.”
“I said stop!” His voice slams against the ceiling, the sharp warning slicing through my lungs and causing me to suck in a breath. “You’re right. Okay? You’re fucking right. I do think of him touching you, hurting you.”
My heart constricts.
“I’m constantly thinking of what he did to you, what he took from you.”
Tears prickle my eyes as he storms toward me, grabbing my shoulders, his eyes wild and intense. “Not a fucking day goes by that I don’t think about him and how I would die if it means giving you the justice you deserve. But when I’m with you…” he continues, his jaw ticking. “When I’m inside you, that’s the only fucking time I don’t think of him, Mira. It’s the only time I’m not consumed with bloodlust and this overwhelming need for vengeance.” He steps closer, causing me to crane my neck as I look into his eyes. “When we’re in that bed, writhing beneath the sheets, all I think about…is you. About what you want, how you’re feeling, and how badly I fucking failed you.”
“You know it’s not your fault.”
“You know why I ask you ‘permission,’ as you put it. It’s because I want to make sure it’s me inside your head, not him. That it’s me you’re seeing and feeling because I swear to God, if it’s his face you’re seeing while you’re with me, I will die a thousand fucking deaths, Mira. I would slit my own goddamn throat if memories of him haunt you while I’m touching you, kissing you, making love to you.”
I’m not sure if it’s tears I see in his eyes or if it’s just my own welling up in mine, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this way. This vulnerable. This…fragile.
He touches my chin with his thumb, lifting my face toward his. “I can’t stomach it, Hummingbird. I can’t handle the thought of you reliving that hell simply because I can’t control myself with you.” He presses his forehead against mine as I breathe in. “I would rather die than have you see him even once while you’re with me.”
I swallow hard and whisper, “Not once have I mistaken your touch for his. There hasn’t been a single moment that my reality with you has been replaced with the past of him.” My voice hitches as I continue, “You make me forget all of it when we’re together, Nicoli. And that’s why I need all of you. I need to know he’s not there when you’re with me. It’s only us…just like it was before.”
