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When I’m finally able to speak again, I tell him what happened. Of how I simply couldn’t hold on to that little life, no matter how much I loved him. Of how I wished Santos had been there to hold my hand as my body rejected the pregnancy.
“It was like I lost you all over again,” I murmur as he strokes my hair.
“You should have waited for me,” he says, his voice tight. “Always wait, because I’ll always come back.”
I pull away to peer up at him. “I want to believe you,” I say in a tone laced with pain and desperate for hope.
“It doesn’t matter if you believe me. Nothing will ever keep me from you Sonia. Whatever happens between us, however far you may seem to be, I’ll never let you go.”
He thrusts his fingers into my hair as he crushes my mouth with his. His kiss is passionate, untamed. But beyond that, there’s need in it. Something visceral that scorches me to my bones.
We tear at each other’s clothes as we frantically seek to touch. His mouth trails down my throat as he walks us toward the small bed. The moment we fall onto it, he pins my arms above my head, holding them tightly with one hand while the other roams.
He’s everywhere at once. His taste is on my tongue, his scent invading my nostrils and his weight pressing into me.
I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing up my hips when I feel him at my entrance. The tip of his dick plays across my clit, inciting a moan before he rams into me. I arch my back, thrusting my breasts into his mouth, every part of me feeling his presence.
He releases my hands and I immediately wind them around his neck as he lets go of my nipples to kiss me once again. With every second that passes, our passion and desire to be joined grows.
Santos drives into me hard and fast, bringing me to the edge of something completely different. Because this is not just a fuck. This is a need to be connected. It’s a way to console each other for what we’ve lost and a promise made that we will always belong to each other.
Though I don’t come when he does, I cry because I’ve achieved another kind of release. It’s the kind that results from letting go of a grudge you’ve had for so long, it’s begun to petrify a part of you.
Tears stream down my temples, and he catches them with his thumbs.
“Forgive me,” he whispers. “Promise you’ll always forgive me.”
“Only if you give me your heart,” I say. “I want your heart.”
“You’ve always had that,princesa.”
