“Fuck, yes.” I tug on her hair, and she cries out with the bit of pain I’ve caused but presses down along my cock over and over. She bucks and grinds her sex wildly, until together we’re a panting, sweaty mess.
I remove my hand from behind her back, tunnel my fingers down into the front of her yoga pants and inside her panties, and press two digits deep, swirling my thumb around her clit. It’s hard as a rock and hot to the touch.
She cries out with pleasure, her pussy convulsing around my imbedded fingers, her body arching beautifully. I take as much of her breast into my mouth as I can so I’ve got a piece of her everywhere I can hold. My mouth on her tit, my fingers deep inside her slit, and her arms wrapped around me. I press up against her curves, the movement taking me over along with her.
I take her mouth and kiss her hard, pressing my fingers up and in until her body locks around mine. My own arousal is racing through my system, drawing up and down my limbs, igniting a passion so intense, I know I’ll be ruined from it. I shudder, my orgasm rippling along my spine, down into my cock and balls, and shredding me completely.
I lay my lips over a pillowy section of her breast, bite down on the soft globe, and then suck as hard as I can. Her sex tightens around my fingers, and I fuck her with them while I’m still coming until she goes off a second time, her body wrung so tight, I can barely keep hold of her. But I do. I’ll never let her go. Not ever.
When she has passed the pinnacle of her release, her entire body slumps against mine in a panting, loose-limbed heap. I remove my fingers and wrap my arms around her, cuddling her close.
“You’re safe with me. I’m going to take care of you.”
She nuzzles against my neck. “You shouldn’t have to.”
“I want to.” I run my hands up and down her back. “But you know what?”
“What?” Her words are whispers of air against my heated neck.
“You’re going to have to take care of me too.”
Her body stiffens before she lifts her head and looks at me with the most soulful gray eyes. “I’d like that more than anything.”
“Good, because you’re not going anywhere for a long time, maybe not ever.”
“As long as I’ve got you, I could live with that.” She smiles, and I could almost swear that smile was a promise.
I tip her head toward my chest. “Rest now. I’ve got you.”
Chapter Fifteen
The throat chakra couple will typically have vast musical, artistic, and poetic tastes. Their ability to see beauty and delicacy in everyday things allows them to have happier, more fulfilled lives. It is not uncommon for a person driven by the throat chakra to be a natural singer. These people will often be told they have “God-given talents” that others don’t have.
HONOR
Dear Hannon,
I made a terrible mistake a week ago. I hurt myself and the man I care very deeply for. It was much worse than I’ve ever done before. I didn’t mean to take it so far. If you were here, you’d have been so angry. But you’re not here, Hannon. You left. I have to live with the decision you made each and every day.
It’s hard not having you here to talk to, to hug, to love. To know that my brother is by my side…
How could you?
I know you didn’t want Sean hurt, but he’s not the only one you left behind. He’s not the only one who loved you. I’m your sister, your twin, the other half of your soul. You destroyed me when you took your life. And now, I’m left to pick up the pieces of mine, one shard at a time, not knowing how to put myself back together.
Nick is helping.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was an angel, a saint sent down from above in order to help me see there’s a beautiful life to live if I just reach out and grab for it. He’s teaching me this. Every day.
I wish you could meet him. You’d have liked him. He’s rough around the edges and bossy. So bossy, but it doesn’t bother me. It shows he cares. I don’t know what he sees in me, because he deserves a perfect woman, a whole woman. Yet he won’t walk away. He tells me time and time again that he’s going to stay.
I’m scared, Hannon, because I’m starting to believe him.
I miss you.
I love you.
Your sister,
Honor
I tuck my journal under the mattress by the side of the bed I’ve been sleeping on. A full week has passed since I was released from the hospital and moved into Nick’s apartment. My injuries are healing well, and they barely hurt. Nick tends to my bandages each morning and every night like my own personal physician. He’s amazing. Never making me feel less than for what I did. He just accepts the things he cannot change and moves on. I want to learn from him.
We’ve spent the week moving around each other in harmony. Making meals, working in the gym, side by side. I’ve never felt more happily settled in a routine. Twice a week, therapy with Dr. Batchelor, who is easier to trust than I thought she would be. Lunch with Dr. Hart, who insists I call her Monet or Moe like everyone else. I can sense her sincerity to be friends with me. I may invite Grace next week. They already know each other, and Grace has been calling my phone nonstop all week with requests to meet up. All of which I’ve denied, wanting to let my wounds heal a bit more figuratively and literally. Overall, it’s been a wonderful week. Being
