“Because he misses her…” My chest is rising and falling with heavy breaths, my heart thumping as I whisper my answer, recalling the story I told him before. “Because he loves her but can’t touch her, can’t be with her.”
He lets the silver moon drop from his fingers, moving his hands to the bottom of my shirt. Pressing up my sides, he starts lifting my top. I raise my arms and he pulls it off, the fabric falling to the floor as he gently spins me to face away. The clasp of my bra unclipping a second later. I let it fall off my arms as he reaches around my waist to push my leggings and underwear over my hips.
He stands after helping me step from the fabric, his lips brushing along the back of my neck to whisper against my skin. “The wolf gets his moon tonight.”
His soft voice falls over my goosebumped skin like a blanket, the weight of his words heavy on my chest. My heart wants nothing but to be his tonight.
I missed this.
I missed him.
I missed him more than I wanted to admit to myself.
His touch is familiar and new at the same time. His normal sweet caresses tangling with his hurt. I can feel his fingers digging into my flesh as he drags his hands up my ribcage, the slight bite in his touch reminiscent to his underlying frustrations. I slip a hand over my shoulder and into his hair, pulling his face closer as he places wet kisses along my neck. His tongue comes out to taste my skin, teeth biting hard enough that I know he’s leaving marks for everyone to see tomorrow. Branding me so everyone will know I was his, even if for just a night.
I spin in his arms, watch his crystal eyes as they slip over my skin, his gaze alone worshipping me in ways no one else ever has. His voice is low when he speaks, his bottom lip wet from his tongue. “Say it again.”
I know what he wants to hear without explanation. The pain scraping along his vocal cords, making my own tighten. I hesitate, knowing this will do nothing but cut us both.
He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, pulling my bare chest flush with his, using an arm on my back. His palm splays between my shoulder blades as his breath feathers over my lips, repeating himself. “Say it again.”
Unable to deny him a second time, the words squeeze past my lips. A single tear sliding down my cheek along with them. “I love you.”
And I have loved him. I loved him when I didn’t even know I loved him. I was so consumed in Donatello that I never stopped to consider my heart was broken over losing Jessie last summer. Never stopped to consider that the reason I fell so far into the deep was because I was mourning the loss of him. Jessie may have been intentionally placed in my life, but he helped me when no one else could. Helped mend a heart he didn’t break. I fell in love with Jessie that first time he let me cry on his shoulder over another man. I just didn’t know it until it was too late.
“I love you.” I repeat, his face blurry.
Pressing his forehead to mine, he rocks us slightly, his big body wrapped around me. I can hear the hard swallow he forces down, feeling the banging of his heart against my own. I can practically feel it breaking through his ribs, the crack stealing my breath while more tears fall. He doesn’t say it back and I know it’s because it’d be too painful for him.
It’s a pain I’m all too familiar with. One I never should have let him feel. Even understanding it, not hearing it back splinters my heart in a way it’s never cracked before. Stabbing my lungs so painfully it’s a struggle to breathe.
I bring my hands to his face, my fingertips tracing along his jaw until my palms cup his cheeks. Rising on my toes, I pull his lips to mine. It’s a soft closed mouth kiss that feels more intimate than any we’ve shared before. Both of us sinking into our heartbreak. My cheeks are wet, sticky on my face as he sinks his fingers into my hair, his thumbs brushing my temples as he holds me almost too hard. My chest shudders with a silent cry, forcing me to pull back to suck air into my burning lungs.
“Non piangere Laney Girl, ti ho ora.” Don’t cry Laney Girl, I have you now.
I close my eyes with his words, pinching my lips in an attempt to stop my tears. I feel his lips press the corner of each of my eyes, kissing the tears away. They trail down, over my cheeks, silently wiping the fat drops away. When his lips come back to mine, they’re salty and wet.
Pressing into him, I flatten my chest to his, my heart arching to reach his through the centimeters separating us. His hands drop from my head to my thighs, easily lifting me despite the dark blotchy bruising that litters his torso, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pressing my pussy flush against his tight belly. Walking toward the bed, our lips separate for a heartbeat as he drops me onto the mattress. He kicks his joggers and boxers onto the floor before crawling with me farther up the sheets.
His calloused palm pushes along my skin, hand trailing down to tease his fingers along my wet slit and our lips break at the contact. My head arching back against the pillows as his teeth scrape a path over my chin and down my neck. He trails soft, wet kisses along the valley
