Page 238 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
My chest stutters.
“Take me.”
The words land. And something in me splits. Because I want to. God, I want to. Every part of my body is already responding, already moving toward her, already imagining the weight of her under me, the sound she makes when I give her exactly what she’s asking for.
But my feet stay planted. My hands stay at my sides. Because the other voice is louder. The one that remembers. The one that sees her broken. The one that refuses to risk it.
“I can’t,” I force out, even though it feels like it’s tearing my throat open to say it.
Her face changes. Not dramatically. Not loudly. But enough. Enough that I feel it. And then she says it again.
“Take me.”
Softer this time. More fragile.
And that, that’s what fucking kills me.
Because she shouldn’t have to say it twice.
She shouldn’t have to say it at all. And I did that. I made her ask. I made her feel like she has to convince me to want her.
My vision blurs for half a second with the force of it.
And then, she moves. Her hands lift. Slow. Deliberate. And when they touch me, when her palms slide up my thighs, everything inside me snaps.
It’s not gradual. It’s not controlled. It’s not something I can think through or reason with.
It’s instinct.
Raw.
Immediate.
Violent in the way it tears through every restraint I’ve been holding in place. Because it’s her. Because it’s mywifetouching me like she needs me.
Because I can feel the heat of her hands through the fabric, the intent in the way she moves, the trust in the fact that she’s still reaching for me even after everything I’ve done to hold her at a distance.
And I can’t hold back anymore.
I drop.
My knees hit the floor in front of her without me even realizing I’ve moved.
My hands come up to her face, gripping her like I need to anchor myself to something real, something alive, something mine, and then my mouth is on hers.
There is nothing gentle about it.
Nothing careful.
Nothing restrained.
It’s hunger.
It’s need.
It’s everything I’ve been forcing down clawing its way back to the surface all at once. I kiss her like I’ve been starved. Like I’ve been denied. Like I’m trying to prove something to both of us at the same time.
Her.
