Page 184 of Requiem
My hips roll against her in time with the bass line. She meets every thrust with a soft, breathy sound. My hands slide up her sides, over her ribs, pulling her upright against my chest. Her back presses to my front, her head falling back against my shoulder, and I reach around to cup her jaw, turning her face toward mine.
That’s when I see the tears. They’re slipping down her cheeks, catching the low lamplight.
“Emma.” I stop moving. Still inside her. “Hey. Look at me, baby.”
Her eyes find mine, more beautiful than ever, because she’s smiling. She’s not hurt. She’s overwhelmed.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.
She nods. “This is just…” She sniffs, gathering herself. “For so many years, I dreamt of this. Of becoming your wife, and loving each other every day for…forever.”
I brush my thumb across her cheek, catching the tears before they reach her jaw. “I love you,” I tell her, and my voice cracks on the words.
She smiles, a sob catching in her throat.
Gently, I turn her. Lay her back on the bed, and settle between her thighs. When I push inside again, I keep my eyes on hers. I don’t look away. Ican’t. Her nails dig into my shoulders, and I kiss her, slowly and deeply, while I find a rhythm that feels like a heartbeat.
Several songs pass while I love her in the most meaningful way I can. Deeper drives of my hips draw a soft yelp from her mouth into mine. I swallow each one.
My Emma.
This incredible, beautiful, brave woman who walked through fire to find me again. The way she loves me…I know that it’s rare in this great big world. It’s what everyone wants. And I’ve got it. By some goddamn miracle, I’ve got it. And I’m never letting it go.
The next song is one that I recognize instantly.“Unworthy”by Vancouver Sleep Clinic. That aching, ethereal swell fills the room.
She clenches around me, and another tear slides toward her temple. I kiss it away.
“I’ve got you,” I rasp against her skin.
Her hands skim my back, nails trailing light lines down my spine. “Jude—” Her voice breaks on my name, breath hitching, body tightening beneath me in that way I know by heart now.
I don’t speed up. I don’t get harder. I stay right there, sinking into her with that same deep, relentless rhythm. “There you go, baby.”
Her head kicks back, and she shatters around me. Her body clamps down, pulsing, and I watch her face the whole time. I’m obsessed with her face. I always have been, but more so after everything I was put through in Moscow.
I ride her through it until my own release slams into me. I bite down on the place between her shoulder and neck, gentler than I want to, and empty everything I have inside her with a groan. Before I can catch my breath, she’s pulling me into another kiss. Her hands cup my face, her tongue sliding over mine, and I sink into it, giving a few more deep thrusts until I’m spent.
The song swells, and I press my forehead to hers.
Her thumb traces the line of my jaw. “Jude.” Her voice is hoarse, barely there. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
I didn’t realize I was crying now, too. Damn.
She brushes the wetness from my cheek, and the tenderness of the gesture has me closing my eyes for a moment. I kiss her palm, her wrist, her ring finger where the band sits. And then I meet her eyes, those light brown eyes that hold everything I’ve ever wanted.
“I love you, Emma Graves,” I whisper against her skin. “Thank you for never giving up on me. Even when I wanted to give up on myself.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I kiss her before she can.
***
After a shower and some cupcakes from the reception, we end up on the back porch with the door left open behind us. It’s dark enough that we can’t see the ocean in front of us, but we can definitely hear it. Emma sits on my lap, wearing one of my baggy band shirts and my favorite pair of white boyshorts. We don’t bother lighting the fire, because right now, existing in the darkness feels right.
My arms settle around her, my fingers tracing slow, absent patterns against her skin. She leans back into me with a soft exhale, and I press a kiss to her cheek, then her jaw, then the place just beneath her ear where she shivers slightly and smiles like she’s trying not to cry.
Neither of us speaks for a while. We don’t need to, after what we’ve just done.
Eventually, she tilts her head back, eyes finding the sky, her voice soft. “We really did it,” she says.
