A Thousand Letters(79)

She'd pushed herself up to sit, taking off her sweater and jeans before climbing under the covers in a tank and her underwear. I slipped in next to her, the heat of her body radiating, mingling with mine as we lay chest to chest, our legs entwined, her arms folded and curled against my chest, my arms around her back, hands in her hair.

It was a moment I'd dreamed of, a moment I'd rejected. It was a moment we'd shared so many times, so many years before. It was the moment, the now, the present. The beginning and the end. The end of our pain. The beginning of our future.

"What happens now?" she asked, her breath skating against the skin of my collarbone.

"Now, we start over. I've got weeks left before I have to go back, and there are still so many things I need to do here. Like spend every second I can with you."

"And then what? What happens when you leave again?" The fear in her voice was slight, controlled — her heartbeat betrayed her.

"That's up to you." I leaned back so I could see her face. "If you're happy, if you still want me, then you can tell me what you want. If you want to come with me, you can. If you want to stay, I'll wait for you. I'll wait forever, if you want. I'll give you anything, if you ask."

She closed her eyes for a moment, opening them again to show me her shining irises. "I've waited for a second chance to answer this question. I've dreamed of what it would be like to give the answer I wish I had so long ago. And now I can tell you that I will follow you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, if you'll give me your heart in exchange for mine."

"My heart has been yours as long as it's been beating. It'll be yours until it beats its last."

A sparkling tear rolled down her cheek, and she cupped my jaw, leaning in to kiss me, sealing the promise.

As my fingers wound through her hair, the kiss deepened, the urgency we'd lacked before now present in her hips pressing against mine, in her hands holding my face. The time apart had erased nothing — I knew her body if it were my own. The last time I'd been with her, I'd been driven by fear, by pain. Now, I was only driven by my love for her.

My hand trailed down her ribs, down the valley of her waist, to the curve of her hip. I savored every touch: the warmth of her skin under my palm, the weight of her body against mine, the softness of her lips as they moved gently against my own. The moments of waiting, of pain and longing, they had washed over me, passed through me, leaving me clean and new.

Her hips rolled against mine as we kissed, her body asking to be touched. Her fingertips roamed from the seam of our lips to my jaw and neck, across the place where my heart thumped in my ribs and down the ridges of my stomach. And as she touched me, I touched her, hands slipping under her tank, pulling it up with my wrist, fingers hooking in the edge of her bra to bare her. My palm cupped the swell of her breast, my thumb grazing her peaked nipple, the sweet softness of her body memorized by my skin.

She gasped against my lips, her body arching, and she tilted her head, tipping her chin up. But my lips couldn't stop, and they made their way down her long neck, to her collarbone, to her breast as she clutched me to her, hands twisted in my hair. I was surrounded by her, my thigh between her legs, her arms all around me, her skin everywhere, and I wanted every inch.

Lower I went, my busy lips seeking work, making a trail down her body as my hands rolled her onto her back, then moved down her stomach, to her panties. My fingers hooked them, pulling them down her thighs, her calves, away, my chest aching at the sight of her stretched out before me, all porcelain skin and dark eyes. Her breath was heavy as she crossed her arms to reach for the hem of her shirt and pull it off, the two of us undressing quickly.

The last time I held her, I was broken, unseeing what I had, unknowing what she could be. But now, with Elliot in my arms, I took nothing for granted. I knew what I had, and I'd hold on to her until the last beat of my heart.

She reached for me, and I filled her arms; I'd give her anything she wanted, forever.

I hovered over her, and she held my face, telling me with her eyes alone all the things I knew to be true. That she loved me. That she was sorry. That I was forgiven. That it was forever. And then I kissed her, giving myself to her in all the ways I could.

For a long moment, our bodies were still as we kissed, our only focus that place where our lips touched, where our tongues danced, but with every breath, heat spread across our skin. She moved, shifting until her thighs rested against my ribs, opening her up to me, her hips angling as her body reached for me. I was pressed against the heat of her, and with a shift of my hips and a flex, I filled her, connected to her, body and soul.

Neither of us breathed, our eyes locked, my heart thudding desperately in my chest as her lids fluttered closed. She took a breath that sounded like a sigh. I took a breath that shuddered with emotion.

Every movement was long and slow, deliberate. Her head turned to the side, lips parted, body rocking against mine. My arms, my back, my legs trembled as I moved slowly, deliberately, my pulse racing faster with every flex, and a soft sound passed her lips. I pressed harder, and she gasped. Harder still and my name, a whisper, slipped into the air. And then, just before I lost my composure, her back arched, her breath gone, lost from between her parted lips, the squeeze and pulse of her body around me taking me with her. And I let go too, the past, my pain, my heart and soul. I let it go and gave it to her.

Our bodies slowed to a gentle wave, my heart thundering as I buried my face in the curve of her neck, her heartbeat fluttering under her skin against my lips as her arms wrapped around me, cradling me.