Chapter 43 043
EMILY
I did not know what I was doing.
That thought crashed through my head the moment our lips met again, sharp and clear in a way nothing else was. It was the only thing that made sense.
I thought I was mad. Completely, undeniably mad.
This was Ryan. My ex-husband. The man I had broken. The man I had lost. The man I had never truly stopped loving, even when I had convinced myself I had no right to.
I tried to pull away. It was barely a movement. Just a small shift. A tiny breath of space. I needed a second to think. I needed to remember why this was dangerous. Why this could ruin everything we were slowly trying to rebuild. Why this could hurt us all over again.
But Ryan did not let me.
He pulled me closer, like he had felt the hesitation before I had even understood it myself.
His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, holding me like he was afraid I would disappear if he loosened his grip.
The kiss deepened. It started slow, almost cautious, then turned urgent and hungry, like we were both starving for something we had denied ourselves for far too long. His tongue brushed mine and I whimpered into his mouth, the sound swallowed by him, by us, by the years between us that suddenly felt very thin.
It had been so long.
That thought sank into my bones, heavy and aching. I had not had sex since Ryan left.
Three years of sleeping alone. Three years of touching myself in the dark and pretending it was enough. Three years of waking up with my body aching for someone who was not there and telling myself I deserved the emptiness.
I had told myself it was penance. I had told myself it was safer.
My body did not care about any of that.
It remembered him instantly. Every nerve lit up like it had been waiting. Like it had never forgotten the shape of him, the weight of him, the way he made me feel seen even when I was falling apart.
His hands moved.
First to my waist. His thumbs slid under the hem of my shirt, grazing bare skin, slow and deliberate, like he was reminding himself that this was real.
Then higher.
He cupped my breast through the thin cotton of my bra and squeezed, gentle but firm, just enough pressure to make my back arch.
I gasped against his lips. Heat pooled low in my belly, instant and overwhelming. I was already wet, already aching between my legs, needy in a way that made my head spin.
He squeezed again, his thumb brushing over my nipple, and I moaned. The sound came out low and broken, like it had been pulled from somewhere deep inside me. He swallowed it and kissed me harder, like he wanted every sound I made to belong to him.
We broke apart just long enough to breathe.
Our eyes met.
There were no words. None that could possibly explain that moment anyway. There was just understanding. Mutual. Burning. Heavy with everything we had not said.
He laid me back on the bed.
I went willingly. My heart was pounding. My thighs trembled as the mattress dipped beneath me. I felt exposed in a way that was terrifying and thrilling all at once.
Ryan hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties in one smooth motion, pulling them down my legs and tossing them aside. Cool air hit my skin and I shivered. Not from the cold, but from the way he looked at me. Like I was something precious. Something he had been starving for.
He settled between my thighs.
Lowered his head.
And licked me.
Slow at first. A long, deliberate stroke of his tongue from bottom to top that made my hips jerk off the mattress. Then he did it again, deeper and firmer.
He sucked my clit gently between his lips, his tongue flicking, circling, teasing until I was writhing, my hands fisting the sheets because I did not know where else to put them.
“Ryan…” His name came out as a plea.
He hummed against me, the vibration going straight to my core, and sucked harder. My thighs shook. My breath came in short, desperate pants. He slipped one finger inside me, slow and careful, then another. He curved them. He pressed against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
I came hard.
My whole body shook as I cried out his name. My thighs clamped around his head as wave after wave crashed through me. He did not stop. He kept licking, kept sucking, kept his fingers moving until I was oversensitive and whimpering, tugging at his hair because it was all too much and still not enough.
He finally lifted his head. His lips were shiny. His eyes were dark with want.
I sat up on trembling arms and reached for him. “My turn,” I whispered.
He groaned when I pushed him back against the pillows. My hands shook as I worked his belt and his zipper. He lifted his hips so I could tug his jeans and boxers down just enough. He was already hard, thick, hot, leaking at the tip.
I wrapped my hand around him and stroked once, slow. He hissed through his teeth.
Then I leaned down and took him in my mouth.
He cursed, low and rough. “Em…”
I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting him, then slid down further. I took him deeper. I hollowed my cheeks. I bobbed slowly at first, then faster. His hand found my hair, not pushing, just holding, like he needed an anchor. His hips lifted in shallow thrusts. I hummed around him and felt him throb against my tongue.
“Fuck… baby… just like that…”
I sucked harder. I took him to the back of my throat. He groaned my name like a prayer.
Then he tugged gently. “Stop. I want to be inside you.”
I lifted my head. Our eyes met. They were dark and desperate and full of everything we had not said out loud.
I climbed over him.
I straddled his hips.
I guided him to my entrance and sank down slowly.
We both moaned at the stretch, the fullness, the rightness of it. He filled me perfectly, like he was made for me, like I was made for him.
I rocked slowly at first, my hands braced on his chest. His hands gripped my hips, hard enough to bruise and gentle enough to worship.
Then faster.
Deeper.
We moved together, rhythmic and desperate and perfect. His thumb found my clit. It circled. It pressed.
I shattered again. I clenched around him and cried out his name. He followed seconds later, thrusting up hard and groaning my name against my neck as he came inside me.
We collapsed together.
Sweaty. Shaking. Breathing hard.
Ryan wrapped his arms around me like he was afraid to let go. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat slowly calm, matching mine.
The room was quiet again. The world felt far away.
We did not speak.
We just held each other, tangled and exhausted and fragile, until sleep finally took us.
And for the first time in years, I did not feel alone when I closed my eyes.