I drove my car down the winding roads in a vacant state. My body was stiff, my face showed no emotion, and I felt absolutely fucking nothing. I’d been like this for the last six months, moving on autopilot. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept for more than an hour or two. My mind wouldn’t stop reeling, playing out my entire fucking life every time I closed my eyes.
It was a whirlwind of emotions.
A catalyst of memories.
An unrelenting nightmare I was living in broad daylight.
Despite my numb state, I was still able to graduate at the top of my class and early from law school. It was the only thing that kept me going. I drowned myself in school work, classes, and Emilio. Going as far as picking up some extra shifts at the prison to take out my frustrations through torturous acts. Dreadfully trying to get through the days and nights. Knowing nothing would change. Tomorrow would be the same as the day before. They were all on constant repeat, even though I was going forward in time. I tried not to think about Evita, mindful that everything she had ever told me was yet another fucking lie. I couldn’t stand seeing, feeling, or smelling her presence around my apartment. I took care of the issue the only way I saw fit. I fucking burned her belongings.
The one woman I actually allowed into my real life, ended up being like the rest of them.
Another goddamn traitor.
Maybe it was my karma for all the lives I’d taken and the one heart I’d broken. Over and over again. Rosarío and Emilio were the only two people who knew the truth about Evita’s untimely demise. There was no getting around the truth; it was what it was.
No fucking regrets.
I did what I had to do.
As always, Rosarío provided the support I needed, being the only mother I’d ever known. Emilio, on the other hand, patted my back and laughed it off. Saying some shit about all women being lying whores.
Amira tried to reach out to me after Evita’s death a few times. I assumed Rosarío told her one thing or another, but never the truth. She left me countless messages that went unreturned but not unheard. I’d often sit out on the balcony and replay them just to hear her sweet voice that always brought me comfort in her absence and in my time of need. I tried like hell to not go to her. The last thing I wanted was for Amira to think she was my rebound. She didn’t deserve all this fucked-up shit, she never asked for it. She certainly wouldn’t give a shit about the fucking birthday present I was about to deliver.
But I did.
As much as I wished I didn’t, I cared. A lot. I had missed her last few birthdays, and it almost crushed me not being there for all her important days. I spent her last birthday with Evita in my bed and Amira on my mind. I wasn’t about to miss this one too. I just needed to see her face, wish her a happy birthday, and talk to her for a few minutes, if she would allow it. Those were my only intentions and expectations as I drove over to Rosarío’s house, feeling a sense of something I couldn’t even explain or begin to understand.
Maybe it was the feeling of going home.
Then again, it could have just been Amira. The only person on the entire planet that could physically bring me to my fucking knees with as little as a look.
I didn’t deserve her.
I never asked for her.
I couldn’t have been more grateful to have her.
Amira didn’t deserve me either, but no amount of training could ever condition her out of my life. I’d conformed to a lot of things I wasn’t proud of, but Amira would never be one of them. She had always been my refuge from the chaos going on in my daily life.
She was the exception.
She was my exception.
Deep down I was hoping she wouldn’t be home, but even deeper than that, I prayed she was. My heart sped up a few extra beats when I stepped out of my car. Once again, I thought about how unprepared I was to actually see her. It felt like a lifetime had passed since we had talked, over a year and a half ago. This was the longest span of time I’d ever gone without her. My adrenaline pumped wildly through my veins with each step that brought me closer to the entrance.
To her.
With a long, deep, reassuring breath, I walked up the stairs to the porch and just as I was about to knock, the light flicked on and the door opened. I wasn’t expecting to come face to face with Amira. Her expression left me in a state of fucking shock, not really knowing what to say or how to even say it.
For a brief second, we both stood there without saying a word. I spent the last six months dead inside, and all it took was one fucking moment between us to feel alive again.
She was so fucking perfect.
So fucking mine.
She was wearing a pair of pink cotton shorts and a tight white tank top. Without even dropping my eyes, I could see her midriff where her tank didn’t quite cover her sun-kissed skin. She held a bowl in her hands with strawberry ice cream melting inside. She’d always stir it in a circle until it was a smooth and creamy consistency before she’d eat it. It was one of her silly quirks I’d grown to love. I tried to focus on anything other than the deafening silence between us, keeping me from forming any coherent thoughts. Not one single word came to my mind. When I had thousands I wanted to say to her.
She was the first to break the silence, saying, “She’s not home. Mama Rosa went to Havana to help a friend. Something you would know nothing about. I’ll tell her you stopped by.” Her trying to slam the fucking door in my face was the only trigger I needed to snap out of my hypnotic state. The best thing about my personality was my ability to act quickly, and this was my moment to strike.
My hand stopped the door faster than she could close it, and I easily held her and the solid wood back. “I didn’t come to see her. Let me in, open the door,” I ordered in a neutral, but demanding, tone.
“Why? What do you want, Damien?”
“You know what I want. It’s your birthday.”
“Yeah? I had one last year too, and the year before that and the year before that, and you didn’t bother to show up for any of those either.”
“I stopped by for your seventeenth birthday, and you weren’t here. I had a gift delivered for your eighteenth birthday, but it went unacknowledged, by you. Now I’m standing here for your nineteenth birthday with yet another gift, so please open the goddamn door.”
“What happened on my sixteenth birthday, Damien? Huh? Oh, yeah! I remember, you fucked a woman in front of me! Now, guess what? I don’t want anything from you other than for you to leave!”
Without a fight, I pushed through the door, moving her out of the way so I could gaze into her solemn eyes. “You know you don’t mean that. I fucked up, Amira. All I do is fuck up when it comes to you. But I still remember the girl who used to anxiously wait for me in her reading nook that I built just for her. You love gifts. You always have. It’s why you look forward to your birthday and Christmas, and all the times you knew I was coming to see you. I did nothing but fucking spoil you, and now all I want to do is to give you my gift. If you still want me to leave after you open it, I will. But I’m hoping that won’t be the case.”
She glanced at the package, wrapped in white paper with a satin blue bow in my arms and reluctantly nodded, letting me in. Probably because she knew I wouldn’t leave until I got my way. My hand immediately touched her soft skin on the small of her back, causing her breath to hitch. She wasn’t expecting to feel the emotions that the slightest bit of my touch could evoke. I hid back a smile, guiding her toward the couch in the living room to sit down, internally struggling to let her go.
“Damien, I don’t know if this is such—”
I grabbed the bowl out of her lap, quickly replacing it with my present. Trying to distract her from what she was going to say. “Pull the ribbon,” I insisted, crouching down in front of her to explain as she opened it.
Amira did as she was told, pulling off the bow and lifting the lid from the package. I couldn’t fucking resist, I never could when it came to her, and I took a bite of her ice cream. Knowing her sweet mouth was on the exact same spoon minutes ago.
The expression on her face pulled me away from my conscious thoughts, assuring me that she had no idea what the gift was. She took out the handcrafted box and held it out in front of her. “I don’t get it. What’s it supposed to be?”
Taking one last bite of ice cream, I traded her the bowl for the box. Lifting the silver lid, showing her exactly how it worked. “A guy in Havana makes them. It’s made from clay and when you put a candle in it, it heats up to help keep you warm.”
She sucked in her bottom lip, stirring her ice cream. Trying to act unfazed like she wasn’t the least bit interested, but I knew she was. “So what’s so special about that?”
I was unable to hold back a smile that time, her snarky little mouth always had a way of making me laugh. I reached for the candle that was still inside the wrapping and set the box on the end table next to us. Quickly turning off the lamp, needing the room to be somewhat dark in order for her gift to work.
“The special part comes when you light the candle and place the lid back on top of the box,” I told her, handing her the wooden matches out of my pocket. “Go ahead, light the candle, Muñeca.”
I hadn’t called her that in years, and it felt so fucking perfect falling from my lips. For a few more seconds, her eyes stayed connected to mine and it was clear that she was thinking the same thing I was. But she shook it off, continuing to act unfazed like the term of endearment didn’t mean anything to her, when it meant everything to the both of us. She lit the matchstick and leaned forward to light the candle.
“Look up, Amira.”
Her eyes noticeably widened, and her mouth dropped open when her eyes gazed up at me. I swear I heard a gasp escape her lips as she took in the significance and sentiment behind her gift. She opened her mouth several times to say something, though nothing came out. She couldn’t speak. She could barely even keep up with all the memories tumbling down on her from that night. I took it upon myself to speak for her, pointing to the stars on the ceiling, and connecting the dots in the same way she had in the night sky, four years ago.
Repeating her same words, I reiterated, “That’s Princess Andromeda and that’s her husband, Perseus. Do you see how they unite in the middle? You can’t tell where one star ends and the other begins, kind of like they’re holding hands.”
For a few moments, I had all of her…
Her mind.
Her body.
Her soul.
Her heart.
They all came back to me, like they had never left to begin with.
They’ve always been mine.
“Wow… Damien, I can’t… I mean… wow…” she breathed out, running her hand over the warming box. “What are these stars?” she questioned in an engrossed tone, gliding the tips of her fingers over the blue stars and then the only silver one.
“Nine kids,” I said, light-heartedly with a grin, hoping for a smile.
I got a condescending glare, instead. “Why is there only one silver?”
“The blue ones are all boys.”
And there it was. The giggle that got me through so much fucking shit. To this day it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. I had almost forgotten what it sounded like, and that was something I never wanted to forget. Even if it was quickly silenced, it was enough to take me a long, long, fucking way.
“Thank you, Damien, but none of this changes anything. You can’t show up here after a year and a half with a present and think everything is okay. It’s not. I tried calling you, I stopped by your apartment even though I promised myself I’d never step foot in there again. But I did it for you. I was worried about you. I mean, I can’t imagine what it was like to lose your wife. To a car accident of all things.”
I kept my composure, knowing it was the lie that Rosarío conjured up to tell her. Simply stating, “We’re not talking about her.”
“I know… I get it… To love someone and—”
“I love you, Muñeca. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.” It was the first time I’d ever expressed those three words to her out loud. I had to finally say them. They stayed dormant, pent up in me for as long as she had been in my life. She didn’t try to hide the heartwarming expression on her face this time. Even though she already knew my feelings, I think a part of her also knew how hard it was for me to express them to her.
To anyone…
But especially her.
She swallowed hard. “Damien—”
I was over to her in one stride, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. I placed my hands on the sides of her face and gazed deep into her eyes underneath our stars. Finally uttering my fucking truth to her. “I came here to wish you a happy birthday, to give you your gift, and to tell you I fucking love you, Muñeca. I will always, no matter what, love you. I need you to remember that. You think you could do that for me?”
Her eyes followed my every word. They were my undoing, filled with so much love for me still, but in one quick movement, she grabbed my wrists, pulled my hands off the sides of her face, and stood. Walking away, leaving me sitting there wondering what the fuck just happened.
With a cold stare, she instantly spewed, “Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you can just show up here one day and…and what, Damien? Pick up where we left off?” She glared at me, slowly shaking her head in a calculated motion. “Like we’re just going to go back to the time you looked at me like someone you used to know? Or worse, someone you didn’t?”
I stood, abruptly walking over to her. She didn’t cower down when my large, muscular frame overshadowed hers as I pressed her against the wall. Closing her in with my arms at the sides of her face, needing to prove my fucking point. Her resolve shattered when I leaned forward, slowly moving my lips over to her ear. My hot breath igniting tingles to run down her spine. I whispered, “I miss you. I love you. I’m in love with you.” One by one her reactions radiated off her skin, causing all sorts of other sensations. I had my girl right where I wanted her.
Vulnerable.
I could feel her tense frame tremble at my mercy. Knowing damn well I was at her mercy too.
It didn’t take much for my mouth to be close to hers. I pulled her closer to me by the nook of her neck until I could feel her unstable breath against my lips. Assaulting every last fiber of my fucking being.
I groaned inches away from her lips, “Does this feel like someone who doesn’t know you?”
“You can’t—”
“I can’t do what? Eh? Tell me, Muñeca? What the fuck can’t I do? Because I’m not the one who’s pretending like they don’t know every last thing about me.” I suddenly grabbed her wrists and brought them above her head. Holding them hostage in my tight grasp while I softly gripped onto the front of her neck. My thumb and index finger clutched over her pulse that heightened with my touch. “All I’ve ever done is try to protect you. From Emilio, from my father… from me.”
She shut her eyes, my words too painful for her to hear.
“You’re safe, and that’s all that has ever mattered to me. You deserve so much more than anything I could ever offer you, Amira. But exactly like those constellations, neither one of us knows where one starts or the other ends. And nothing will ever fucking change that,” I vowed close to her lips.
I wanted to touch her.
I wanted to kiss her.
Mostly, I wanted to fucking claim her.
Never understanding how something so wrong…
Could feel so fucking right.
I was the first to pull away from her. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to let her go. I accomplished what I came for, and it was time for me to leave. She immediately opened her eyes, staring intently into mine as if she knew what I was thinking. Not wanting me to go as much as I didn’t want to fucking leave.
“I’m sorry, Muñeca. For the past, for now, for the future… for everything.” With that I kissed the top of her head, letting my lips linger for a few seconds too long before I reluctantly let her go. Walking toward the front door, leaving everything I ever wanted behind.
Her.
I placed his gift on my nightstand, gazing up at the stars on my ceiling for I don’t know how long, when I finally pulled myself away to go shower. I was more confused now by his unexpected visit than I was before he even showed up on my doorstep. His sudden presence opened up old wounds, and I felt like I was breaking all over again. I had come to accept what had happened between us, but I had never forgotten. I was healing until he showed up, painfully ripping the Band-Aid from my already sensitive skin. Taking any progress I had made, away. That was the thing about Damien, he was a paradox of contradictions. His words always spoke one thing, but his actions always proved another.
I stayed under the warm running water, reflecting on everything from the night, until the spray turned cold. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it around my wet body and made my way back to my bedroom. Just wanting to pass the hell out and avoid any more conflicting emotions he seemed to always stir inside of me.
For the first time in years, I walked into the room we once shared with nothing but the constellations from the candle lighting up the room. Stopping just outside the door to take in the shadowy figure roaming freely.
Damien was there.
He was standing in the middle of the room, looking around the space. Observing how nothing in my room had changed, even though so much between us had.
“I couldn’t get rid of them,” I announced from the doorway behind him, watching as he took in all the gifts he’d given me throughout the years. “I tried. Several times. So many times, I’d lost count. Whenever I pulled something off one of the shelves, it just felt wrong. Like I was throwing you away, and as much as I wanted to get rid of you, Damien, I couldn’t. You see, I want to hate you. I want to hate you so fucking much, but I can’t. I can’t because I love you too fucking much. Do you have any idea how that feels? To love a man who can’t… won’t… love you back.”
He slowly turned around, knowing precisely how he’d find me.
Naked.
Wet.
In nothing but a towel.
In two strides, he closed the distance between us with so much force I slammed against the wall behind me. Hitting it with a hard thud. He instantly caged me in with his arms, making me feel his love and his hate.
Not for me.
For himself.
“What are you doing, Damien?” I breathlessly asked, licking my lips like I was preparing them for him.
“I have no fucking idea, Muñeca,” he admitted, once again leaning in close to my mouth. “I never do with you.” He softly pecked my lips, waiting for my reaction.
I moaned, giving him exactly what he wanted.
And it was all he needed to lose control.
He roughly gripped onto my waist, lifting me up for my thighs to straddle his waist. Pulling me close to his body.
His chest.
His heart.
He kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue as he carried me over to the bed. The same mattress I’d slept next to him on so many times in the past. When he’d soothe my nightmares, chasing away the monsters from my sleep as much as he did the ones when I was awake. He gently laid me down, spreading my legs to lay in between them, lowering himself onto my heated body. Cradling my face, he never once broke our kiss.
Our connection.
Our love for one another.
There was something different about him as he hovered above me in a way I’d never experienced with him before. Like he was trying to show me a side to him that he didn’t even know existed. Tenderly, he kissed me deep as his hands gently ran down my shoulders to pull the towel off my body.
“Damien,” I nervously rasped, trembling beneath him, and he was barely even touching me.
I had no idea what I was in for.
“Shhh… it’s me, Muñeca. It’s me. I’m here, shhh...” he murmured, the same words he’d always used to calm me. Except, this was for entirely different reasons.
It worked enough to ease my worry. I visibly relaxed back into the sheets as he completely removed both the towel and himself off my body. I inadvertently whimpered, not only from the loss of his touch, but also from what I knew he desperately wanted to see. I could feel his eyes looking at every last inch of my skin for the first time ever, and I couldn’t help but feeling insecure. I didn’t have Evita’s voluptuous body. I swear I sensed his stare roaming over my perky breasts, to my tan nipples, down to my narrow, slim waist. Slowly, deliberately, taking his time. My thighs clenched together when I felt his stare heading toward my most sacred area.
He lightly grabbed onto my knees, gradually spreading my legs open for him. Further and further apart. “It’s me, Muñeca. I need to see what’s always been fucking mine.”
My face turned another shade of red in both desire and embarrassment, from being spread wide open for him. I could feel my wetness pooling in between my legs from his words and touch. Fueling my need to feel him, anywhere and everywhere. He caused another whimper to escape my lips when I felt his hand slowly expose my clit.
“Amira,” he huskily groaned in a voice I’d never heard before. “Open your eyes. I need you to look at me while I’m looking at you.”
I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and locked eyes with his hooded stare.
They were foreign.
Unfamiliar.
And everything I ever wanted.
“Damien, I’m—”
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Muñeca.”
I didn’t know how far this was going to go, but I didn’t hesitate in breathing out, “Then take me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Removing his jacket, he threw it on the floor beside my towel. As he laid down on his stomach, he held onto my thighs and buried his face in between my legs.
My eyes widened. “What are you—”
“Shhh,” he hummed, sucking my clit into his mouth.
My back jolted off the bed, making him chuckle as he moved his head up and down, side-to-side, using his tongue to vibrate against my core. “Mmmm… Damien,” I purred, grabbing ahold of his hair as he continued with his oral assault. He never stopped working me over with his lips and tongue when he started to slide his finger into my soaking wet welcoming heat.
“Oh, God…” I moaned, curving my back into the mattress beneath me. Entirely coming undone from his touch.
He devoured me with his tongue and fingers, making love to me with his mouth. Sucking harder and more demanding with each passing second, to the point I thought I was going to pass the hell out. I knew he’d done this with women before, but it felt like he was experiencing the same new sensations I was. His mouth and hand were controlling my body, but my reactions were controlling his willpower to stay in control.
“Jesus… Damien… I can’t… it’s too much…”
A loud, rumbling growl escaped from deep within his chest. My words only proved all my thoughts right. He was losing control, and it was what made me completely surrender to the power he held over me.
I came.
I came so damn hard I saw stars. He didn’t let up, making me come over and over again, against his fingers and mouth. I started to convulse, my body moving on its own accord. He instantly locked his arm around my lower torso, holding me in place. My back arched off the bed, my hands white-knuckled the sheets, and my body shook with so much force that I thought I would never stop coming undone.
“Oh, god… ahhh…” I profusely panted, my body turning on me.
Orgasm after orgasm. They were coming quick and fast, one right after the other with no end in sight. At least, not while he was in between my fucking legs.
“Please… Damien… please…” I squirmed, begging him to stop, tugging hard at his hair to the point I thought I was going to rip it out.
He released my clit with an unrelenting groan, not wanting to stop, but allowing me mercy. Thrusting his tongue into my heat, licking, eating, swallowing all my juices like I was his favorite meal. He slowly sat up with a pleased and satisfied expression on his face. Grinning as he shamelessly wiped his lips and chin with the back of his arm. Showing me precisely how much I came only because of him.
“That’s all you, Muñeca. Your sweet pussy fucking squirted all over me.”
His filthy words had as much effect on my body as his touch just did. I wanted him to say more dirty things like that to me. I never wanted it to end. He tore his shirt off by pulling it up from the back and over his head, throwing it on the floor beside the rest of our stuff as he started to unbuckle his belt and jeans. “Are you sure you want to do this? Just say the word, Amira, and I will stop now. Because I can guaran-fucking-tee that once I start, I won’t be able to quit. Not with you. Not ever with fucking you.”
I didn’t falter, not for one second. “You promise?”
He smiled, sliding down his jeans, letting his hard cock jut free. My face paled, and my head jerked back against the pillow. “Damien… oh my God. You really are a monster.”
He laughed so hard, throwing his head back.
“We can’t. It won’t fit. You’ll kill me with that thing.”
He mischievously grinned, crawling his way up my body, kissing and sucking his way up to my lips.
“I’m being serious, Damien. That thing is too big. It’s too thick. I can’t—”
He kissed me hard, stifling my words. “It’s my cock, Muñeca.” He kissed along my neck, down to the cleavage of my breasts. “Not my thing. My cock,” he reaffirmed, peering up at me through the slits of his eyes. Simply stating, “Amira, you were made for me.”
I beamed, understanding exactly what he was trying to say. He made his way back up to my lips, wanting to claim them again. Grabbing the hair by the nook of my neck, he brought my lips up to meet his, pecking me at first. Teasing them with the tip of his tongue, outlining my pouty mouth. My tongue sought his out, and our kiss quickly turned passionate, moving on its own accord. Taking what the other needed and vice versa.
He kissed me with everything he could muster up. He kissed me until the earth stopped moving and time stood still. There was something agonizing about the way we were moving—it was urgent, demanding, and all-consuming. We couldn’t get enough of each other’s taste, leaving us thirsty and wanting so much more.
I wanted everything.
He caressed the side of my face, my breasts, the back of my thighs as if he didn’t know where he wanted to touch me the most.
“I love you, Muñeca,” he throatily said in between our passionate kisses.
“I love you too,” I panted, needing him to hear it as well.
He kissed me like his life depended on it. Like I was everything he ever wanted and so much more. I yearned for him to make us one person in the same way I always had before.
“Damien…” I moaned in a voice I didn’t recognize.
Our bodies moved in sync like they were made for each other, nothing could ever compare or even come close to this. I placed my hand on his rapidly beating heart that was pounding against my chest and opened my eyes, staring profusely into his.
The devotion.
The adoration.
The love…
He had for me, spilled out of his dark, dilated, intensely piercing honey eyes.
“There she is… there’s my girl,” he rasped, slowly thrusting in.
“Ahhh… Damien...”
“Shhh… Muñeca, I got you.”
I swear I felt every last inch of him as he tore his way through my virginity. My teeth bit into my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. I probably should’ve told him I was still a virgin, though I was scared he would stop.
Or worse, he wouldn’t do it all.
He slowly, tenderly thrust in and out of me, trying to steady his breathing, while I tried hard not to jerk away from him. I waited for the initial pain to subside, hoping like hell it didn’t burn like this the entire time. My moans and whimpers weren’t from pleasure, and it was then he knew.
He stopped, staring lovingly into my eyes. Contemplating what to say before he just whispered, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Muñeca...”
Emotions I’d never felt before flowed through my entire body while throbbing sensations took over the ache, relaxing my body a little more. Not only did Damien make slow, passionate love to me, he claimed me without words. His hips thrust harder and deeper into me with a compassionate, deliberate motion. I couldn’t do anything but surrender to him. Submit to the only man I ever loved with my heart, body, and soul.
With every kiss, every touch, every thrust, and every single I love you, he made unspoken promises to me. He adoringly kissed all over my face, along my jawline, my forehead, and on the tip of my nose. The room started spinning like it did when his face was in between my legs. My head fell back, and my breathing became heady, urgent, and so good…
He immediately lapped at my neck and breasts, leaving tiny marks all over. I didn’t want to move, I wanted to enjoy the sensation of him being on top of me.
“That feel good, baby?” he groaned, making his way back up to my mouth.
I nodded, unable to form words. My arms reached around him, hugging him closer against my body, wanting to feel his entire weight on me. He leaned his forehead on mine. Breathing out, “Open your eyes. Let me see those brown eyes, Muñeca.”
I did, taking in how lively, thriving, and full of love his stare reflected back into mine. Our mouths were parted, still touching and panting profusely, trying to feel each and every sensation of our skin-on-skin contact. I swear the pounding of our hearts echoed off the walls.
“Fuck, baby… Come… come on my cock… just like that…”
Still no words.
I was coming. I was coming from my head to my toes, and all he needed was to keep doing whatever he was doing. A faint whimper turned into a moan when he angled my leg up higher, hitting that spot that his fingers did before. Like he could feel my silent pleas, he gave my throbbing nub some much-needed attention.
“You like that, Muñeca?” he questioned with warm words and passionate kisses to my lips.
“Damien…” I panted.
“Fuck, Amira… Fuck… you feel so good… so fucking tight… so fucking mine…” he growled, somewhere in between pleasure and pain.
I fell.
He fell.
We met somewhere in the middle. My entire world spun out of control, and so did his as I shuddered beneath him, and his body tensed above mine.
He was the beginning to my end or maybe it was the end to my beginning.
It didn’t matter because he was my home too.
He would always be home to me.
“I love you, Damien.”
Lifting his head, he kissed me. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. You know that, right?”
“Yes…” I smiled, returning his love. Nothing existed in that moment but him and me. No one else mattered, and my whole world was right here.
Right in this room.
I loved him.
I’d always loved him. And there was no doubt in my mind that Damien felt the same way.
This was the beginning.
Our beginning, and nothing or nobody could ever take it away. Not after tonight. He made love to me countless times, unable to satiate himself with my body. Until he let me fall asleep in his arms, in his world. As if I was his whole life, too. He held me so tight like he never wanted to let me go. At some point in the darkness, I felt him thrust back inside me. I was exhausted and sore, but it still felt so right. It almost felt like I was in and out of a dream. Except this time his love making felt different.
More vulnerable.
More powerless.
More urgent and frantic.
“Damien,” I murmured, trying to open my eyes.
“Shhh… Muñeca… I’m here… Shhh… I’m here…”
Those words always soothed me, no matter if I was awake or asleep.
“I love you… I fucking love you…” he added in a desperate, desolate plea that I would remember for the rest of my life.
The next thing I knew I startled awake the following morning. Something woke me from a dead sleep. The front door maybe. I rolled over, letting it all sink in.
As soon as I saw her, I knew.
To the depths of my soul, I knew.
Yuly.
With a card that read, “Happy Birthday, Muñeca. I’ve never been your hero, but you have always been mine.”
My heart exploded.
I died right then and there.
He wasn’t trying to start a future with me. What I thought was our beginning was actually our end.
Our night.
The night, he spent hours worshipping me was his way of saying…
Goodbye.
Forever.
I’ve told you from the beginning of my story that I was nothing but a fucking monster.
At least now, you can’t call me a liar…