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I wipe my hands quickly on my pants and capture her lips and finally kiss her properly.

Fin-fucking-ally.

It’s like a first intake of air after being submerged under water.

She moans into my lips and starts tugging at her dress, desperate now. I grip the hem and have her out of it in no time.

Discovering she is naked under it, I groan, my cock immediately ready to go. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” I kiss her again, grazing my teeth around her jaw, down her clavicle.

“Fuck me, Corm.” She pulls me to her, lowering us both on the sofa and wrapping her legs around my waist.

I’m kissing her and touching her, and wondering if I can ever get enough. But then something makes me pause. Will sex confuse her more?

She groans, exasperated.

“Are you sure about this?” I’m not even sure why I’m asking, because if she hesitates, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.

She tugs me to her. “Yes, yes, fuck me.” And then she pauses. “But it means nothing.”

It feels like an afterthought, a last sane thought to protect herself. And I wholeheartedly disagree, but I can’t have her recoil.

“That’s what you said the first time we had sex.” I find her nipple with my lips, and she arches her back.

“Hm, I guess history repeats itself.”

“Fuck, I hope you’re right.”

I thrust, her pussy stretching around me, and fuck if it doesn’t feel like home. “You take me so well, Saar. Fuck, I need to fill all your holes. I missed you so much.”

She bucks her hips, seeking friction.

“God, I love this greedy cunt of yours.” I start moving. I’ve just come, but I feel like I’m going to blow again.

But she tenses, and I stop. “What’s wrong?”

“Have we done this without condoms?” Her deep line splits her forehead.

I sigh, hoping this déjà vu will morph into a new memory quickly. “Yes, but I can get one,” I offer, even though I would love nothing more than planting my baby in her womb.

She smiles. “No, it’s okay. I want to feel you.”

Perhaps there are memories we can overwrite.

Chapter 31

Saar

Corm roars and collapses beside me in his bed. We enjoyed several surfaces in his house, and I’m blissed out of my mind.

If I thought multiple orgasms would trigger my memory, I was wrong. What they triggered is much more tangible, though.

Connection.

Intimacy.

Tentative trust.

We revisited most of the places in the house. Well, Corm revisited, and I experienced anew. I learned my husband is dominant in the bedroom. Not shocking, knowing him.