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Chapter Sixteen

Sarah

My heart is pounding in my ears so loudly that I can’t even hear the rain anymore. I’m dizzy. It’s something that I have only ever experienced when I was terrified before. But I’m not terrified now.

I’m kissing him.

When I made the decision to do this, about five whole seconds ago, I thought that it would be a relief to finally kiss someone.

But now that it’s happening, I realize that it isn’t about kissing someone at all.

I’m kissing Dallas. That’s what matters.

Dallas. His mouth is on me, his hands holding me steady, his body rock hard in front of me.

I put my hands on his cheeks, his skin slick as I slide my thumbs across his cheekbones, bring my hands back around behind his head, and push them through his wet hair.

I tilt my head, part my lips, and he growls, pushing his tongue into my mouth, the sweet, slick friction making me tremble.

I’m not a stranger to sexual desire, divorced from others.

I have a vibrator, and I know how to use it. I’ve done a lot of personal reclamation of my body. I spent a lot of time learning to love it, care for it, not be resentful of it, and figure out ways to make it feel good.

But it’s nothing compared to this.

He moved his hands, and I don’t know where they’re going to go next. And I’m not frightened.

I was so afraid for so long that the feeling of the unknown would remind me too much of being a confused, scared child.

But it doesn’t at all. Because it has nothing to do with this.

I knew that intellectually all this time.

I knew that abuse had nothing to do with this.

But I was still so afraid. So afraid that it would poison a beautiful moment, so afraid that it would put me back somewhere I didn’t want to be.

But now, I’m just with him. I’m being held in his strong arms, and there is nothing other than this. Nothing other than our need for one another.

It’s undeniable.

He feels it too.

His mouth is firm and sure on mine, and he guides our movements. His kisses are expert, and I know mine aren’t. I’m driven by my desire, and there’s something like a rush of satisfaction when I realize it’s not desire just for the sake of it.

I want him.

There has been a feeling inside of me that was too big to be contained from the moment that I met Dallas.

I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t know where it was supposed to go.

It made me wild. It made me feel safe, it made me feel afraid, it made me feel like I might die if I lost him, and there was never a word for it.

Never a place that I could put it neatly.

But finally, finally I feel like I have a way to express it. A way that feels big enough. Strong enough. A way that matches the intensity that has existed in my heart for him for so many years.

Of course, it could only ever be his. All his.

That thought makes me feel like I’m falling. Like I’m sailing through the abyss, because it’s a terrifying, awful, wonderful realization.

That part of me will always feel like I belong to him no matter what. No matter where I end up, no matter where he goes. No matter what happens after this kiss ends.

I will always feel like half of a person without Dallas Dodge and that is both ugly and beautiful all at the same time.

Is it love or is it trauma? It’s very hard to say.

But it’s real all the same.

I’m getting wet out in the rain, from his touch, water drops rolling from his hair, down my face, or maybe I’m crying. It’s probably both.

And it’s appropriate anyway. Because this is like having a drink of water after eternity in the desert. I’ve been lonely, isolated, separate, different, for so long. And right now I feel like I’m part of him.

I don’t want it to end.

Then, he pulls away from me, holding onto my face, looking at me, those blue eyes all I can see. “Sarah,” he rasps, his voice rough. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“But we have to,” he says.

I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to talk.

I want to feel. Dallas, for so many years I’ve been afraid of feeling.

But I’m safe with you. I know that I’m safe with you.

We can talk afterward. I don’t need it to be safe.

I don’t need any decisions to be made. I just need this.

I need you. I need you to…” I reach up, and grab hold of his wet T-shirt, holding onto him tightly.

“I need you to take me. Like you would if I were a girl you met at the rodeo. I need you to treat me like you would anyone, because I’m just so tired.

I’m tired of myself. I’m tired of feeling like there’s something different about me that I never, ever change. ”

He’s holding my face, fingers blunt against my skin, his eyes intense.

“I can’t do that. I can’t treat you like someone else.

Because you’re you, Sarah. I’m never going to treat you the way I would someone random.

You’re never going to be a stranger to me.

But I’ll make you feel good. I promise you that. ”

He picks me up, and I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder as he carries me up the front steps and into the house.

He closes the door behind us, and for the first time I’m aware that he’s clutching a sodden bunch of fabric in his hand against my body. He throws it down onto the floor with a soggy, soft sound.

I frowned in the direction of the black bundle.

“I went for a swim,” he says, setting me down, albeit much more gently than what he just threw on the floor a moment earlier. Then he reaches back behind his head and strips his T-shirt off one-handed, and my mouth goes dry.

His body is gorgeous. I’ve been entranced by it more than once since coming to live with him, but this is the first time that I really let myself openly admire him.

This is the first time that I’ve really allowed myself to admit that it’s sexual desire.

That I’m looking at him like that because I want to touch him, kiss him, lick him, even.

My desire is suddenly so intense, so completely all-consuming that I feel like I’m standing outside of my body for a moment, staring at myself.

Like I split myself off because I can’t handle the intensity of just being inside that body that has been transformed into a well of need that exists entirely for Dallas Dodge.

I’m still wearing his necklace.

Maybe that’s what changed me.

Like he put it on me and I suddenly realized that I belong to him. Really and truly.

All of a sudden, I’m right back in my body.

Needy, desperate, trembling for him. All of a sudden, there is no escape from that feeling.

I’m so aware of everything. How hard my heart is beating, the way that my breasts feel heavy, my nipples tight.

The aching throb between my legs, and how slick I am with my need for him.

He moves toward me, cups my cheek, and kisses me, this time much more gently, but no less impactful.

I want to beg him. For more, for less, for everything. I want to promise to do everything he wants. To be whatever he needs me to be. His perfect girl.

I just want this to go on forever, as much as I need it to stop.

I’m overwhelmed. And yet I also feel the best I ever have.

Every fear that I’ve ever had rises up inside of me, I fear that this won’t be able to last, that he’ll leave me.

That I’ll lose him again. I push it aside.

Because right now, we are together. Right now, I have Dallas.

And that’s more than I ever thought I would have, ever again.

I didn’t think that I would ever find him.

I didn’t think that if I did he would care about me.

I never thought that I would end up in his arms.

The feeling inside of me is so big the only thing I can compare it to his panic, except unlike a panic attack, I wanted to go on.

But my breathing is shallow, my heartbeat erratic, my body trembling.

“Sarah,” he whispers against my neck. “Can I touch you?”

He looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine.

I nod, wordless.

“No, baby,” he says. “That’s not good enough. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” I whisper, the word coming out strangled.

He makes a sound like relief, and moves his hand to cup my breast, his thumb skimming over my tightened nipple before pinching it.

The answering pulse between my legs nearly makes my knees buckle.

He continues to touch me. Working magic on my skin like a sorcerer in possession of wicked spells. Like a sensual wizard.

There is no sex in Tolkien. I think that’s partly why it’s the kind of fantasy that I’ve always enjoyed.

Right now, I’m enjoying it.

Right now, I feel like I am on a whole new kind of adventure.

Maybe by the end, I’ll be able to cast the ring into the fire.

Or maybe I’m being overly optimistic. Maybe I just need to stop thinking altogether.

And just feel. Because I trust Dallas. One thing has always, always been true. He’s going to keep me safe.

He’s going to make it okay. He’s going to give me what I need. He’s always known what that was, even when I didn’t .

That’s been part of our dynamic forever.

It was always going to be him. Part of me wants to say that.

But I’m the one who said I didn’t want to talk.

So it’s best if I stick to that. If I can’t follow my own rules, then I won’t be allowed to make them.

I’m okay with that right now. Honestly, I would prefer to live under Dallas’s rules.

I would prefer for his hands to be my whole world.

Honestly, this is the safest I’ve ever felt.

Even as I tremble in his arms. Then, he slides his hands down my waist, my hips.

And pushes the hem of my dress up my thighs.

And then it just isn’t my breasts that he’s touching.

His hands find where I’m wet and slick for him. And he’s touching me there. Making me feel glorious, wonderful things that just don’t hurt at all.