Pulled(94)
Author: A.L. Jackson

I spoke quietly against Daniel’s chest, “He’s so beautiful.” Daniel drew me in, wrapping an arm around my waist as he nodded against my head. “Perfect.” He leaned in closer and whispered against my ear. “Just like you.” His words brought a rush of heat, and the fire ignited as his lips traveled from my ear to my mouth.

Immediately, my body reacted to his touch. Every touch, every day, always the same. The need never dimmed.

He stepped back, pulling me into the hallway and pressing me against the wall. Both of his hands held my face as he gazed down at me, his eyes filled with adoration and longing, his desire palpable in the energy traveling from his fingertips as they cupped the curve of my jaw.

His voice became rough as his need grew, grinding out a raspy, “Melanie.” He crashed his lips against mine, mouth and hands and body and soul. His kisses were hot and wet, his tongue flicking out to taste. His hands tugged and pulled at the col ar of my shirt seeking more. I hummed against his mouth as I rushed through the buttons on his shirt, just as anxious to feel him as he was to feel me.

No barriers.

He groaned, grasping my hand and dragging me across the halland to our room, quick to shut the door behind us. He rushed back to me, his kiss forceful. We shed our clothes as we danced our way across this sanctuary that was ours alone.

He wrapped me in his arms and spun us, sinking back onto the bed. His mouth fel open in silent pleasure as I lowered myself onto him. His hands gripped my hips as he looked up to me, his gaze filled with intense love that would never lessen. Our connection was not one that could be severed or used up. Our souls were one as our hands and bodies became twisted and entwined, our own existence—

a single creation.

He called through hushed breaths, “Melanie.” His rapture was so much more than physical. “My love.” And I spoke his name, “Daniel.” A statement, a definition. My life.

I watched my husband, this beautiful man, his eyes drawing me deep into the currents that flowed where our souls met, to the place where we were healed, to the place where we were free. No longer was there the pain, the loss, the suffocating hurt. Now there was life and peace and contentment, all found in this flawless love. What we’d endured had cost us so much, so much I’d never thought I’d survive.

When I look back now though, I would never change it. There had always been a reason, and I would never regret where the path had led.

Here, loved by this man, his body burning into mine, our spirits consumed by fire that could never be quelled.

Here, where our son slept peacefully in the room across the hall.

Here, where we were home.

Here, where we’d been pulled.