Kiss me,” I breathe out against his lips. His mouth moves over mine. His kiss is soft, gentle, and exquisitely slow. Our breaths mingle as we take our time exploring forgotten territory. Last night, at the bar, this man’s tongue may have fucked my mouth. But this...this kiss is filled with heart and soul...and so much longing.

Taking her tiny hand into both of mine, I lift it to my chest, placing it right over my racing heart. “You feel that?” I rasp, swallowing hard. Her head bobs. “That’s yours. It’s always been. So, the next time you try to convince yourself that you know what’s best for me, I want you to remember what you feel when we’re together.” I touch the pads of my first two fingers to her neck, feeling her pulse flutter against my skin. “I feel it, too.

I’ll take stolen kisses and trysts in the cane fields for as long as I live over a life without you in it.

He’s so fucking unconventionally perfect. I don’t know whether I want to kick him in the balls or lick his face.

My breath catches in my throat as a chill makes me shiver, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. My eyes latch on to his, pleading with him to kiss me.

for a moment, I stand in the doorway, watching the steady rise and fall of their chests. I listen to the gentle hum of their breaths and I wonder when my little babies started to turn into men. And I pray. I pray that my boys will be good men. That they will know how to treat the women in their lives, and more than anything, I pray to God that they will be good fathers, despite the fact that they’ve had no one to show them how.

Soft touches turn frantic. Gentle kisses become bruising. Rapid breaths progress to sensual moans. I allow the moment to completely take me; getting lost in the way her body responds to mine.