Thanks to my team, and you, for sticking with me on this journey!
For a moment, I think briefly about my drive here. I see myself alone in my big, red truck, with tears pouring down my face, wondering if this was something I could do.
I had never lived alone, and I had never driven alone across state lines, let alone clear across the country. I had never spent the night in a motel by myself and never even thought of living in an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere.
I had no idea how I would support myself out here, let alone survive. I had no idea if I would fall into a rhythm of errands and be content with it. What if I drove myself to delirium out of boredom and loneliness?
It never occurred to me I would have a man in my bed.
It's still a thought that seems unreal to me — but then I'm brought back to the present when I feel just how real the man beneath me is.
I never knew it was supposed to be like this. Never knew it could be like this.
We tumble and tangle, and I'm breathless as he presses me into my sheets, all words I know slipping from my mind with every touch of his lips. His fingertips slide against my skin like a delicate fire; they're gentle but leave me burning for more.
For him.
When we're lying on our sides, our legs are entwined as our hands explore one another, the light from outside just bright enough to give us the light we need to take each other in.
And God is there a lot my eyes are gifted today.
My eyes open, glancing at the way the outside light catches his bare shoulder, his shirt long discarded in our haste. My fingers dance down a hard stomach, flit over the soft trail of hair leading beneath the boxer briefs that do nothing to hide how much he wants this.
I feel him come to life beneath my hands, the groan he lets out when his teeth let go of the skin on my neck as he feels my feather-like touch exactly where he needs it.
Our mouths meet again, his tongue circling mine in the same rhythm as his fingers between my legs. I whimper at the feeling, clutching onto his shoulders in a desperate attempt to hold on to something to keep me grounded.
…Because there's a good chance I may not survive this night with Edward.
"Yes," I whisper, my eyes flying open at the sound of my voice. It sounds foreign, something unfamiliar enough for me to freeze, and Edward senses it right away.
"What is it?" He asks, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress. His lips are swollen, his hair is a bronze disaster, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
But it's not distress that makes me stop.
It's the opposite.
When I heard myself a moment ago, my voice breathless and full of need, I realized why I had never heard a sound like that come from my mouth before now.
Sex with my husband was not for me. It was for him, and I was merely a player in a game I didn't want to play.
But now, as Edward traces his fingers up my body in slow appreciation, I know I'll be finding out exactly what I've been missing, exactly how it's supposed to be, for more than just tonight.
And I need it now.
"Come here," I whisper, moving us to sit on our knees in the middle of my bed.
And just like always, he follows without question.
See you tomorrow!