I twist the knob and back her into our room.
Our lips are joined.
Her fingers work my buttons.
We're feverish.
Panting.
Licking.
Swirling.
My belt is next.
Slacks hit the floor.
I groan when she steps back.
Reaching.
But she holds up her palm before tugging her dress off her shoulders. I'm mesmerized, eyes scorching every new inch of skin as it's revealed. The scar on her upper thigh is angry, so I drop to my knees, lips skimming the raised flesh.
My heart aches.
For the suffering she endured.
Alone and confused.
Never again.
I'll always be here.
