He groans heavily, then closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting it fall against the mattress behind him.
“Open your eyes,” I whisper. “I want you to watch me.”
He raises his head, looking at me through hooded eyes. I continue to slowly take control, wanting nothing more than for him to hear and feel and see just how much he means to me. Being in control is a completely different sensation, but it’s a good one. The way he’s watching me makes me feel needed like no one’s ever been able to make me feel. In a way, he makes me feel necessary. Like my existence alone is necessary for his survival.
“Don’t look away again,” I say, easing myself up. When I lower myself back onto him, his head sways slightly from the intensity of the sensation and a moan escapes my throat, but he keeps his tortured eyes locked firmly on mine. I’m no longer in need of his guidance, and my body becomes a rhythmic reflection of his.
“The first time you kissed me?” I say. “That moment when your lips touched mine? You stole a piece of my heart that night.” I continue my rhythm as he watches me fervently. “The first time you told me you lived me because you weren’t ready to tell me you loved me yet?” I press my hand harder against his chest and move myself in closer to him, wanting him to feel every part of me. “Those words stole another piece of my heart.”
He opens his hand that I have pressed over my heart until his palm is flat against my skin. I do the same to him. “The night I found out I was Hope? I told you I wanted to be alone in my room. When I woke up and saw you in my bed I wanted to cry, Holder. I wanted to cry because I needed you there with me so bad. I knew in that moment that I was in love with you. I was in love with the way you loved me. When you wrapped your arms around me and held me, I knew that no matter what happened with my life, you were my home. You stole the biggest piece of my heart that night.”
I lower my mouth to his and kiss him softly. He closes his eyes and begins to ease his head against the bed again. “Keep them open,” I whisper, pulling away from his lips. He opens them, regarding me with an intensity that penetrates straight to my core. “I want you to keep them open…because I need you to watch me give you the very last piece of my heart.”
He releases a vast breath and it’s almost as if I can see the pain literally escaping him. His hands tighten around mine as the look in his eyes instantly changes from an intense hopelessness to a fiery need. He begins moving with me as we hold each other’s gaze. The two of us gradually become one as we silently express with our bodies and our hands and our eyes what our words are unable to convey.
We remain in a connected cadence until the very last moment when his eyes grow heavy. He drops his head back, consumed by the shudders that are taking over his release. When his heart rate begins to calm against my palm and he’s able to connect with my eyes again, he pulls his hands from mine and grips the back of my head, kissing me with an unforgiving passion. He leans forward as he lowers my back to the floor, trading dominance with me, kissing me with abandon.
We spend the rest of the night taking turns expressing how we feel without uttering a single word. By the time we finally reach the point of exhaustion, wrapped up in each other’s arms, I begin to fall asleep in a wave of disbelief. We have just wholly fallen into each other, heart and soul. I never thought I would ever be able to trust a man enough to share my heart, much less hand it over completely.
Holder isn’t next to me when I roll over and feel for him. I sit up on the bed and it’s dark outside, so I reach over and turn on the lamp. His shoes aren’t where they were when he took them off, so I pull on my clothes and make my way outside to find him.
I walk past the courtyard, not spotting him sitting in any of the cabanas. Just as I’m about to turn around and head back, I see him lying on the concrete next to the pool with his hands locked behind his head, looking up at the stars. He looks so incredibly peaceful right now, so I choose to walk back to one of the cabanas and leave him undisturbed.
I curl up into the seat and pull my arms into my sweater, leaning my head back as I watch him. There’s a full moon out, so everything about him is illuminated in a soft bask of light, making him appear almost angelic. He’s lost in the sky with a look of serenity across his face, making me grateful that he’s able to find enough peace within himself to get through today. I know how much Lesslie meant to him and I know what his heart is going through today. I know exactly what he’s feeling, because our pain is shared now. Whatever he goes through, I feel. Whatever I go through, he feels. It’s what happens when two people become one: they no longer only share love. They also share all of the pain, heartache, sorrow, and grief.