Because it has to.
After freeing my wrists, he props himself up on his elbows, hovering above me.
I exhale and he inhales as he slips inside me inch by painstaking inch.
Our gazes lock as he fills me to the hilt. My chest contracts because I know nothing will ever feel as good as when he’s inside me.
Our bodies fit perfectly, like we were made for each other…which only makes this even more tragic.
On a strangled groan, he withdraws ever so slowly before pushing back in. My fingers skim his back, and he buries his face against my throat, his thrusts a gentle rhythm…like he’s trying to make time stand still.
That makes two of us.
Every time he pushes inside me, I clench around him…my body unwilling to let him go despite my mind knowing it’s the right thing to do.
His mouth claims mine again and I kiss him back with every single ounce of hate and love I’ve ever felt for him.
Our kiss turns messy and sloppy and he laces our fingers, picking up the pace. My hips snap against his, meeting him thrust for thrust as we consume each other.
Our breathing accelerates, and he breaks the kiss. Anguish slashes his face as he stares down at me and I cling to him with everything I’ve got because neither of us is ready for this to end…even though it has to.
His tongue dips inside my mouth one last time before he ruts against me. My core tightens as he drives inside me again and again, my muscles tensing and my body begging for release.
Sweat slicks our skin and our fastened fingers constrict, desperately trying to hold on…even though we can’t.
Pleasure builds inside me as we move as one—our cadence in perfect harmony, like a flawless song—until it becomes too overwhelming and I have no choice but to let go.
A range of emotions fill my chest—each one penetrating me with the force of a bullet—as my inner walls squeeze him and I whisper his name for the very last time.
His lips part and his brows draw together as pleasure washes over his face. His intense gaze never strays from mine as hot liquid fills me.
We stare at one another for what feels like an eternity and I feel my heart shatter into a thousand tiny pieces…just like it did that night at Voodoo.
The reminder has me setting my armor in place again, though it feels substantially weaker now…like papier-maché.
“I need to get some sleep.”
My tone is intentionally cold and distant, and I can’t bring myself to look at him.
His lips gently brush my forehead and he lingers for a moment…silently telling me goodbye.
I squeeze my eyes shut and the void I feel as he slips out of me is pure agony.
The mattress dips and I hear his footsteps pad toward the door.
I curl into a ball once I’m sure he’s gone, unable to stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks and soaking his pillow. Only this time, my pain isn’t because of what he did.
It’s for what we could have been.
CHAPTER 70
PHOENIX
Lennon’s been asleep for the last three hours…and I’ve been watching her for the last two.
The wet spot she left on my pillow is dry now and I can’t decide if knowing she was in here crying while I was trying not to destroy everything in my fucking house makes me feel better or worse.
I glance at the clock on my nightstand. The sun will be up soon…and shortly after that, she’ll be gone for good.
Which means I better do this now.
She doesn’t stir as I peel the sheets back, and I have to remind my dick not to react as I rake my gaze over her naked body.
Letting me see all of her tonight was a consolation prize, but one I appreciate.
That suffocating feeling rears its ugly head again—tightening like a noose around my neck.
She’s leaving me. And there’s not a fucking thing I can do to stop it.
The muscles in my chest draw tight as I take the cap off the black Sharpie.
Given my flight leaves two hours before Lennon’s, I won’t have a chance to say any last words to her.
I’ll have to write them instead.
Thinking about all the times she marred her perfect body—branding herself—with the cruel words of others fucking kills me.
I take my time dragging the marker across her stomach, hoping I don’t fuck this up because it’s too important and I only have one shot to get it right.
Five minutes later, the word beautiful is etched on her skin…right where it belongs.
Drawing in a deep breath, I press the marker to her sternum.
The next words are a lot harder to write. Not because I don’t mean them, but because it will never undo what I did to her.