Authors: Kahlen Aymes
Tags: #romance, #love, #sexy, #erotic romance, #oliviamk1218, #kahlen aymes, #dont forget to remember me, #a love like this, #the future of our past, #the remembrace trilogy
I turned, like a cornered rabbit, waiting to
be eaten by my predator. My eyes widened and I stared at my
husband. I was still shaking and my throat ached. Everything
hurt.
When I didn’t answer, he took a step toward
me. I couldn’t help flinching away, which only pissed him off
more.
“Julia, answer me!” he yelled, the outburst
making me flinch again. “Jesus Christ!” he muttered. “You’re acting
like I’m going to hurt you.”
“You have hurt me! So much, I can’t see
straight! I can’t breathe! I saw you with Jane, and you’re accusing
me of shit with Mike?”
His handsome face flashed recognition and
then quickly hardened again. “You saw me comforting a friend!
Andrea told me you left with Turner.” The volume of his voice was
lower now, but the tone still hard. “I’m so Goddamn sick of you not
trusting me!”
“Well, I’m sick of you choosing that bitch
over me! I never see you! You spend all of your time with that
woman!”
Ryan ran a hand through his wet hair with a
huff; I wasn’t sure if it was disbelief or disgust. “It’s fucking
New Year’s Eve, Julia! I had something special planned for us, and
now it’s completely fucked! Why didn’t you talk to me about what
you saw? Instead, you run to Andrea and ask her to give me the
bracelet? To give to Jane?” he railed. “Is that what you’re
implying? And, then you run out into a storm like a child? You’re
acting insane!” His expression was incredulous, but surely he knew
what Jane was up to.
My face crumpled again as tears continued to
flood my eyes, and I began to cry in earnest. “You don’t know her
like you think! She’s nuh… not all unicorns and ruh… rainbows. I
won’t let you tuh… turn me into the bad guy on this, Ryan! She’s
truh… trying to break us up!”
“No, she isn’t!” he said in disgust. “She
felt bad tonight. She’s alone. She knows I’m committed to you!”
“Then she’s one up on me!” I put both hands
over my face and fell against the wall with a painful bang, my
shoulders shaking with the effort of my sobs. I wanted to tell him
about the conversation in the bathroom, but I was so angry that
doing so was even necessary; the words couldn’t get past the ache.
“Talk about not trusting someone! A year ago,” I cried, defeated,
“you would have believed me.”
“Oh, fuck this!” Ryan rushed toward me and
grabbed both of my wrists, prying my hands away from my face, his
fingers pressing hard into my flesh as he yanked me toward him
roughly. “What do I have to do? This is bullshit!” I struggled
against him as he pushed me to the wall with his body, struggling
to force the bracelet back on my left wrist. “This is
us
!
Not me and Jane!
Us,
Julia! It makes me fucking sick that
you could think I’d take it from your wrist and put it on hers! Or
anyone else’s!” He shouted in my face, his chest heaved against
mine.
When Ryan had the bracelet once again
ensconced on my wrist, he angrily shoved a knee between my legs and
lifted me off the floor with it, both hands now pinning my arms to
the wall over my head. My feet were left dangling off of the floor
and one of the high-heeled pumps dropped off and smacked against
the wall before landing with a soft thud on the carpet.
“This is madness!”
We were both furious, and the heat between
our bodies began to seep steamily through our wet clothes. The
smooth wool crepe covering Ryan’s hips brushed the of inside my
thighs. I began to struggle and pushed against his hands with all
my might, but he held me still as if I lay docile in his arms.
Frustration welled up in my chest. I was conflicted; part of me
didn’t want Ryan touching me when he’d just touched her and part of
me needed the affirmation that he was still mine. He smelled like
cologne and the gel he used on his hair. I fought inhaling deeper,
silently praying not to find any traces of Jane’s perfume
lingering.
Despite my tears, my jaw jutted out in
defiance, and my eyes flashed angrily at my husband. I was helpless
physically, but I wouldn’t let him break me.
“I didn’t get a New Year’s kiss from my
wife.” Ryan’s voice had dropped to the low, sexy tones he used when
he made love to me, but somehow it hurt this time. How could he act
like touching me would make the last two hours disappear?
“No… no, noooo!” My struggle renewed as I
frantically turned my face away; the vision of the kiss he’d given
Jane reappeared in my mind, kissing Ryan. Kissing my husband, on
this, the first New Year’s Eve of our married life. He rested his
forehead on the side of my face, and I could feel the warmth of
breath rush over me, the scent of expensive scotch wafting into my
nostrils.
“I don’t want to kiss you. I don’t want you
to touch me right now.” The words weren’t true, but my pride
insisted I say them. I tried to hide the pain in my eyes, but knew
I wouldn’t succeed because my brow was rumpled and my chin
trembled. I’d never been able to hide anything from the man who
knew me better than I knew myself.
His anger was tangible, his breathing heavy,
his expression enraged. I could feel it, but his lips were gentle
as they moved across my check toward my mouth, leaving a trail of
fire that weakened my resolve. “Liar,” he almost whispered.
When he felt the fight drain out of me, his
hands released my wrists and strong fingers circled around my
thighs, pulling my sex flush with his throbbing erection. Ryan
groaned against the curve of my shoulder as my hands wound in his
hair, and I wondered if he tasted the salt from my tears on his
tongue. My heart was broken, and still, I couldn’t deny him.
“I know you love me, so stop this,” he
demanded. I started to sob, hating my weakness; hating that he was
right. “Do you feel how I want you? How hot I am for you? Julia,”
he groaned. “Tonight was going to be glorious.”
I closed my eyes again, the pain still so
fresh. I tried to deny the desire Ryan stirred within me. “All I
can see is you kissing her."
He pulled back, and his frenzied blue eyes
locked with mine and hardened. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,”
he spat out. “Happy
fucking
New Year! She kissed me! Barely!
If you’d bothered to wait ten seconds…” Ryan paused and huffed.
“Fuck this! Actions speak louder than words.”
Exactly
, my mind cried.
Strong fingers closed around my chin and
forced my face to his, his tongue parting my lips and plundering my
mouth in a thunderous kiss as he ground his pelvis into mine in a
series of thrusts to show me his arousal. I hated my weakness, but
my mouth finally responded to the fiery kiss, my hands tugging at
his hair to bring his tongue in even deeper. When Ryan groaned into
my mouth, the air left my lungs and I gasped for breath. His lips
ripped from mine to let me breathe, his hands frantically ripping
at my already ruined dress, his hands greedily seeking my
breasts.
“
That
was a kiss,” he said as his
lips dragged across my cheek and to my temple, one hand moving
between us to open his pants and push down his boxer briefs to
expose himself. “What you saw meant nothing.
This
,” he
pushed his engorged cock against me again, the thick shaft pressing
against my damp flesh through the silk panties, and rubbing in a
slow, methodical rhythm, “belongs to you.” Ryan’s fingers kneaded
and rolled my left nipple painfully. Still, it puckered and grew in
his hand. His hips held me up as he reached down and roughly ripped
the crotch of my panties away. I gasped in surprise when his
fingers parted me, feeling the dampness of my desire. He sighed
heavily, closing his eyes. “We fucking own each other, and you know
it. Nothing or no one can
ever
change it.” Two fingers sank
inside me and I instinctively arched into them. “I know you know
it, baby, so stop this.”
“Ryan…” I whispered achingly. My heart still
hurt, but I needed him desperately. His body, his mouth, his love…
would take away all of the aches he created in me if I let it
happen. I didn’t want to think about tomorrow or if Jane would
still be between us, I just wanted to drown in his love and his
words and never let go. I wanted to let him mend the break in my
heart and fill me with his body and his love.
“Say it!” Ryan commanded. My eyes snapped to
his. “Tell me that you know,” he said more softly.
“I know, Ryan.” His mouth crashed into mine
once again, our tongues tangling and laving deeply with each other;
roughly, but deep and with purpose. He was showing me he loved me,
making me acknowledge it. My heart swelled with love. He groaned
when the thick head of his cock probed my entrance and he started
to enter, stretching me wide as he pushed in deep. I arched, aching
to take his thick length inside me inch by glorious inch.
“Uhhhh,” I sighed in pleasure and squeezed
around him when he was fully inside. Ryan stiffened against me,
feeling my muscles milk at him. I wanted to burn my presence into
his mind and onto his body; make him come harder and in ways no one
else ever could. I loved him beyond reason, and I needed him to
know no one could ever make him feel like I could.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he murmured before
his mouth took mine again. We were angry and hungry and ardent in
our passion for each other. I clung to him, ripping at his shirt,
my fingers parting the material and splaying out over his chest. He
began to thrust, long and deep, each one punctuated roughly enough
to bounce me against the wall, my breasts swelled in his hands as
he teased and tugged at the nipples then letting the fullness fill
his hand. His fingers closed around the mounds of flesh and he
began to knead gently. The kisses softened, our lips lifting and
feasting with determination as our bodies moved together. Ryan
pulled at my bottom lip and licked at my top one before his tongue
entered again. I sucked it deeper into my mouth.
My legs began to tingle as Ryan used his
leverage to find my G-spot with the head of his dick. My breath
hitched, and I squeezed around him and held it.
“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged softly
between breathless kisses. “I can feel you starting… come for me,
Julia.”
“Ryan, I want you,” I breathed. “Come with
me.” I concentrated hard, biting my lip, wanting it to last longer,
but my fragile emotions and Ryan’s urgency made it impossible.
“I love you, baby. Just let it go.” His
guttural words pushed me over the edge, and the orgasm washed over
me in delicious waves that left me jerking against him. He pulled
me off the wall, and my legs wrapped around him. Ryan held me
tightly to him as he carried me to the bed and laid me down. I knew
he hadn’t come and I didn’t want him to leave my body.
“No, Ryan.” My fingers curled into his
shoulders and the hair at the back of his head when he began to
pull out. “Don’t!”
“I’ll be back. Let’s take off these wet
clothes, sweetheart.” He kissed my mouth in gentle reassurance that
he’d come back to me. The cold air that rushed over my damp skin
caused goose bumps to pop out and made me shiver.
I watched him retreat in the dark, the white
of his shirt a shadowy image as he peeled it off and stepped out of
his pants and silk boxers before walking into the bathroom. A
sloppy splat signaled he’d deposited the articles in a heap on the
ceramic tile before returning to the bedroom completely naked, his
erection still at full attention, to begin peeling my sodden dress,
tattered panties, lace corset, and thigh high stockings from my
body.
“It’s a shame this dress is ruined. You were
stunning in it.” His voice was silken, but held a trace of
sadness.
He was so beautiful; his hair still clung
damply to his nape and forehead, and his muscles moved gracefully
beneath his smooth skin. He was a trace thinner than he was a year
ago; the lifestyle and rough hours of a medical resident clearly
taking its toll.
I lifted my hand and ran it down his arm
from his shoulder to his hand, tenderness flooded through me. I
sucked in my breath. I loved this man beyond words, and suddenly, I
regretted the loss of whatever he had planned for the remainder of
the evening.
Ryan’s deep blue eyes turned black in the
darkness but glittered as he paused and studied my body, now left
naked and vulnerable to his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair
and sighed as the remnants of my clothes were tossed into the
bathroom with his. I could sense his immense sorrow at the
emotional barrier between us. Even when we were making love and we
were locked together in our desperate closeness, there was
melancholy beneath it. Suddenly, I was overwrought with the need to
make sure he knew I loved him as much as I ever did and that I
trusted him. I could see his pain, and I hated it.
“Ryan,” I called softly.
“Mmm, huh?” he answered. He was standing at
the foot of the bed, and I raised my arms, beckoning him to me.
Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate and crawled up the bed on his hands
and knees toward me. One knee parted mine, and he settled into the
cradle of my body in one fluid motion, his hands framing my face,
thumbs tracing my temples at the same time as he came inside my
body again. My leg hitched and curled around his hips, the heel of
my foot pressed into his firm ass and my arms sliding up his
muscled back.
“God,” he groaned, his lids dropping slowly
over his eyes. He dipped his head to kiss me softly, then with
increasing ardor. Where our coupling had been hard and frenzied
minutes before, it was now unhurried with tender urgency, the point
this time to prove depth of love, not mutual ownership.
Ryan pushed into me with a steady and deep
rhythm, our mouths giving and taking, licking, hovering, and then
sucking madly on each other’s. My fingers curled into the silken
strands at the nape of his neck, and cupping his head possessively,
I pulled his mouth closer to mine.