Blame it on the shame Part 3

This cloud of euphoria around us is so dense, so viscous that I will gladly stay drunk on him, his body, and his love for the rest of my life.

“Need you inside me,” I pant out as my orgasm rips through me. “Don't tease me anymore tonight and don't make me beg again. I can't handle it, I need it too much.”

He kisses me deeply and I mewl when I feel him start to enter me, inch by gratifying inch.

I savor the long, slow thrusts he gives me at first, prepping me for the more extreme ones that I know he's holding back from me.

His eyes lock with mine and he cradles my face in his hands and stares at me. He looks at me like I'm the most precious thing he's ever seen, like he's trying to memorize every feature on my face because he's scared he'll either forget or he'll never see me again.

“I love you,” he whispers and the organ in my chest springs back to life.

It's such a simple statement, many people say the same exact thing to one another every day.

But when Ricardo says it...he doesn't just say it. He means it...he means it with every single part of him. When he says it, I feel it in my soul.

I interlock my fingers with his and I don't know why but I can't help but start to tear up. There are so many emotions between us it's impossible not to feel all of them whenever I look at him. “I love you, too,” I choke out and he wipes my tears away. “I missed you,” I tell him again, because I need him to know how much it hurt me to be away.

“I know, baby.” He kisses my forehead and studies my face again. “I missed you every second of every day while you were gone.”

“I know you took your place because of me,” I blurt. “I was so mad at you for letting me go, but I think...I think I understand now.”

His eyes turn soft. “I'd do anything for you, Lou-Lou.”

I open my mouth to tell him I know, but he thrusts and a sigh leaves my lips instead.

“I need you to know that I'd do anything to keep you safe,” he continues. “I'd do anything to make sure you have the life you deserve. I'm an asshole, a horrible human being...but I'd burn the world to the fucking ground and take everyone out of it before I'd ever let anyone hurt you again. Tell me you know that.”

“I do.” He picks up his pace and I scratch my nails down his back. “I know you would, Ricardo and I'd do the same for you.”

I grab his face and force him to look at me. “I'm not going anywhere, ever again. Even when we fight...I'll find my way back to you. I won't give up on us. I want this, Ricardo. I want us. I don't want to be free from you, I want you to keep me forever.”

His face contorts into an expression I don't understand before he buries his face in my neck and thrusts into me so hard my eyes roll in the back of my head.

He lifts my leg and angles himself so he's deeper inside me, so deep I feel him everywhere.

And then he fucks me. Just like I begged him to. He fucks me like I know he's always wanted to but was too scared to.

He fucks me like he can fuck the demons out of us both.

I curl up beside him and his stubble grazes my shoulder as he pulls me close and wraps his arms around me.

I lean into his embrace and feel myself drift off, my body yearning for the kind of sleep that being next to him can only provide.

“I love you,” he murmurs again and I tilt my head and look at him.

Before I can say it to him, he rolls me on my back and props himself on his elbows so he's hovering right above me.

“Another round?” I tease, but he shakes his head.

“No.”

He gently nudges my thighs open for him and slips inside me.

I'm thoroughly confused until he whispers. “I need—” He pauses, unable to finish his sentence, looking more vulnerable than I've ever seen him before.

But he doesn't need to, because I need him just as much. I pull him close and trace gentle circles up and down his spine as I feel his body relax into me.

Moments later we both fall into a peaceful slumber, just like we used to.

I dream of dandelions again and this time I smile.

Sometimes wishes do come true. Sometimes two broken people do find each other and become whole again.

Or sometimes, you forget the things that broke you apart in the first place...because you're so tied up in the magic of the moment and nothing else matters.

You forget about the monsters in the dark that never go away.

You forget why the devil was an angel first.

You forget that there are just some things you can never forgive.

I arch against his warm body and breathe him in. I fight the urge to pinch myself, because he's here in my arms and last night wasn't a dream after all.

I lift my hand and rub his sexy stubble that I love so much before I trace the beautiful lines of his striking face.

His lips curve into a slow grin that wake up the butterflies and he lowers himself until his head is resting on my chest, his muscular arms caging me in. “Don't stop touching me,” his sleepy voice rasps, nestling against me. “Don't ever stop touching me.”

My heart feels like it could burst because I'm all too aware of how important that statement is. The list of people who are allowed to touch him is practically non-existent.

I take full advantage, ru

His breathing turns heavy and he snuggles against my chest as he slips into another peaceful slumber, his entire body at peace in my embrace.

I take the opportunity to gently run my fingers over his left bicep, remembering the demonic devil that's situated there. I suppress a shudder because it's still just as disturbing and frightening as ever, despite the immaculate artistry of it.

The irony of him having both a devil and an angel on each arm isn't lost on me now.

I kiss the top of his head and switch my focus to his other arm. The delicate tips of the angel's wings are so pretty and soft. I peer down, trying to get a better look at the magnificent angel and...

My. Heart. Stops.

I close my eyes, convinced my mind is playing tricks on me.

That can't be there...why would he have that there?

When I open my eyes again, they're burning and hazy with tears.

I grip his arm and my eyes focus like lasers on the scripture again.

I shake my head, praying one more time, hoping it's not true.

But there it is.

Right there, in gorgeous script that reaches the angel's wings—my baby's name is scrawled in black ink—held safely in the angel's hands.

Thumper.

My Baby.

My baby that I'll never get to hold in my arms like that sweet angel does.

Because my baby is dead...because I chose him.

It's a reminder that simmers just under the surface and never goes away.

Ricardo doesn't get to wear my baby's name on his arm like a badge of honor, though. Because he's the reason my baby isn't here in the first place.

I squeeze his arm then scratch my nails into his tattoo, desperately trying to dig my baby out of his skin because it doesn't belong there.

Ricardo wakes with a jolt and the sound of my hand smacking him across the cheek echos in the air around us. “How dare you.”