Chapter 24

As our lipsmove in sync, I can feel the depth of my emotions swirling within me. I part my lips, deepening the kiss, allowing him to taste the sweetness of my soul. I run my fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands against my skin. His hands wander down my back, tracing the curve of my spine before settling on my hips.

Gabe pulls back slightly, his breath warm against my lips. "Ameline," he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. I can see the desire in his eyes, the need to be closer to me.

He takes my hand, leading me toward his room. The anticipation builds with each step we take, the air around us charged with electricity. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, my breath hitching in my throat as we cross the threshold.

The room is dimly lit. Gabe turns to face me, his eyes filled with a fierce intensity that takes my breath away. He begins to undress me, his fingers tracing a path down my spine. I shiver, goose bumps prickling my skin. He slides my shirt over my head, his eyes darkening with desire. I help him, slipping out of my jeans and underwear.

I step back, my heart pounding in my chest as Gabe's intense eyes bore into mine. The air between us is electric, charged with an intensity that threatens to consume us both. His lips curve into a slow, sexy smile, and my breath hitches in anticipation. I throw my head back, unable to contain the emotions building inside me. His fingers trail softly down my cheek, and I close my eyes, savoring the moment.

The heat of his body presses against me, and I can feel the hard planes of his chest beneath my fingertips. His muscles tense beneath my touch, and he groans softly, a deep rumble that sends shivers down my spine. He pushes my body against the wall, his hips grinding against mine. I gasp as I feel his rigid cock push against my stomach, and I moan longingly. Gabe's lips find mine once more, and we kiss, our tongues tangling in a sensual dance.

His lips move down my jawline, leaving a trail of kisses that make my knees weak. He nips gently at my neck, and I arch into him, pushing my body against his. His hands roam over my curves, and I feel my nipples harden beneath his touch.

As he skillfully unclasps my bra, a sharp intake of breath escapes me. His hands cradle my breasts, his thumbs teasing over my now sensitive peaks. Gabe's lips find their way to one of my nipples, and he sucks gently, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

The soft, rhythmic sound of his breath against my ear, each exhale sending shivers down my spine. His fingers, calloused and sure, trace patterns along my skin, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume me. I moan loudly, my fingers tangling in his hair. I can feel my core begin to heat up, and I whimper softly.

"Gabe . . ." I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. He hums in response, his lips curling into a smirk against my skin. He knows exactly what he's doing to me, and he's enjoying every moment of it.

His hand moves down my stomach, tracing the curve of my hip to my core. I gasp as he feels my wetness, his fingers sliding easily along my folds. He groans softly, the sound reverberating through me.

"You're so fucking wet for me, Ameline," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. I throw my head back, unable to contain the intense pleasure flowing through me. He slowly fingers me, his thumb rubbing circles around my swollen clit. I gasp, my breath hitching in my throat as he hits just the right spot.

"Oh, God . . ." I mutter, my nails digging into his shoulders. He chuckles, the sound deep and satisfied. He knows he has me right where he wants me.

"Not God, baby. Just me," he growls, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. I moan into his mouth, my body moving in time with his fingers. I can feel myself getting closer, the tension building deep within me.

"Gabe . . ." I gasp, my voice barely above a whisper. He hums in response, his fingers moving faster, his thumb applying more pressure. My breath's coming in short, sharp gasps. I can feel myself on the edge, teetering on the brink of exploding.

"Let go, Ameline," he murmurs, his lips finding my ear. "Come for me." And with those words, I do. I shatter, my body convulsing around his fingers, milking them. My moans filling the room. He holds me close, his fingers still moving gently, prolonging the pleasure.

I'm still reeling from the aftershocks as he orders me, "Undress me, Ameline." His low growl sends shivers down my spine.

I comply, my fingers trembling slightly as I reach for the hem of his shirt. I lift it up, revealing his toned abs, the muscles rippling under my touch. I can't help but let my fingers linger, tracing the lines of his torso, remembering the feel of him against me.

As I pull the shirt over his head, I take a moment to appreciate the sight of him. His jaw is set, his eyes dark with desire. My eyes land on a tattoo on his left side, next to his ribs. It's my name, written in cursive.

"You have my name on you." I trace the inked letters, my fingertip gliding over smooth, hot skin. His bare chest feels electric under my touch. "You actually tattooed my name on your body."

Gabe's piercing eyes hold mine. "I needed you with me always. Even when you were too far away."

I stare, confused. Everything tells me that he loved me. He loved me just as much as I did him, but . . .

"What are you waiting for?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. I meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. I can't help but blush.

"I'm not just going to undress you," I say, meeting his gaze. "I want you to see me do it and enjoy it."

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I see you, Ameline. Believe me, I see you and I'm fucking enjoying the show."

His words send a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a fire in my belly. I can't help but smile, feeling a sense of empowerment. I continue undressing him, taking my time, savoring every moment.

As I slip off his pants, I can't help but admire the sight of him. He's all muscle and power, but there's also a vulnerability in his eyes, a softness that draws me in.

I step closer, my body pressing against his. I can feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension between us palpable. I look up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "How about now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. "Yes, Ameline. I see you. I've always seen you—and loved you."

But then, he takes control, pushing me against the wall and captivating me with a deep, passionate kiss. His hands move down to my hips, cradling my ass before lifting me. Instinctively, my legs encircle him, my ankles locking behind his back. His gaze never leaves mine as he enters me, slowly, inch by inch until he's deep inside.

Filling me completely.

He begins to rotate his hips before pulling out. Then pushing back inside. His intensity overwhelms me, each thrust deeper and more powerful than the last, stealing my breath. Feeling him so completely, I'm lost in the moment, wondering if this fire between us has always burned this fiercely, or if it's stronger since we need the heat to melt the pieces of our hearts so they can fuse back into one.

His movements grow more desperate. I feel myself climbing toward a peak, a buildup of all our shared history and unhealed wounds. My eyes close as I surrender to the sensation, the deep connection, his touch on my skin, and the shared rhythm of our shallow breaths.

Right now we're more than just two people fucking. We're two souls desperately trying to rediscover each other, to heal our broken past and maybe . . . before I can think of more, he suddenly slows his movements.

We stay like that for a moment, our bodies still connected, our breaths mingling in the air.

He pulls back, looking at me with an intensity that makes my heart race. "I still love you," he says between breaths. "So fucking much, it hurts not having you. It's hard to wake up without you by my side. Please forgive me. Please let me love you again."

I want to believe him. I really do. But after everything we've been through, I don't know if I can trust those words. I don't know if I can trust him. But for now, I push those thoughts aside, savoring the feeling of him inside me, the way his body fits against mine.

He begins to move again. My back presses against the chilly, unyielding wall, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his chest against mine. His thrusts are hard, almost desperate. Each one sends a jolt of pleasure through me, igniting a fire deep within my core. I can feel him, every inch of him, as he moves inside me. It's beyond intense. My nails dig into his shoulders. I can't help but let out a moan.

"More, more. Go faster," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper. I don't want this to end, not yet.

He doesn't reply, instead, he increases his pace, driving himself deeper into me.

I open my eyes, looking into his. There's a softness there, a tenderness that wasn't there before. It's then I realize he's not just making love to my body, he's making love to my soul.

He stops, his forehead resting against mine. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I admit.

For a moment, we savor our connection, wrapped in each other's arms, our hearts beating in sync. Then, he starts moving again, slower this time, more deliberate. Each thrust is a promise, a vow, a declaration of love.

His thrusts slow, and he rests his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet room. I can feel the beat of his heart, matching the rhythm of mine. It's a comforting sensation, one that takes me back to a time when we were young and in love, when we believed that our love could beat the odds.

I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation, letting it wash over me. For now, I choose to believe that love can still overcome whatever the future holds. That the love we once had can be rekindled, and our marriage can be saved.

I'll just hold onto this moment, this feeling of him inside me, his heart beating against mine. And I'll hope that maybe, just maybe, we can find our way back to each other.

Soon after, I can feel my body tensing, wanting to surrender to the wave of pleasure that threatens to consume me. I gasp, my breath hitching in my throat as I feel myself on the precipice, ready to plunge headfirst into the abyss.

"I'm close," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

He looks at me, his eyes dark with desire, and I can see the hunger in his gaze. "Me too," he says, his voice strained.

We move together, our bodies in perfect harmony, our rhythm building to a fever pitch. I can feel the tension mounting, my body tensing as I approach the edge.

And then, suddenly, I'm there. I scream, my voice bouncing through the room as I convulse around him, my body shuddering with the force of my orgasm. He follows me over the edge, his own release triggered by mine.

We collapse together, our bodies entwined, our breathing heavy and labored. I can feel his heart pounding against mine, the rhythm matching my own. It's comforting, one that makes me feel safe and loved.

He looks at me, his eyes filled with a tenderness that takes my breath away. "I love you," he whispers.

I want to say it back, but even when a part of me still loves him, I don't know if I'm in love with him.

Can I ever love him the way I did?

Can our love heal us both?

"Don't think," he says, resting his head on my shoulder. "Just stay in the moment, baby. Just for tonight."

But is tonight enough?