I wanted him. I wanted him to finish what he started. I wanted his mouth on my skin, his body breaking me open. Not just physically. Emotionally. Completely. And that’s the part that scares me most. Because I don’t just want the sex. I want him. The man who sees all my ugly and doesn’t run. Even when I tell him to fuck off. The one who could destroy me with a single word, but instead, whispers “wife” like it’s holy.
