Based on the signs his body is giving me—hard nipples, harder cock, dilated pupils—I get the feeling that that's all he wants, too. For a split second, I wish neither of us had a past, wish neither of us had experienced the kind of pain that rips through you and leaves you a bleeding mess on the floor. But then, it's our pain that drew us together in the first place. I don't know who I'd be without it, who Cope would be. And if it takes pain for us to be together then I don't know that I'd shed the cocoon of hurt around my shoulders if I could, snap my fingers and stop missing my family.
