Last night, when he’d gotten into to bed with me, my heart had fluttered all night. I’d had butterflies in my stomach like a f*****g schoolgirl and thought that we’d finally be at peace. He’d hold me, tell me that he loved me, and everything would be fine. Instead, he’d been stiff next to me, and whenever his hand grazed my belly, he’d immediately moved it away. It was all I could do not to sob in the bed next to him.
Now, he kissed me like he would never let me go. His arms lifted me until my legs were hooked around his waist, and his hands wandered under my shirt. Inside me, my wolf howled in relief. I needed that skin-to-skin contact.
But what she didn’t know was that this wasn’t solving anything. I needed him to tell me what was wrong, not another hard f**k where he would just turn a
