Derrick
Alisa falls forward, air racing past her lips. She rests her forehead on the back of the couch instead of on my shoulder.
Physically, that was the most of myself I could ever give her. The closest I’ll ever allow her, the most control I’ll ever give her.
The realisation is crippling. I’ve always been deeply aware of my shortcomings as a partner, as a mate, but I wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt me. Or her, for that matter. And her pain is mine to carry too. Given what I'm doing to her, it's the least I can do.
I hold her a little closer for a moment longer, my hands roaming over her back. “How was that?” I ask.
“Good,” she says, her voice still a little shaky. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”
“Well,” I chuckle. “Now you do. Which do you prefer?”
I dread her
