Say It
CULLEN
When Sarah walked into the room, I could tell something was different.
I didn’t know what it was, couldn’t quite put my finger on it but it was there. It was in the way she closed the door behind her. In the way she stood, just in front of it, like she had planted herself there on purpose. Like she was steadying the world before it could move again.
And then she looked at me. A look I had never seen before. Determined. Grounded. Almost... fierce.
I didn’t know her that well, but even so, it put me on edge. Because I knew two things with absolute certainty.
One: she had decided I wasn’t worth the trouble..She had told her father about me. And now he was probably outside this door with his men, ready to shoot me and send my body home in a box.
Or and this was what I hoped for ...
Two: She had decided to give us a chance. She had decided to throw herself out there, to risk everything and try again. With me.
But then… I realised I was wrong about both.
She didn’t move toward me. She didn’t smile. She just stood there, breathing like it hurt her lungs, like whatever she was about to say was costing her something she didn’t know if she could afford.
Then soft, nearly a whisper, she said my name.
“Cullen...”
My body tensed. I was already giving her every bit of my attention, but that one word? It locked me in.
“Sarah,” I replied, almost afraid of what would come next.
She inhaled again, deep, trembling. This was taking everything from her. Everything she had. Then she said it.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I want to try.”
What she said took me off guard. I know it was what I wanted, what I had been hoping to hear from the second I stepped into this house but still, it hit different. She seemed hesitant. Like the words had scraped her throat on the way out. She stood there, silent, holding her breath, and I found myself needing to make sure I’d heard her right.
“Are you sure?” I asked her.
She nodded. That look in her eyes again, determined, focused, braver than I think I’d ever seen her.
“You wanna try to make this work?” I asked. “Our marriage?You and you?”
I got off the bed, took a few slow steps toward her. Close enough to see every blink, every breath. Close enough to observe the truth in her eyes. She nodded again.
“I would like that in words, please,” I said gently, trying to lighten the moment.
Her expression was too serious, too heavy. I did want her to take this seriously, God knows I did, but something about her demeanour made my chest tight. Something had shifted in her. Something I couldn’t quite name.
“I want you to kiss me,” she said.
That caught me off guard, again. It was not the answer I was expecting. Hell, it wasn’t even the question I thought we were answering.
Today was the first time we kissed, even after being married for a year. A whole damn year. It was a big deal. So yes, yes, I wanted to kiss her again. More than anything. But the way she asked... it made me pause.
“Kiss you?” I repeated, just to be sure.
“Yes. Now,” she said. “I want to know how it feels.”
I blinked. “We already did kiss,” I reminded her.
She shrugged slightly, eyes burning into mine. “Yeah. But I want you to kiss me again. I want to make sure I felt what I felt the first time.”
And there it was, the most vulnerable request I’d ever heard. Honest. Real. Maybe even scared. I could feel my heart pounding in my throat as I reached for her, every part of me trying to answer her with something more than just a kiss.
She hummed, a soft, warm sound that vibrated against my lips. I nudged the silken strands of her hair away, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. My mouth found her pulse point, a frantic flutter beneath my lips, and I kissed it, a soft claim. Then, a gentle bite, just enough to mark her as mine, and a shiver ran through her. Good.
I moved lower, my tongue tracing the line of her collarbone, tasting her. My hands, which had been resting at her waist, glided upward, past her ribs. The pressure was light, almost unbearable in its tenderness. The air crackled around us, charged with the possibilities of what was to come. She breathed my name,
"Cullen," a soft, uncertain whisper, but it died in her throat as my hands cupped the soft weight of her breasts through the fabric of her dress.
Goose bumps flashed across Sarah's smooth skin and the outline of her erect nipples strained against the thin fabric of her dress. My cock hardened at the tantalising sight. Fuck. I wanted her, wanted to possess her. I ran my fingers over her ribcage, then up to the edge of her breasts. Her body tensed under my touch, not with eagerness. I regarded her face, her closed eyes, the way she was biting down on her lower lip and her lashes were fluttering. She was nervous and scared. I wondered what had her feeling that way. I definitely hadn’t given her reason to be scared of me. I leaned down to her ear.
“Have you ever been with a man?”
I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it. I was fucking eager to have her admit it. She shuddered and gave a small shake of her head.
“Say it,” I ordered softly.
Her eyelashes fluttered open. “No. I haven’t been with a man.”
I kissed her throat. “So I will be your first.” My cock twitched in eagerness.
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