Married Again
And he did.
They crashed into each other like a wave against stone—needing, claiming, choosing.
Clothes dropped to the floor in a trail of surrender.
They made love slowly this time—no dominance, no possession—just skin, sighs, and promises whispered between gasps.
She touched his scars.
He kissed her tears.
And when they lay tangled in the sheets, hearts pounding in sync, he turned to her.
“I never thought I’d marry again,” he said.
“You didn’t,” she whispered.