I Miss My Lover Novels & Stories

Missy says as I thrust myself deeper into her. Her exhale causes me to pick up the pace. I watch us making love in the mirror across her bedroom. It makes our moment together even sexier and more passionate. Her zeal for me is intoxicating, and even I have to admit that I don't think Sam ever loved me as much as Missy does right now. I'm getting ready to come as Missy moans louder. Her voice has put a new tune in my soul, and that's when I know I've started my journey on falling out of love with Samantha Laplow.

If it wasn’t for the lively companion Selene had right now, she’d have a hard time walking alone because of how eery it became. “I can’t believe you know Lucas Mandel?” Loraine squealed in delight, uncontrollably jumping while clapping her hands non-stop. The girl looked like a child that had too much candy, continuously prancing around without a sign of tiredness. “I’m not sure of his surname, but I only met him a few times.” Thinking back on the people she had a conversation with that day, there was only one person with that name. Also, seeing how the woman was ogling the fellow this morning said a lot.

I saw him in her arms, it tore me apart, My love for him etched deep within my heart. How could he not see the pain he caused in me? I was just a silent admirer, but he held the key. Now I'm drowning in sorrow, lost in despair, A shattered dream, love's unfair affair. 🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶 🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

My heart clenched. “Do you remember Paris?” he asked suddenly. My breath hitched. “How could I forget?” Lorenzo smiled faintly, the memory softening his features. “There’s something I told you that night. Something I never explained.” He straightened, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he recited, “Car, vois-tu, chaque jour je t’aime davantage, Aujourd’hui plus qu’hier et bien moins que demain.” My lips parted in shock. “you never told me the meaning. What does it mean?”

Blood trickled down her chin. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he knelt before her. He dabbed away the blood. Her bony fingers wrapped around his wrist, eyes pleading, “Are you here to deliver me from this misery?” She croaked. He offered a reassuring smile, “Aye, if that is your wish.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. It froze halfway down, “I cannot bare this life a second longer.”

I didn't dwell on it, and I'd never think of him again. Love was like tending to a flower, and Roscoe was a perfect gardener. My life after marriage was simple and happy. Sometimes, when my emotions ran high, I would ask Roscoe, "Do you ever mind my past with Benji?" And he would always silence me with a kiss. "Syd, love always feels like something is missing. I regret not confessing to you sooner and causing you to suffer so much." Two years later, Roscoe and I had a beautiful baby girl. Another two years after that, my own international trade company had an annual revenue of millions.

“Is she the one you’re looking for, sir?” I forced a pained expression onto my face. “Yes… she’s the one. She was my girlfriend, but she left me for another man. Despite that, I never stopped loving her. When I heard she had been in an accident, I had to find her.” The guard’s face softened with sympathy. “You have a good heart, sir. Loving someone who doesn’t appreciate you… that takes real strength.” I sighed, pretending to be heartbroken. “I just need a moment with her. To say goodbye… even if she’ll never hear me.”

I missed you. I’m sorry. I’m here. I still love you.

My stepmother just watched from the sidelines, waiting for the day I finally crashed and burned. No one had ever asked me if I was in pain. I stared into Vito's unfathomable eyes. Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. "Vito Luca, I'll marry you." A flicker of surprise flashed through his eyes but was quickly drowned by his usual calm. "But before that, I need to ask you something." I locked my gaze on his, enunciating every word. "Do you have someone you love but can't have? Because my man can only belong to me. There can't be anyone else in his heart."

I kiss her. It is not a gentle kiss. It is a taking of possession, a desperate reclamation. My lips crush against hers, seeking an opening, a response, a memory. I taste the salt of a tear she hasn't shed, I feel the trembling she refuses to show. I give her all my passion, all my pain, all the monstrous and wasted love that chokes me. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. The words echo in my head, in every pressure of my lips, in every quiver of my fingers on her nape.