Submit to Me

15 - Sloane

It shocked me when Aaron kissed me, something I didn't see coming and something I never expected him to do. But holy hell, can he kiss. And my Lord, did it ever feel good to experience the soft touch of his lips on mine again.

For years, I wondered what it would be like if Aaron were to kiss me again. I anticipated experiencing it again, but felt it would never happen—not in a million years.

So, when he kissed me, it surprised me so much that I forgot what it was like to have someone else's lips pressed against mine. Chills were quick to spread throughout my entire body.

When Aaron's tongue touched mine, and it went exploring, thrilling sensations overcame me I hadn't felt in so long that it sparked a pleasurable moan from the heated, surprising moment, especially when the bristle on Aaron's face rubbed against my flesh.

At first, it embarrassed me since I had never been one to make noises during a kiss or sex. But that sound leaving me only fueled Aaron to deepen the kiss, instantly exciting me even more and ending my embarrassment. But then he ended what I was enjoying, and it caused me to whimper when his lips left mine.

Now, I was freaking out as he walked me back to the mirror I didn't want to see again after telling me he was going to test me.

I hoped he had forgotten.

He hadn't.

As I stood before him, looking at the person I hated looking at every day, he begged me to repeat what he said to me earlier. I looked at my face, eyes, nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. And my neck, his hand was wrapped around earlier, admiring. Then I looked slowly down my body, stopping at my belly and momentarily closing my eyes, remembering the two beautiful humans that were once inside me, stretching my flesh.

"I'm waiting," Aaron quietly pushed. "I want to hear you tell me everything I gushed to you about earlier. And I don't want to see any disgusted facial expressions appearing on your face as you repeat everything I said I liked about you, either. I want you to hear yourself say what I see and love about you."

I can't do this.

It's too hard.

I still don't see what he sees. I look at my thunder thighs, and it makes me wonder how he could enjoy looking at something that should be much thinner—like I used to be before the accident.

"Sloane," Aaron warned, causing my eyes to jump up to his. He looked like he was growing impatient. "You can do this—I know you can. Forget about how you used to be. This is you. Appreciate it. Accept it. Love it. Adore it. Treasure it, especially since you have so many things other women wish for and want. Remember. You're healthy. You're beautiful. You're you. Nobody else matters but you. You're alive and here with me again. We worked things out. I accepted your apologies and forgave you, but most importantly, I accept you for who you are. I'm not going anywhere, Sloane. Now, all I need you to do is accept who you are."

Aaron had me wanting to cry, but not wanting to disappoint him, I forced those tears to stay where they were.

I swallowed those pesky, clear, solid-liquid drops and finally said what he wanted to hear, even though I disagreed with what he saw. "You like the coloring of my eyes. You like my nose, cheekbones, and chin. You claim I'm the most beautiful woman you've ever seen... but I still have a hard time believing that." I quietly added, earning a scowl from Aaron.

"I don't claim. It's what I see because it's the fucking truth. If you don't want me to discipline you for that remark. Retract it," Aaron demanded.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, looking back at my face and studying it, trying to see what Aaron wanted me to see. If these scars weren't covering a part of me, what everyone else sees when they come in contact with me, I'd agree with him, but it's still too hard to acknowledge what he wants me to believe.