L. Marie Adeline- S.E.C.R.E.T

me.
“You’ll never be afraid again, Cassie,” he said.
I lifted for him, and then with my eyes closed, savored the feel of him. How long had it
been since a man entered me? Had I ever been taken so richly, so completely before?
Never. My wanting was so intense, it almost felt like my first time.
He was thrusting into me, deeper and deeper, stopping every inch so that I could take
him in, breathe into him, and then began to move above me, slowly at rst, and then
faster, rhythmically, smoothly. I couldn’t help but gasp. His arms were beneath me,
pulling me towards him so he could move deeper inside me. I couldn’t believe how wet I
was. My thighs were now wrapped high around his back, the muscles in his arms tensing
and twitching.
“Cassie, this is incredible,” he said, before nudging me to turn over and slide on top of
him, which I did. His hands found my waist and held on, and he lifted me until we found
our rhythm again. Then he put his thumb to me, bringing yet another part of me alive.
“I could do this to you forever,” he said.
But it was too much to bear. I threw my head back, my hands on his chest. He was so
far inside me it felt like he was part of me, and as he stroked in and out, something in
me ignited as he touched a spot, the sweetest spot I owned.
Pleasure swam to the surface, moving me out of the way so it could take over. “Baby,
you’re going to make me come.” The words tumbled out of my mouth.
He pushed into me, into that spot inside of me, until I had no choice but to let go. It
was like a wave, inside and out. I rode him hard, and as I did I could feel him tense up
and let out a low, deep moan. I didn’t care anymore about falling, about the danger,
about where I was, and what was happening outside with the sea. Only what was
happening inside mattered, here on the bed, in this boat, with this Greek god of a man
who’d plucked me from the water and who I was now straddling on a high, soft bed.
Moments later I collapsed across his chest. I felt him recede inside of me until he
gently eased himself out. And then he lay there, lazily stroking my back, tugging at my
damp hair, and muttering, over and over again, “Incredible.”
That night, lying in my own bed, my journal in my lap, Dixie on the pillow next to me, I
still felt some leftover vertigo from the boat. The Spinster Hotel seemed to be gently
rocking from side to side.
I tried to put down in words why this sea adventure had been so transformative. Was
it the thrilling ride to the yacht, surviving the plunge over the side of it, or sex in the
rescue boat with a man who did everything so beautifully? Was it coming on deck with
him to sip hot chocolate and watch the sunset, so vivid after the storm? Was it when he
slipped my Step Five charm into my hand, Fearlessness engraved on the back? Yes, it
was all of those moments and more. I remembered Matilda telling me that fear can’t be
released without our permission. Since we ourselves generate it, only we can let it go.
And that’s exactly what I had done. There was fear. I felt it. Then I let it go.