There was a reason why I loved Jake, why I was drawn to him from the get-go.

He fucking gets me.

No shrink, no meditation, no standard orthodox method of mental repair was going to fix me, and Jake knew it. So he offered me what he could.

"Do it," I breathed. I hated the idea of being cut, but I loved what he was offering me. The scars had me trapped in my own mind. He was offering me freedom. "Do it."

Jake didn't answer me. He just pulled me into him and kissed me, his tongue seeking entrance. With one hand on the back of my head, he tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled until my head tilted back and I opened my mouth to him. He smelled of sweat and the salt water. He tasted like mint and cigarettes. I couldn't get close enough. He pushed me back until the back of my knees hit the small bench seat in the back of the boat. Jake pulled back from me and unbuttoned my shorts. I lifted my hips to so he could slide them down my thighs. He tossed them on the captain’s chair and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and slid them down. He ran his tongue from my belly button down to my clit softly sucking on my sensitive bud as he tossed my panties overboard.

"Hey!" I tried to argue with him about discarding my underwear, but he just lapped his tongue over me, pulling my legs up over his shoulders as he knelt down in front of me. I quickly forgot what I was about to say.

He licked my core like he was kissing me. It was intimate, soft, yet sexy and passionate. He was telling me he wanted me with his tongue, and my pussy was responding in turn by pulsing around his tongue as he licked and sucked on my folds.

I vaguely remembered him saying something about cutting me, about not replacing the bad memories, but dominating over them. I couldn't focus. The boat was rocking from side to side as I tried to buck my hips. Jake held me in place with his strong hands, pulling me toward him and devouring me with his tongue like I was his last meal.

I opened my eyes as my orgasm hit. Staring up at the night sky, I clenched my thighs around Jake’s head as I was pelted by wave after wave of pure fucking pleasure, courtesy of sexy Jake fucking Dunn.

My HUSBAND.

Jake didn't wait for me to come down. He stood, removed his belt, pulled down his jeans and in one swift motion flipped me onto my stomach, I gripped the edge of the boat to brace myself. I felt his knees against my ass and then he was seeking entrance, rubbing himself in my wetness before pushing his way inside. My body stretched to extreme lengths to accommodate his size and when he was fully seated inside my body, I felt so full I thought I was going to burst at the seams.

Jake thrust into me once. Hard. I shrieked in surprise, and my insides clenched around him. He bent over me with his chest over my back and kissed the base of my neck as he pulled out and thrust into me again. Hard.

The buildup was slow at first, but as Jake continued his assault on my sex, it continued to grow and grow until I was pushing my ass back toward him and silently begging for some sort of release. I heard a clicking noise and didn't realize what was happening until my orgasm slammed into me. I was vaguely aware of a sharp scratching sensation running down my arm but I was focusing on the release of the most amazing pressure. Everything inside me was alive and content. Jake grabbed my hips and with every deep thrust he pulled me hard against him. Faster and faster until he pushed in as far as he could, then pulled out. Hot liquid spurted out onto my ass.

A different kind of liquid dripped down my arm.

"Come here, baby," Jake said, pulling me up by my arm, setting me on his lap. Jake pulled out a first aid kit and started cleaning the blood off my arm with an alcohol swab. "Did I hurt you?" Concern written all over his face.

"No," I said honestly.

"Good. Because I think this will do the trick." I looked down at my arm. Next to the deepest scar Jake had followed the lines of my tattoos and carved a line about six inches in length into my skin. Not deep enough to cause permanent damage, but deep enough to leave a mark.

A visible scar.

Now, when I looked at my arm, I would see my scars and remember that one of them held a great memory.

Jake had given that to me.

Jake pulled out a needle and thread, and to my surprise, he started stitching me up.

"How do you know how to do that?" I asked.

"I had to do it to myself a few times."

"Do I want to know more?" I asked.

"Nope."

"Okay then." I cupped his face in my hands and brought his mouth to mine. I pressed my lips against his, trying to convey my gratitude to him with that kiss. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. You would've done the same."