His tongue drank down the spectrum of cries, hisses, moans, and mewls that came from my mouth as though he had been deprived of waterandwhiskey for too long.
The sensation between my legs ran from one extreme to the next—a great ache that pleaded for more, and a great punishment that begged for the end.
Tomorrow would come, and his mark would be all over me and in me. I would be able to feel him in every movement, every touch, even in sleep, in the darkness of dreams.
His imprint was the shield to fear—because I was his, and he’d die to protect me. To follow my path, no matter how fast I ran from him and how deep into the woods I’d go.
He’d bring the darkness to find me—the light he knew so well.
A light in the glaring brightness of day is lost; it takes the darkness for the light to really burn hot enough to shine. One compliments the other, opposites that attract.
We both had come to a point of peace—a point where we both recognized that there was no fear in love, even when life became devastating.
An overwhelming sense of appreciation seemed to flow over me then, knowing that this man had been intended for me.
Tears ran down my cheeks in a cool, steady flow. “I—” I had a hard time finishing but did. I didn’t want him to stop. “It’s. Not. This. Or. You. I—”
He seemed to understand. If he thought that my restraint had lessened, or my resolve, he would have stopped, eased up, but he didn’t. Neither did the cries from my mouth that continued to turn the peaceful night around us upside down, or the sinking of my claws into his flesh that rattled him.
Up, up, up, and out, I felt as though I were a star, about to streak across the darkness of the sky. I couldn’t hold on any longer, and he sensed this too. He always did.
“With me,” he ordered in Italian. “Withme, my wife.”
“Brando!”
His name on my tongue felt like a litany before an explosion seemed to burst from my mouth, somewhere between a sob and a scream at the release. He growled low in his throat, and together, I wasn’t sure where we stood anymore. The release was explosive. It sent me into a dizzying orbit, and then sent me crashing.
My knees gave, turned to jelly, as though all that was solid had liquified, and I became another creature entirely. Boneless, full of air, about to fade into the night or drift with the current of the sea, without direction.
His gravity became me, rooting me.
Still connected, he took us both to the floor, keeping me pressed against his chest—his heart strong enough to burst through and crash into mine.
“You keep me here, too,” he whispered—his voice close to breathless—as if he’d read my mind.
My breath had left me, along with every ounce of strength my body possessed. I was totally useless. Powerless, if not for him.
My face rested against his warm skin, both of us slippery with sweat. I could taste it on my tongue, along with the lingering taste of blood from my lip or his. The smell of dew was strong in the air, clean and fresh, but sharp. Morning must have only been an hour or so away.
His arms moved, adjusted, his hands stroking my back in long, languid caresses. The tips of his fingers were not smooth, a bit calloused from doing odd jobs around the house, but still felt like heaven. I inhaled, drinking him in, and the scent seemed to drive the point home.
Brando Piero Fausti was my idea of heaven.
A cool rush of air passed over us, the wind outside rattling trees and leaves, the petals of the roses swaying slightly, their fragrance in the air as heady as the dew, but he had cocooned me in his warmth.
Goosebumps still rose from my skin, whether from the moment, his touch, or the actual chill, it was hard to tell.
He cleared his throat but said nothing. Even that small movement seemed to disturb the peace. Every part of me ached, and I swam in the feeling of it, knowing he could reach me so deeply without destroying me.
Rejoicing in the pain made me feel alive, every part of me still clinging to the virility of him.
Tears still flowed down my cheeks, slipping onto his chest. Warm at first, but the weather cooled them not long after. Blinking a few times didn’t seem to help the distorted visions. The world around me seemed fractured, not entirely real.
Could I still be dreaming? The earlier dream taking on the face of peace instead of a nightmare?
I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
* * *
