We ate delicious freshly caught lobster, perfectly cooked steak, followed by a rich chocolate pudding. Not much was said at first. Our fingers brushed, and our toes tangled beneath the table in the sand. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore filled the silence, but time was slipping through our fingers like water, no matter how tightly we held on.
Every bite I took tasted like a memory I’d already begun mourning.
“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.
“That I want this to last forever,” I admitted. “Even though I know….” My gaze dropped to my plate as I swallowed down the words I dared not to say.
He stared at his glass, his gaze refusing to meet mine. “It could.”
“No,” I said, voice firm. “Not with your father breathing down your neck. Not with the life I’ve been forced into. You and I are now part of different worlds.”
He met my eyes eventually. Something flickered in his. Pain. Guilt. Fury. “Then why does it feel like you’re the only person I’ve ever belonged to?”
I swallowed hard. “Because I am. And you’re mine.”
Silence stretched between us, only broken by the sound of the waves and the wind rustling the fauna.
I exhaled. “This isn’t just about us anymore. It’s abouthim,and you know it.” His jaw flexed. “Don’t lie to me, Theo. Don’t protect him. He wouldn’t protect you.”
“I’m not protecting him,” he said. “I’m surviving him.”
“Thenfighthim. Not for me. For you. For the person you are when he’s not watching.”
“I’m trying.”
“No. You’re not.” My voice cracked. “Tryharder.You don’t get to want me with half your heart.”
His chair scraped against the sand as he stood and moved toward me. He knelt beside me, both hands wrapping around mine.
“You’re everything I never thought I could have. You want the truth? I’m terrified. Every second of every day. Because I know this is temporary, and I know I’m going to lose you. No matter how much I wish I could keep you.” He sighed like the world was crushing him. “No matter how much I want you, I…fear I’m not enough.”
I leaned forward, touching my forehead to his. “Then stop counting down the time we have left and fuckingtakeit.”
We stood. Slowly. Wordlessly. Totally in sync. Fingers laced, hearts bleeding. We walked the shoreline, waves whispering at our ankles as we wandered back to the estate. The silence stretched again, this time heavy, swollen with everything we didn’t know how to say.
“He’s going to find out,” I murmured.
“I know.”
“And when he does?—”
Theo stopped by the flaming torches that led back to our room. He turned, cupped my face, and buried his hand in the hair at the back of my head, anchoring me like I was the only real thing left. “Then let’s make this count. Let’s burn the world down around us if we have to.”
Our lips met like a clash of storms as we stumbled up the flame-lit path, never breaking our connection. There was nothing sweet about this kiss. It was desperate. Filthy. Raw. Teeth caught lips—his, mine, blood blooming between us like a holy sacrament. Tongues collided. Copper flooded our mouths. A groan tore from his chest as he pulled me closer.
“Ineedyou,” he growled against my mouth. “I wake up with your name on my lips and this—this ache in my chest that won’t go away unless I’mwithyou.”
“Then have me,” I breathed. “Until we forget what it’s like to be apart.”
He slammed me against the villa door, hands roaming, hips grinding. “I’ll never forget you,” he rasped. “You’re etched into me.”
Clothes fell in a frantic cascade, a trail of silk, torn fabric, and buttons littering marble like the remnants of restraint. Each discarded piece was a surrender. A warning. A promise.
We stumbled into the bedroom like heathens chasing ruin, not salvation. The kind of sinners who didn’t beg for forgiveness. Our limbs tangled, teeth clashed, and mouths collided in a frenzy that had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with need.
Every kiss was a violent prayer. Every touch a desperate act of worship and destruction, a holy war waged in skin and heat and gasping, ragged breaths.
His hands were fucking everywhere, gripping, scratching, claiming, like he could never get enough of me, like he wasterrified I’d vanish if he let go. And mine were no better—no gentler—nails dragging across his skin, marking him, grounding me in sweat-slicked warmth, proof that he was here.Real.
