I nodded and glimpsed Caelan. He was pale.
I held Anna close to my chest and carried her to my dressing room. I locked the door with my everi and rested her on the chaise lounge.
Her eyes were more focused but her skin and lips were still pale.
I put water to her lips and she took a small sip.
“You do not have to talk about it if you are not ready,” I said. “But I want to know that you are okay.”
When she looked at me, she shook her head slowly.
“I don't know what happened,” she said quietly. “As soon as I finished my line and closed my eyes, I was so tired. And I dreamed. I could feel her, Blake. I could feel Adara in my dreams. She was dying.”
I watched her, wondering if somehow her anxiety about the play had triggered everi exhaustion. It seemed unlikely, but what else could it have been?
She stared blankly into her lap. “I can’t remember what happened, but it’s not right. Something was wrong.”
I sat beside her and pulled her close.
“Anna,” I said, gently stroking her hair. “I think perhaps the intensity of the role resonated too much with your own experiences.”
She frowned as she thought about it.
“You think this was about my mom?” she whispered.
“I do not know, but I swear I will protect you, Anna,” I said. “I will do whatever it takes.”
She touched my face, her action resolute and without the hint of apprehension she usually had.
“Blake,” she said. “I’m…”
Her voice strained.
“I’m so in love with you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to lose you.”
I could feel her energy. It was radiating around her. Something was different. I was not sure what, but it was more potent, raw.
“Anna, I am right here,” I said.
She nodded, her face full of sorrow and passion. “May I kiss you?”
Something about the way she asked me for permission stabbed deep in my chest. I leaned down, securing myself around her on the chaise lounge.
“You need never ask my permission,” I said.
Her wide eyes glistened as she relaxed, pulling me closer to her. I kissed her, gently at first, to which she eagerly responded. Her lips were saying all the words she could not get out. Whatever she experienced had put her on edge—her desperation, the need to live every moment she had, the need to feel everything she could.
She was insatiable—she even tasted of need as her mouth moved against mine. Her feral kisses were deep and long, like she was enjoying making me wait. Her hands braced my neck, sure to never let me get too far as I shifted to free myself of the belt restraining me. She moved with me, her firm thighs gripping tightly at my waist. The skirt of her dress was already at her waist; her thighs wet with need as I removed her undergarment.
Usually, I maintained some form of control, but right now, there was only her grinding her hips against mine. Her mouth was my sanctuary, her body my art, and her entryway my drug of choice.
Her entire body was braced to receive me, her back arched and supported by her elbows pressed deeply into the velvet emerald of the chaise lounge when three deep raps sounded at the door.
“Come on, you two! Everyone’s waiting for you!” Isabella called.
“Hmmmm,” I growled, against her throat.
Anna was a picture of grace and sexuality as her thick lashes fluttered. A small smile formed on her lips. I smiled, kissing her, then her throat, and her lips again, before I traced the curve of her jaw to her ear.
