Page 95

I don’t want him to go. My orgasm approaches, and I frown and close my eyes, feeling the tightening begin deep inside, and fighting the urge to cry. Not yet, not yet… I bite my lip hard, moaning as the pulses begin. Fuck, that’s powerful, oh, oh, ohhh… I cry out, but he doesn’t stop, riding me all the way through it. And still he thrusts, and I watch him through watery eyes as his powerful body tenses. Then he stops and shudders, his hips jerking as he spills inside me.

Ohhh… he’s magnificent…

I can’t stop the tears now. He looks down at me and sighs, then releases my hands.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, trying to wipe them away.

“Don’t be.” He lowers down, still inside me, and kisses me. “It’s okay, baby. I understand.”

I give a deep, shaky sigh, and he kisses my face, touching his lips to the tears.

We lie there like that for a while, and then eventually he withdraws and disposes of the condom. But he doesn’t roll over and get up. Instead, he pulls the duvet up a little, draws me into his arms, and hugs me.

I lie there, my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat gradually begin to slow. He strokes my hair, then my back, drawing light patterns on my skin.

I feel exhausted from the emotion and the passion, wrung out like a wet rag. My thoughts are like the flat when we first came in: a jumble of boxes, everything in the wrong place, and I can’t even begin to get them in order.

Mitch kisses my forehead and says, “Shh, I’ve got you.”

I close my eyes, and before I can think anything more, I fall asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Mitch

Vix’s breathing has evened out. I think she’s dozed off.

I lie as still as I can, so I don’t disturb her. It’s warm in the room, but the nets flutter with a sea breeze, and gradually the temperature starts to cool. I lift the duvet up her back, so she doesn’t get cold, and kiss her hair.

I look up at the tulle above our heads, thinking for the first time how it looks like her wedding dress. I wonder whether she thought the same thing? I should have chosen a different colour. But I liked the symbolism behind it. I don’t mean the western symbolism of purity or innocence or the eastern connotations of mourning and grief. I guess it’s a blend of all those things. I’m saying goodbye to all the negative emotions I’ve felt in the past—longing, yearning, loneliness, and jealousy—and instead welcoming light into my life to cleanse away all the shadows.

You old romantic, Mitch. But it’s true.

I think about how I told her I was going to cover her skin in love bites. A small part of me was tempted to carry that through, a kind of feral wedding ring, to show other men that she belonged to me. Caveman Mitch. Permanently Homo erectus whenever she’s around.

I give a long, heartfelt sigh, trying to release all the tension from my body. I’ve wanted her in my bed for so long, I can’t believe she’s finally here. I feel sad that she cried. Was it because she felt disloyal to Jayden? Surely not. Hopefully it was just because she was overwhelmed with my magnificent lovemaking.

I look up at the ceiling. No, it was definitely because of Jayden.

I turn my head and look at her wedding ring sitting on the bedside table. She said she’s returning to her maiden name, and she insisted her marriage is done. She’s not the type of girl to sleep with someone else if she’s thinking about going back to her husband, and we’ve just had amazing sex. What more of a signal do I need that it’s over? And yet I still feel a twinge of unease deep inside.

Pondering that, I close my eyes, and within a few minutes I fall into a light doze.

I open my eyes when Vix stirs. Behind her, the light has turned to a rich, buttery yellow. Oh, we’ve slept for a while. I check my watch and see that almost an hour has gone by.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, sitting up. “I fell asleep.”

“Me too.”

“You wore me out.” She smiles.

I sit up too and brush her hair back from her face. “Are you okay?”

She nods, and so I cup her face and kiss her, turning it into a long, slow smooch that only stops when my stomach gives a long, low rumble.

We break apart, laughing. “Must be time to eat,” she teases, rolling over and getting up.

“I didn’t have much for lunch,” I admit. “I went to the cottage to shower, and when I got back, all the savoury scrolls were gone.”