by Liz K. Lorde
When my eyes land on him, every muscle in my body seems to relax instantly, and relief floods within me.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He says from the seat beside me. His eyes stray momentarily from the road, looking quickly over me as his lips pull into a grin.
“Good morning.” I echo back groggily.
“How did you sleep?”
“Heavy.”
I reach for a bottle of water in the cup holder, downing half of it in one shot.
The last few days have passed in a blur; which is understandable, given that I’ve been asleep for most of them.
Exhaustion is funny that way. I had no idea how utterly tired I was until I had Cas back at my side. The days since his reappearance represent the only decent sleep I’ve had in years.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking at the scenery that flies by outside the window.
Empty desert stretches as far as the eye can see; the occasional shrub being the only life in view.
“Not far now. You’ve been asleep for a while.”
I rub a hand idly across my face, willing the lethargy to pass.
Truth be told, I still feel slightly in shock. My mind seems unable to truly process my new reality.
Even now, a completely illogical part of my mind insists that this isn’t real at all. That maybe I went through with my plan after all—and that all of this is just the creation of my dying mind. Or, worse yet—that I’m only dreaming and will wake up any moment—married to Yuri.
My skin crawls at this last thought; my stomach clenching at the very idea.
Death would be the better option by far.
“Are you okay?” Cas’ words break in—his voice a reassurance that this is all true.
“Fine, just half asleep.”
“Here,” he says, passing me a gas station cup of coffee from the other cup holder. It’s nearly cold, but the scent alone invigorates me.
Gratefully, I drain every drop.
“There it is.” I hear Cas say in announcement.
Looking forward, the outline of a city appears slowly on the horizon.
Las Vegas. Here we are again.
I haven’t stepped foot in the city since the day Cas was shot, the day I believed he died. Even now, my heart beats faster at the mere sight of it. The images I’ve spent years trying to forget forcefully rushing through my mind: Yuri, storming through the doors of the chapel—Cas, bleeding out on the cheap carpeting.
I rub my eyes, willing the images to fade.
Cas didn’t die. He’s here with me and nothing can take him now.
Las Vegas is our city, always has been. And now, approaching it so quickly with Cas back at my side, I realize how much I’ve missed it.
It truly feels like coming home—our home.
I turn my attention back to Cas, actually taking in his appearance for the first time since waking. His clothes are unusually disheveled, dark bags beginning to form beneath his green eyes.
“Have you slept at all? I ask, concern heavy in my voice.
He raises an eyebrow, a guilty smile creeping onto his face.
“No.”
I can’t help the note of scolding that finds its way into my tone.
“Cas, how long has it been?”
“Two or three days,” he answers casually.
“Cas!”
“What? We’re almost there, it’s fine.”
I open my mouth to argue further, then quickly decide it’s more than pointless. It’s not like there’s any point in stopping now.
“Fine,” I echo reluctantly, hearing him chuckle in response.
I stare intently out the windshield as the city grows in the distance, indistinct shapes forming into buildings that I know well. My worry over Cas’ lack of sleep fades quickly as we near, and excitement takes up its place.
It’s been too long.
Too long since I’ve been here. Too long since I’ve been with Cas. And, damn sure, too long since I’ve felt the happiness now radiating through me.
Truthfully, it’s an emotion I never thought I’d experience again.
Here we are though, pulling back into our city—damaged but still living.
I feel Cas’ eyes on me and turn to look as a grin pulls at my lips.
Minutes later, we’re back in the city proper, familiar sights tugging at my attention. People mill about freely on the sidewalks, some snapping pictures of the various landmarks.
I spare a glance down at myself, and wince at the state I find myself in.
Having blessedly escaped my wedding gown, I had limited options as to clothing. Namely, none.
Thankfully, Cas had actually packed for the trip. Draped around me, long enough to pass as a dress, I wear one of his shirts, now wrinkled terribly. My wedding shoes still don my feet, feeling wrong in the face of my new freedom.
For some reason I couldn’t explain at the time, I opted to bring my gown along for the ride; its opulent fabric now filling the backseat.
As we drive deeper into the heart of the city I once loved, the reason for dragging it with me comes clear.
Without hesitation, I unbuckle my seatbelt, twisting around to grab the garment by one lacey sleeve.
“What—” Cas starts, only to quiet as my intentions become clear.
My finger presses roughly against the window button, warm air rushing madly in at us as it lowers.
With a triumphant shout, I push the gown quickly through the opening, watching as it catches in the air.
With a sound like tearing, the gown is pulled fully from the car—seeming to float for a moment before sailing towards the street.
I turn in my seat, feeling a delirious joy as the car behind us passes over it; its pristine fabric turning filthy in an instant.
“Feel better?” Cas laughs as I lower myself back into my seat.
“Much.”
“Good,” he says, now smiling broadly, “because, if you’re up for it, there’s something special I want to show you.”
I turn toward him, my own smile now matching his.
“Anything,” I answer, reaching across the seat to place my hand on his knee.
He looks pointedly down at it, his eyes sparkling when they rise again to meet my face.
I feel suddenly reborn under his gaze, chuckling joyfully as we travel deeper into the heart of our city.
Chapter 9
Cas
With a final tilt of the wheel, I pop a full 360 and we’re back in front of my building.
Ana grabs the side of the car, white-knuckled as we spin.
“You like that ‘Dukes of Hazzard’ spin way too much, Cas bear,” she says.
I let out a “yee-haw!” as I pump my fist in the air, then kill the engine and take her hand.
Together, we rush into the building and into the elevator, kissing passionately as we zip up to the top floor. The doors open, and we enter my loft, the sunlight dripping through the windows.
As I step in, I take her hand and bow to the floor.
“Welcome to my palace, cuore mio,” I say. She smiles beatifically and walks in.
We’re suddenly startled by a figure on the couch.
It’s Nico, and he’s groaning and making the “puke” gesture with his hand.
“Can you chill with the comments, Cas? You’re giving me diabetes with the sweetness,” he says, an air of disgust in his voice.
Ana laughs. “Hello, Nico. I see you haven’t changed a bit after all these years.”
Nico leaps up off the couch and kisses Ana’s hand exaggeratedly. “Ana” – mwah – “cuore mio” – mwah – “ze most bee-yotiful voman in ze vorld” – mwah – “what the hell do you see in this idiot that is my brother?”
I extend my right hand, my middle finger sticking straight in the air, and scoff. “Nico, why are you still here?”
Nico feigns embarrassment and flops back on the couch. “You left me in charge of the family business in your absence, Caspian. A king must sit on his throne
while he’s ruling his kingdom.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “Seriously, Nico? You’ve been eating all my food and sleeping in my bed, and, I’m sure, racking up all sorts of charges on my cable bill with your little sluts’n’butts movie rentals. That’s running the kingdom?”
Nico laughs like a hyena.
I snarl and point to the door. “Get out, Nico. Go back home. I’m back now.”
He stomps to the door, still laughing.
“I restocked your refrigerator, asshole. Now you can eat something. You’re welcome.” He turns back from the front door and sizes Ana up. “Meh. Looks like you’ve found something to eat anyway.”
Ana laughs hysterically as I grab a pillow off the couch and toss it at Nico.
“Get the fuck out!” I yell over his laughter and the slamming door.
As the pillow strikes the door and flops lazily to the ground, I turn again to look at Ana. It’s a sight I can never get enough of. I want her so badly.
My cock is harder than a railroad spike and is sticking straight up out of my pants, so I grab the pilfered pillow and hold it just below my waist, hoping Ana doesn’t notice.
“Well,” I say, walking next to her, “let me show you around.”
We walk slowly through the loft, taking the time to savor every inch of my bachelor pad, which now feels like a family home with her in it.
She smiles as she makes note of the Swarovski crystals in the chandelier, the imported pure-white Italian marble of the kitchen counters, the stainless-steel Viking appliances in the kitchen itself, the Lalique crystal glasses on the formal dining room table, and the handmade Amish cherry wood computer desk.
“Everything is just so lovely,” she says, taking care to admire things from a distance, respectfully refraining from touching anything.
Even though, at the end of the day, I don’t care if she touches everything or not. This house isn’t a home without her in it.
She peeks her head around the corner, past my regal California king-sized bed, into a smaller bedroom that I’ve converted into a walk-in closet for myself.
“You’re not really making the best use of this space,” Ana says, almost dreamily.
“I know,” I remark, “I didn’t know what to do with it, after…”
“After what?” she asks.
I reach slowly over to her, taking her hand in my own. “I have a confession to make, Ana. I bought this loft when I thought you and I were going to get married.”
She looks over at me, lovingly. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” I say, taking her hand and kissing it softly. “And this room right here? This huge ‘walk-in closet’? This was supposed to be our baby’s room.”
I lean my head into her stomach and kiss her again. I only realize she’s crying when I felt her tears hit the top of my head.
“You did all this, for me?” she asks, the tears in her voice evident.
“Yes, Ana baby,” I reply, trying to choke back the tears.
She moves her hands to her face and dries her eyes quickly.
“So,” she says as gaze at her up at her, “A baby, huh? What would we have named her?”
I laugh, pulling her closer, and pinch her butt. “Excuse me, but ‘her’? What makes you so sure we’d have a little girl?”
She laughs and pinches my butt in return. “Because I want one, silly. Little Poppy Lavender.”
I make a face of mock disgust. “Poppy Lavender? What is she, laundry soap? No. Not my little girl. Amber Valerian is her name.”
Ana returns the look of mock disgust and smacks me on the stomach. “That’s a porn star name! No! I’ll tell you what—if we have a boy, you can name him. If we have a girl, I’ll name her.”
I laugh and hoist her over my shoulder, smacking her lightly on the ass as I do. “Perfect! I’d love nothing more than to make a Caspian Andreas Jr. with you! That baby will have it all—his mama’s rich, and his daddy, of course, is good-looking!”
She squeals, laughing, then reaches down and pinches the bottom of my ass in return. “And what about his mama? She’s not good-looking?”
By now, we have reached the bedroom, and I toss her onto the bed and look down upon her.
She is so beautiful. And this time, I’m not even bothering to hide my erection.
I lean down and grind my erection up against her, and she bites her lower lip flushing with desire.
“No, she’s not beautiful. She’s the most gorgeous woman alive. She’s sweet, she’s kind, she’s sexy…and she’s mine,” I say, kissing her neck passionately.
Ana sighs and runs her fingers through the back of my hair. “Caspian…I’m not…”
I stop and look up at her. “You’re not what?”
I was hoping she wouldn’t say ‘I’m not a virgin,’ not because I necessarily cared about that sort of thing (although it would have been nice to have been her first), but because I was worried about if I would be able to perform to her satisfaction, too.
“I’m not the same woman I was all those years ago,” she said sadly. “I’ve been through so much. And this time—all this time without you, all this time that I thought you were dead…”
Her voice drifts off, and she seems to stare into space.
“But I’m not dead,” I finish, tilting her head towards mine and looking deeply into her eyes. “I’m alive—very much so. I’m here with you in what can and should be our home.”
She shimmies off the bed, then makes her way into the spare bedroom/walk-in closet. She looks around, then, with one finger, makes a “come here” motion.
I obey her, stripping down to my pants as I do so.
She follows suit and strips down to her matching bra and panties, glowing in the soft incandescent light of the bedroom, smiling and licking her lips as she sizes me up.
“Cas,” she says in a near-whisper. “I want you.”
Those were the words I’d been waiting to hear for three years.
I rush into her arms, pick her straight up, and kiss her passionately as she wraps her legs around my waist.
I feel her wetness on my pants as I push her up against the wall, exploring her mouth with my own.
“I want you even more,” I say, between kisses. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long, Ana baby—so long, cuore mio.”
Chapter 10
Ana
This is it.
This is all I’ve been waiting for, for what seems like forever—but was, in reality, only for three years. I never thought this day would come.
I thought he was dead, honestly. But he isn’t; he’s alive. He’s here with me in a bedroom that’s intended for the child he and I were supposed to have.
He’s pushing me up against the wall and is grinding up against me, whispering “cuore mio” and other things as he kisses me passionately and intently.
“I want you,” I whisper, and he responds by telling me he wants me, too.
I’m wet for him, and I want him inside of me. I’ve never done this before, but with his guidance, I know I can please him. I can make him happy.
I slightly push him away and finish undressing until I’m standing before him, naked and wet, licking my lips and ready for him.
He stares at me, barely able to contain himself when he sees my fully naked body.
“You’re a goddess,” he says, almost breathlessly.
“You’re too kind,” I say. “But you, you make me feel like a woman, Cas bear.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “And what about Yuri? How does he make you feel?”
I roll my eyes. “Caspian, please. He treats me like I’m little more than a blow-up doll, a toy to be used and abused. Literally.”
I sigh and recount the various stories of Yuri and what he’d been doing to me over the course of these past three years.
I tell Cas about the time Yuri came home late at night, drunk on cheap vodka, smelling like another woman’s perfume. He was so angry because his dinner was cold, and he took it out on my coll
arbone.
And then I tell him about the time Yuri had his friends over for a card game of questionable legality, and when I didn’t come with the drinks and snacks fast enough, he tore my clothes off of me and forced me to stand naked before all his friends, who laughed at me for being “lazy” and a “bad wife.”
I cap it off with telling Cas about the time Yuri came home drunk again and started making comments about how I “smelled” like rotten fish and how he only stopped when Daddy, somehow, came bursting through the door and demanded him go to bed and sleep it off.
As I tell each story, I observe Cas’ face and note that, while he is turning red, he manages to keep himself under control.
Finally, when I finish telling him the last story, he sighs, lifts me up, and kisses me lightly on my breasts.
“You’re none of those horrible things,” he says, still kissing me, his breath hot on my chest. “You’re my Ana baby. You’re amazing. You’ve always been amazing. And any man who doesn’t see how beautiful you are is either blind or stupid—or both. But then again, more for me.”
He puts me back down, and I note with some curiosity that his pants are still on.
I gesture towards the waistband. “Why are you still wearing these, Cas bear?”
He laughs loudly.
“Beats me,” he says. “Help me take these off.”
I do so and make note of the silky black boxers underneath his pants.
It’s here that I get a little clumsy, and it takes me a minute to work his boxers down his legs—in no small part because his long thick cock is forming a tall tent between his legs.
When I finally succeed in getting the silky boxers off Cas—noting how good they feel on my fingers—I step back to admire his naked body, unable to control the moan that spills from my lips at the sight of him.
He hoists me up on his waist again and fumbles around slightly to rub my pussy. With one hand, he separates my lips, and using his fingers, finds my clitoris and begins to lightly rub me. At one point, he dips his finger inside me and uses my wetness to lubricate while rubbing, causing me to get wetter.
Despite myself, I’m moaning loudly, begging him to take me.
Please, just take me here and take me now. I’m ready.
