by Dee Palmer
The whole room is silent as we stand facing each other in this surreal stand-off in a kinky game of tug-of-war. I don’t need this shit. I’m about to drop my end of the whip when Jason pulls his mask off. Simultaneously, he gives a sharp tug, pulling me toward him. Shocked and caught off-guard with the move, I fall forward and he closes the gap, and I crash against his body. He winces when I slap the open cuts on his chest. He pulls the mask from my face, the tears are already streaming but the dam bursts when I see the devastation in his emotion-filled eyes, the hurt and anguish ingrained in every tired line on his face. He roughly grabs my hair and pulls my face to his. His lips are so very close and his breath sweet enough to taste.
“Enough.” He growls and crashes his mouth to mine.
God, she tastes so fucking sweet on my lips. I can’t get enough, my tongue dives and claims and devours. The salty wetness from her tears mixes with the passion that I unleashed with this kiss. So much tortured desire explodes between us it’s shocking, breath-stealing and heartwarming all at once. She’s mine, still.
I break the kiss; it’s the last thing I want to do, but we both need to breathe. My chest is heaving, and by the look on her face, she is struggling just as much as I am to hold it together. She blinks away more tears and shakes her head. My hand that’s threaded in her hair grips tighter. I don’t want to hear it. Her body straightens and she tries to step away. I hold her firm against my body. The pressure against the cuts she made across my chest makes them hurt like a motherfucker. Still, I am not letting her go.
“You left me.” The words tumble silent and broken from her lips, and they fucking kill me.
“Not here,” I state with as much of a level tone as I can muster. I won’t do this with a fucking audience. They have had their show, now I need privacy.
“No! You left me at the fucking altar, Jason, and this is hardly my choice, is it?” she snarls, and I straighten my shoulders and pull to my full height at the anger and accusation in her voice. I counter her venom with calm.
“Not here.” I insist and quickly drop and scoop her over my shoulder before she gets any stupid idea about running. I slap her arse a little harder than necessary to punctuate my resolution. This is not happening here, and I turn to leave. The room has been deathly silent, waiting for what, I’m not sure. This show is officially over. Gabriel steps into my path, his mask in place, but I can see the scowl behind the cut-away eye holes.
“Back the fuck off, Gabriel. I will kick your bollocks into next week if you try and stop me and you didn’t go to all this trouble to spend the night of the Gathering in hospital.” My tone is deadly serious. He takes a moment and steps aside. Good. I don’t doubt for a moment he cares for Sam, but above everything, Gabriel is all about self-interest. I stride to the main doors and swipe a cloak from one of the attending Domino assistants, leaving her naked and a little stunned. I throw the cloak over my shoulder, probably covering Sam’s head and certainly covering her glorious backside. I’m so done with anyone else seeing any part of what’s mine.
This isn’t the entrance where the gondolier dropped me off. This one leads directly onto the street and the back of Saint Marco square.
The solid basilica door takes some effort to open, and once I’m outside, I feel I can draw my first safe breath. I have her. She may be wiggling like a sexy ass worm on my shoulder but I don’t care. I have her. I could cry I’m so damn happy, but the heavens are doing an admirable job of expressing my sentiment. The rain is falling down in sheets, not cold, and we are instantly drenched.
“Put me down!” she screams, her shrill voice bouncing off the walls in an eerily distorted echo.
“No.”
She tenses at my response and is no doubt spitting feathers at my calm delivery. The rain is torrential, and I continue to power us through the deserted street, pausing when I hit the square. The whole area is under water; it’s not deep, but definitely flooded. The lights from the buildings are reflected in the water, the splatters of rain creating bursts of light on the ground and illuminating the square with artificial brightness this late at night.
“You’re hurting my belly.”
I freeze. I curse myself and just once hope she’s lying. Her knowing grin makes me realise she was, as I ease her carefully down my body. Still, I’m enjoying the familiar feel of her curves against my naked chest. She takes the sting away. I cup her face and hold her gaze.
“Sorry, beautiful. Are you okay?” I know she is, but I ask all the same. I search her face for any sign of pain. Her dark eyes sparkle and shine, though her lips are pursed, and she flashes a scowl that, on any other occasion, would make me step back. Her knee shoots up and crunches hard against my semi-hard cock and painfully unprotected balls.
“No, I’m not fucking okay!” she snaps and steps around my crumpled body. I hear the splash of water as she wades out from the protective overhang of the buildings and into the ankle deep water covering the open square. I grab a few stuttered breaths and also my nuts. A little too late, yet, I just need to check they are still there. Damn, she’s got bony knees. I scramble to my feet and call after her.
“Sam, for fuck sake, you’re getting soaked!” She spins at my words, and her borrowed cape swooshes out in a wide circle, spraying the excess water in an arc. Her eyes narrow, and she stares at me, tugs the cloak free, and drops it into the water at her feet. Defiant and gloriously sexy, she just stands there with her hands on her hips. Her skin shines with the water drenching it, glossy and slick. Her hair is sticking to her face, the only other sign that she’s completely soaked. Her bodice, stockings and panties look no different than they did in the great hall. God, she looks amazing. Even with an injury, my cock twitches, causing me to wince.
“I’m broken, Jason. You think I give a shit about a bit of rain?” He voice catches, and for all her defiance, she looks so vulnerable. It’s cutting me to the core.
“Baby please, you’re pregnant. Don’t do this.” I take some careful steps toward her.
“Low fucking blow, Jason. I know I’m pregnant.”
Even in the rain I can pick out the rivers of tears from the water falling from the sky soaking her face.
“With my child, Sam.” My voice softens and I open my arms, closing the distance. I’m cautious; she’s just as likely to bolt or level another lick to my nuts if I get too close.
“You don’t know that.” She shakes her head, drawing in deep breaths and letting out heartrending sobs that are fucking killing me.
“I don’t care,” I state emphatically.
She barks out a bitter flat laugh. “Pity you didn’t think of that before our wedding day, hmm?” Her hands fly to her hips, although it looks more like she is attempting to hold herself together rather than display attitude and strength.
“I did. I wasn’t the only one who left that day, Sam, and I had a really fucking good excuse.” If she would just hold my gaze, she would see the truth.
“I doubt that.”
“That’s your prerogative, but I can prove it to you.” She meets my eyes for a second, only it’s too quick for her to see the sincerity. Even if she can hear it, she doesn’t trust herself to look in my eyes. She knows I’m not lying.
“Go on then.” She starts to sway a little.
Her resolve is fraying. I can see her fists are so tight, her knuckles are white; she’s fighting every step of the way. She’s so fucking strong yet fragile. It’s fucking torture not taking her in my arms right now.
“Not now, not here.” I step closer, and she shakes her head but doesn’t move. My voice is deep and husky, determined. “It’s been too long, Sam. I need to show you what you mean to me and fuck, you need to remember.”
“Jason, I…” She falters and her eyes finally meet mine.
“Then, and only then, I will tell you everything.” She is trembling, and her eyes glaze over, but she is nodding before I finish asking the only question that matters. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she
whispers.
“Good. Then, Sam, we’ve got this.” I scoop her into my arms just as her legs buckle. Her head rests against my chest, and she breaths deeply, relaxing into my hold. For the first time in a really fucking long time I feel whole.
The concierge raises a brow but utters not a word. Sam is nestled in my arms as I walk through the hotel lobby, half naked and leaving a trail of water in our wake. I kick the door to my en suite open and walk straight into the shower. She’s shivering and my skin is covered with goosebumps, we both need some heat to warm us, some water to wash away the doubt, and some intimate contact to close the fucking distance. I pull the lever, turn the dial to hot and hold us both under the spray until she stops shivering. It takes a while, and I take that time to kiss her hair and repeat a mantra I have said a million times since our wedding day. I’m so fucking sorry.
I ease her to her feet and reverently unclip every hook on her bodice. I can feel her eyes on me as I peel her panties down her legs, her stockings too. I carefully unlace her ankle books and pull everything off before I stand. Her gorgeous body is a sight to make me weep but there have been enough tears from both of us for a fucking lifetime. I raise my head and meet her gaze. Searing heat collides with my own white hot desire.
“Mine.” I exhale the word and watch her eyelids close. Her lips pull into an involuntary smile, and no matter the reservations she is no doubt wrestling with in her head, she takes obvious comfort in my declaration. It’s all I need.
My lips meet hers, soft and tender, I want to taste every inch of her, starting right here. My tongue sweeps in and she lets out a sigh that I feel in my heart. It fucking beats with the power of that little sound, loud and fucking proud. I hold her face and tip her this way and that as I lavish kiss after kiss all over her neck and her collarbone before I turn her and kiss all along her shoulders, up her neck at the back and suck hard just below her ear. “Always mine,” I breathe, and despite the heat and steam, she shudders. I work my way down her back and smile against her skin as her hips tilt and she pushes her arse up and toward me.
“I’m getting there, beautiful. Just savouring the moment.” I nip playfully at the round flesh in my hands.
“What moment?” she moans.
“Our moment.” I drop to my knees, my hands flat between her thighs, and I pull them apart, wide. I press my face right against her core and drag my tongue as far as I can, reaching her entrance and dipping just inside. Fucking heaven. I fist the muscles of her arse and massage her flesh as I work my tongue around her slick sweetness. My cock is in agony, throbbing and aching for release from its confined space. My balls are still sore, but have almost forgiven her for the knee action earlier and are keen to get reacquainted in a much more mutually pleasing way. I thread one hand through and up, cupping her at her apex before sliding my thumb back and over her pulsing nub. She jolts at my touch, then pushes back against my mouth. Her thighs start to quiver, and I can hear her desperate little pants. I slide two fingers inside and press just where she needs me. She explodes on my tongue and sinks almost completely back onto me, my hand on her cheek, my face wedged against her arse cheeks, and my fingers inside her are the only things keeping her upright. I lap her softness until her climax subsides and feel her begin to support her body weight once more. She twists out of my hold and kneels on the floor, her legs between mine.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Her bottom lip wobbles with her soft words, and I rush to cover the vulnerable movement, pressing my mouth to hers. I only relinquish the kiss when I feel her lips curl in a tentative smile.
“I missed you more,” I respond and her eyes widen.
“Jason, you don’t want—” She tries to argue, but I won’t let her finish.
“Yes,” I snap, and I can feel my jaw pop with tension, so I let out a controlled breath. “I have what I want, all of what I want, right here.” I place my hand deliberately on her tummy, which feels only slightly rounder.
“Really?” Her uncertainty slays me. I fucking hate myself for that. I did that, though I will make this right.
“Yes.” I’m resolute and unwavering, and hold her gaze until I see her finally believe each word. Her eyes flood with tears that are quickly washed away with the downpour from the shower. “Mine, Sam. Both of you are mine, understand?” I hold her chin. Her lashes are heavy with tears and her eyes are boring right through me.
“I-I…” she stutters, and I shake my head.
“Do I look in any doubt to you?”
“No, but—” Her fight is gone, yet she’s still reluctant to believe me, and I honestly don’t blame her, but she will.
“No buts ever. I will explain absolutely everything. Just know this as fact: I love you. You are my life. Our baby is our future, and you will be my wife. Understand?”
“Yes.” She flashes a genuine smile, and it’s like a burst of sunshine in this marble cubicle, bright and blinding, illuminating the gloom.
“Good. Now come and ride me like you own me, because Sam, you do own me, heart and fucking soul.” The words tumble from my lips, feral and demanding.
“Yes, Sir.”
Her whole body shivers. She shimmies up and widens her legs hovering above my now closed thighs. I pull at the zip and release my straining erection, hard and fit to burst. I squeeze the base to ease some of the ache. I know I’m seeping with want. I let out a tortured hiss when she covers my entire length with her scorching, sweet heat. I could die a happy man now because nothing feels as good as this—my own private Nirvana. She drops her forehead to mine, and I take her in. Her eyes search mine, and I see such raw, undiluted love there, I know I’m in heaven.
She starts to move, and I place my hands on her hips and let her take this. Her lips seek mine, her tongue utterly desperate as it pushes into my mouth and swirls and duels with mine. She fists my hair, her grip tight as she takes full control. Bouncing and grinding with furious energy, she pounds onto my rock-hard cock, taking everything she needs. It’s barely a few minutes, and I can feel her greedy muscles start to ripple and squeeze me for all they’re worth.
“Wait for me, baby.” I grind out through my clenched jaw.
“No.”
She grins, wicked and wanton, and I respond with a barking, dirty laugh. I guess I had that coming. She throws her head back, and my mouth homes in on her soft breasts and perky pink nipples. I drag my tongue over one nub then clamp my mouth around the stiff peak. She squeals when my teeth graze the tip, only she doesn’t break her rhythm. She’s falling and I will be damned if I don’t chase that climax with her. I pull her hips a little harder with each of her thrusts, getting myself just a little bit deeper and tilting my own hips to make sure I’m right with her. She screams my name like it’s a curse—or perhaps a prayer. Either way, I’m gone with that cry. My balls tighten, and when her muscles clamp and seize around my shaft, a lightning bolt of pleasure shoots from the base of my spine, through me, and into her core.
My hands shift from her hips to her shoulders, and I secure her to me, pulling her down and holding her tight, breathless, sated, and now limp in my arms.
My body envelopes her, our skin slick and fused together with not a millimetre of distance between us. It’s fucking perfect. We remain entwined, letting our synchronised ragged breathing calm and it’s only when I feel the first shudder of a chill ripple through her body that I make to move us from the shower.
I dry her body and she dries mine. She takes so much care over the cuts, tender and reverent. She places kisses next to the torn tissue before carefully covering each mark with cream, and where one slice of skin has continued to seep, she secures a small bandage.
“I’m not sorry for these,” she whispers against my skin when she’s done. I stare down at her as she looks up, a small smile playing on her swollen pink lips. Her second genuine smile and it dazzles.
“Neither am I.” I scoop her once more into my arms and carry her to the bed. Sliding in next to her, she settles her head on my chest, h
er slim arm and warm long leg entwines around my body. She holds me to her, until there is no space between us. We are one. Perfect.
I’m shell-shocked, and not because of the monumental orgasm Jason demanded from my exhausted body after an entire night of the same, the last of which was only an hour ago. But because he has just explained the complete and utter fuck-up that was my wedding day from his perspective.
“You’re an idiot,” I declare when he finally pauses after telling me about the roadside rescue.
“I tried to call.” One arm is wrapped around my back, holding me tight to his side while the other hand is tracing light patterns on my arms, which are draped across his stomach.
I scoff, incredulous, and flick his nipple to highlight his stupidity. “Oh yes, that’s why you’re an idiot, because you stopped to help a stranded mother and her children. All of this could’ve been avoided if you’d been upfront with me, Jason. If you had just told me what was going on.” My head rests on his chest, and I’m enjoying the rise and fall with his deep, hypnotic breathing all while he told me everything that had happened right up to the morning of the wedding. I push myself up to a sitting position and cross my legs, pulling the loose sheet to cover myself. I don’t want to distract him. We have so much to get through, now we’ve finally stopping fucking, that is. Following the nipple flick, I also administer a sharp slap to his left pectoral, as a mix of pure frustration and love courses through me. My nose tingles with ever present tears and the very real knowledge that, however well intended, those good intentions nearly ended us.
He grabs my hand and lifts the fingertips to his mouth, kissing each one. There is not a millimetre of my skin he hasn’t lavished with kisses, not a single part of me that hasn’t been worshiped, owned, and reclaimed. I know my hormones are wreaking havoc with my emotional state, tears one minute and unbelievable joy the next, but I don’t try to hide the enormous smile pulling at my mouth when I recall that there is also not a spec of his body to which I haven’t returned the favour. “You should’ve told me about the threats, Jason.” He lowers my hand from his lips and lets out such a sad sigh I almost don’t want to talk about this. It’s so fucking painful for both of us, when we both realise how close we came to… I pinch my eyes shut to stop that thought. When I open them and look at Jason, his lids are tightly closed, and I know his mind has just travelled the same unbearably heartbreaking path.
