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“I’m pretty new to this dating thing too,” Loren said, the words thick with emotion. “But part of being in a relationship involves loving a person through everything—the good and the bad. I want every part of you. And if it’s Darkslaying forever—”
“It won’t be forever.” The words were hoarse. “It won’t be like this forever, Loren. I promise you that.”
“Darien,” she pleaded. “It’s okay—”
“Listen, please. Sweetheart.” It was a question, one he waited for her to answer, so she did with a nod. “Since meeting you, I’ve realized how many years I’ve wasted, drifting in the dark. I had no purpose, no hope for the future, no joy. I wasn’t living, baby, I was existing, not really enjoying much of anything, and the things that I did enjoy, they were…wrong. Unfulfilling. And then you came along, and I could finally see the light again. My destination was—is you. Can you understand that? Loren?”
She nodded.
Darien’s thumbs brushed across the backs of her hands. “My destination has always been you.”
“Darien,” she whispered. Now, it was her turn to take a moment to find the right words. He waited with remarkable patience, just like he always did. “You don’t need to completely change your life to fit the future you think I should have—”
“I know, Loren,” he interrupted softly. “I know. I see that now, and I fucking love you for it. But this decision is as much for me as it is for you. Darkslaying will always be there, but you?” He stepped closer, so close that she could feel his body heat. “When I’m with you, I feel like I finally have a shot at being the man I always dreamed I could be. The one who doesn’t need to kill or hit things to find peace. This life of mine—it’s a crutch. It’s a coping mechanism, a means of survival, a way of getting by until something better comes along. You’re that something, Loren. You’re that something, and you’re finally here.”
Her vision blurred. “What about the others? You say you want to get out of slaying, but your family…”
“I’ll take care of them. I’ll always take care of them.” He raised both of her hands to his mouth and kissed the back of the left. “No one gets left behind.” He kissed that hand one more time before letting go, reaching up to cup her face.
And then he kissed her on the lips—the softest kiss he’d ever left on her mouth, the most careful. As if he were afraid to push her, to cross any boundaries that might cause her to withdraw into herself.
“Darien.” His name was uttered on a shaky breath.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
She slid a hand up the side of his neck, tracing the strong column of his throat with her thumb, and then around to the back of his head, his soft hair slipping between her fingers. “I need to be closer to you. Please.”
Fisting his hair, she pulled him down, closing her mouth over his.
They undressed each other, slowly, tenderly. As if it was their first time. Darien never stopped kissing her. She clung to him, her anchor in the storm of her life.
Gently, he led her over to the bed and lay her back on the covers, pulling a pillow down to cradle her head. He climbed onto the mattress, sheets rustling, and hovered over her.
There were tears at the corners of her eyes; she hadn’t realized when they’d got there. “There’s so much more I want to say,” she whispered.
He silenced her with a hand to her mouth. He bent over her, a strand of his hair grazing her cheek as he kissed a tear from the corner of her eye. “We have forever.” He straightened, bending her legs to frame his hips. He didn’t take his eyes off her once as he declared, “You and me, forever.” He positioned himself at her entrance. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He pushed himself inside her. A couple inches at first, and then he pulled back out again and started anew, like always.
She was tense. After everything that had happened, it was hard to relax. Fear stole through her, locking up her muscles.
“You can relax now, sweetheart,” Darien whispered, thumb stroking her cheek. “You’re with me.” He retreated a little before easing back in, still taking it slow. “You’re with me, and I’ve got you.”
His words reassured her. She felt herself relax, muscles melting.
Darien pulled up the quilt so their lower halves were covered, creating a place of security for her, she realized. The gesture nearly made her cry.
Another careful push, and he was buried in her to the hilt. She rotated her hips, savoring how full she felt with him inside her. Being like this with Darien made her feel connected to him in a way she couldn’t explain, not even to herself. She imagined this was what it felt like to have a soulmate; she was certain this man had been made for her.
“I thought you said you didn’t make love,” she said quietly. She tried to say it like it was a joke, referring to that memorable night in the dining room with him, but it came out as pained as she felt.
“I make love to you,” he said, the words heartbreakingly gentle. “You are the exception to every one of my rules.”
Darien did make love to her, slowly and thoroughly. With him on top of her, that secret she’d been forced to keep exposed at last, she felt safer than ever, like they really could tackle anything, as long as they had each other. He kept his thrusting slow. Deep. He stayed close the whole time, his chest touching hers, the pendants on his chains whispering across her skin. One inked hand was cupping the top of her head, thumb tracing a comforting pattern across her forehead, the other gripping her waist.
He bent to kiss her, the gesture as gentle as his movements.
