“You don't need to apologize for anything, my pretty Firecracker. Feeling that doesn't make you any less brave.” The fact that she is comfortable enough with me to show that vulnerability, to not feel the need to put on an unbothered facade, will never get old with me. It’s a goddamn privilege. She nods into my chest, then pulls away to peer up at me through her thick lashes. “I have a little surprise for you after dinner, though,” she says with a sly grin, her face becoming more animated. The golden flecks of her eyes are a little brighter than they were a moment ago.
“What kind of surprise? I should be the one doting on you right now, remember?”
“It's more that I'm making good on a promise I made,” she replies, that sly grin growing, and I'm wracking my brain for any promise she hasn't kept yet. She obviously sees my wheels turning and chuckles.
“Come on, let's go eat and you'll see afterward.”
The Italian place, I Fratelli Mariani, is all Tuscan charm. It's beautifully decorated with lots of stonework, rustic beams along the ceiling, and a huge wood burning oven for pizza. Soft Italian arias drift through the speakers. The menu is incredible, with the eggplant parmigiana standing out to split for an appetizer. We were drooling over it when we did our research on where to eat. Then Lyra gets excited that one of their specials today is Sartu di Riso for the main course.
“My Nonna made this for special occasions. It's like a savory bundt cake. The cake pan is lined with butter and breadcrumbs, then a thick layer of rice for the crust. It'sfilled with meatballs, mozzarella, and sauce before the bottom is closed up with more rice. It's incredible. Tonight feels like the right occasion to indulge.”
We both order it, and the whole meal truly is heaven. I've always loved eggplant parm, and this version is layered perfection with perfectly tender eggplant. The Sartu di Riso is rustic and fancy at the same time, with so much texture and flavor. For dessert, their chocolate chambord cannoli is absolutely to die for. The shells are made fresh daily, and filled to order with the mascarpone and chocolate chip filling. The chambord beautifully deepens the flavor of the chocolate in the shells.
I remember what she said about making good on a promise as we walk back into our hotel room. When I see her go to her bag and slide out what look like tiny cymbals, it hits me. The naked belly dance she promised if I was extra good. So much has happened in the months since she said that, it didn't even register in my brain. It sure is registering in every part of my body now, though. I'm instantly hardening. She turns to me with such a heated gaze that I swallow and clench my fists to keep from pouncing on her.
“I don't think guys get any more extra good than you, Taran. A promise is a promise, and it's one I'm really happy to keep.”
She pulls out her phone and taps a few times, until a thrumming drum beat starts coming through the speaker. A beautiful melody layers in next over the steady drum, and she starts to move. Her hips are gently swaying as she takes off her sweater, then her bra. They keep moving as she shimmies out of her shoes, socks, pants, and underwear. There may or may not be drool coming out of my mouth as she picks up the finger cymbals. She's bare to me now, and I can see every ripple of her thigh muscles, every fraction ofmovement in her hips, every contraction of her abs. She turns at a few points to give me the most incredible view of her delicious, juicy ass working. Her arms move in seamless tandem with her feet and hips, all while her hands work the little finger cymbals in perfect rhythm. It's the most sensual experience of my life, watching her move like this. She gets closer, and I can see the barest mist of sweat forming in between her breasts, and on her belly. I want to lick it all off.
The part of my brain that is having any sort of functioning thought beyond Lyra's body registers more of the depth behind this. I know this woman inside and out now. This is almost as much for her as it is for me. This is her wanting to feel sexy, strong, and powerful before tomorrow, and there is no question that she is. I'm slowly dying, but I want her to dance as much as she wants before I throw her on the bed. My cock is getting so uncomfortably hard that I at least have to fist it and give it a few tugs. She sees it and smirks, her eyes dancing just as much as her body.
“Need a little help there, big guy?” she coos.
“If you're done dancing, I'm about to throw you on this bed, Firecracker.”
Her eyes flare, and she sways the rest of the way toward me to start kissing me. Then she mumbles right onto my lips as her arms wind around my neck. The music is still providing a slow and gorgeous soundtrack.
“Don't be delicate with me tonight. Not tonight. I need to feel like I'm strong and unbreakable, not precious, ok?”
“You know I will always give you whatever you need,” I tell her, before I thread my fingers through her hair to tilt her head and deepen the kiss. I feel a growing panic building up that starts to fuel my desperation. What ifsomething happens to her on the operating table tomorrow? What if this is our last night together? How would I ever recover from that? All of my fears about losing the love of my life come roaring through me. The last thing she needs is to see my panic, so I tamp it down and funnel it into kissing the ever loving hell out of her. My mouth starts to graze her jaw, nip her neck, one of my hands dropping from her head to rake down her front and squeeze her breast. Her breath hitches as I swipe my thumb over her peaked nipple. I've learned that's one of her most sensitive spots. I pull away to quickly shuck my own clothes. Then I maneuver her toward the bed and lie down on it, pulling her on with me.
“I want you to sit on my face, and then I want you to ride my cock, you hear me? You take everything you need from me, sweetheart. This is your show because you are the strongest, bravest woman I know.”
A thousand emotions cross her expressive face at that, and she looks like she wants to say something, but she only nods. There aren’t any words needed with the emotions radiating from her so clearly. She prowls up my body until she straddles my face and holds onto the headboard. Then I'm tasting pure nirvana once she lowers herself. I alternate between strong licks up her center and suckling on her clit, while she gorgeously and shamelessly rides my face. It's not long before she's completely shaking and biting her fist in order to not scream down the whole hotel. I lap up and savor every drop until she comes down from it. She collapses on me for a minute, her face nuzzling into my neck.
“You're so beautiful when you come, Lyra, and you taste even better,” I murmur in her ear. The praise makes her melt a little more into me. She kisses my neck and chest asshe gets up, before she scoots down to line herself up with my rock hard erection.
“Not done coming yet,” she breathes as she drops down on me, both of us groaning as I fill her up. She sets a steady pace, and I match it as I buck up into her to make it as deep as possible. Her hands rake down my chest and abs, causing my muscles to clench and everything to start pulling tight. I'm not going until she does though, so I start playing with her swollen clit just the way I know she likes. My other hand kneads her perfect, pert ass. Finally, I feel her start to spasm around me, and not a moment too soon. We come together, swallowing each other’s moans with an intense kiss when I bring her down to me. Nothing in my life has ever felt as good as she does. I hold her to me for what could be minutes, or hours, it's anyone's guess. Finally we break apart to clean ourselves up.
“Want to go to sleep now? I know we have to be there early in the morning,” I ask her.
“Not sure if I'll be able to sleep much, but we should try. Hopefully the two amazing orgasms will help,” she says wryly, giving me a quick kiss. We get into bed once we're clean and I tuck her right into my side.
“Thank you, Taran," she whispers into my chest. "Thank you for never making me feel like I'm a burden, or someone who can't handle things, or weak. Tonight you made me simply feel like a desired, sexy woman, in spite of what’s going down tomorrow.”
“There will never be a time I don't desire you, Lyra, and you are not a burden or weak. You handle everything life throws at you, and you'll do the same tomorrow. I'll be here to make sure of it and support you, got it?” I say, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her jaw, and finally her lips. She sighs into me, and I tug her tighter to my side. I don't think I lether go the entire night, though her sleep is fitful. Anytime she stirs, my eyes pop open, worried she might need something. She eventually drifts back to sleep each time once I smooth her hair or rub down her arms. I just keep holding onto her, praying to anyone who might listen that tomorrow goes well. I can’t lose her.
Chapter 28
Lyra
My eyes and throat are bone dry and coarse feeling when I wake up in Taran's arms. It was not a restful sleep at all. I'm trying to not let my anxiety get to me, and I also don't want to make Taran more worried than he already is. I know his fears about losing me the way his mom lost his dad are weighing heavily on him. We quickly get ourselves washed up and dressed before he takes me to the hospital, holding my hand the entire way. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, painting the day in soft golds and oranges.
“Everything is going to go well, and you're going to be just fine, my pretty Firecracker.”
He says it like a mantra, over and over again, to me, to himself, to anyone who may be listening. His thumb keeps brushing over my knuckles in a soothing gesture, and my chest aches. When I think about it, I have it the easiest today. I'll be out cold for eleven hours. It's Taran who is going to be waiting for that long, hoping for whatever news the doctors can give along the way. It's the doctors and nurses who will be on their feet for so long.Dr. Oren has an assistant to help relieve him, Dr. Barnick, along with a team of three nurses. There will also be an anesthesiologist on hand at all times to make sure I don't wake up. It helps me to have that visualization of everyone who will be in the operating room with me beforehand, so I'm glad Dr. Oren went over it with me.
We do our intake at the hospital, and I'm taken back with Taran to a prep room after not too long of a wait. I'm instructed to change into my hospital gown and put the hairnet on my head. My last minute vital signs are taken and they look fine. My heart rate is a little higher than usual, but not in the range where it's a concern. It's to be expected, the nurse says, considering what's about to happen. It's not too long before they say it's time to get me wheeled to the OR. Taran squeezes my hand once, twice. The tiniest whimper escapes me as he sees me off. A pang of fear slices through me that I might not see him again. I want to take the image of his warm, loving face with me in case something happens, so I catalog his every feature.
