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After dinner, Lino let me walk to the living room on my own—watching every step like I might step on a landmine. If I hadn't been so stressed about the change in him, I might have found it comical. But just when I reached the couch, when I was ready to plop onto my spot and snuggle up with him, Lino stopped me with a gentle but insistent hand at my waist. I turned to find him staring down at me, something meaningful in his gaze.
Finally giving me something, he let out a massive sigh. "What's wrong?" I asked.
His hand reached up, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment? And now I can't find the fucking words, no matter how many times I practiced this."
My lip trembled so hard that I bit it. "I don't understand."
"You're divorced, finally," he said.
"So you said."
"You need more time to heal, but you're well on your way," he added.
"You are kind of freaking me out," I laughed.
"You aren't helping." He grinned at me, shaking his head. "I'll be patient. I can let you come around to the idea over time, so long as we're on the same page about where we're headed."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I giggled, tipping my face down to bury it in his chest as my body shook with uncomfortable laughter.
That hand of his snagged my chin, lifting until my eyes found his again. With another breath, he whispered, "Fuck it."
And then his head descended, his lips brushing against mine in a whisper of a kiss. Barely a touch, barely anything. And yet my body hummed to life, my lungs filling with air for what felt like the first time ever.
Like Lino alone could breathe life into me. I pulled back with a gasp, biting my bottom lip as it tingled. His eyes smoldered as he stared down at me, the arm wrapped around my waist refusing to release me. "Little Dove," he whispered.
"Stop. We can't do this," I hissed back, shoving against his chest in a moment of panic. He couldn't cross that line, couldn't lump me in with the others who didn't have him.
I had to have him in the only capacity I could keep him, because the thought of going through my life without him at all was too painful to consider.
"We can, and we are," he announced, curling his hand around to the back of my head. Grabbing a fistful of my hair in his fist, he tipped my head back and claimed my mouth again. The second kiss was harder, more forceful. As his torso pressed into mine, the masculine, clean scent of him filled my lungs. He tilted my head, putting me exactly where he wanted me as more pressure applied to my lips, near the point of bruising.
Gone was my best friend who thought I was amusing. He'd been replaced by a conqueror. He didn't relent, didn't stop. Not until long after I submitted and opened my mouth to his.
The first stroke of his tongue against my lip made my knees tremble, and when he plundered on to drink from me like a starving man, I felt like I might collapse.
No matter my feelings, this was Lino. My friend for as long as I could remember. My rock.
My head swam with the implications of what that kiss would mean until he erased all thought but the way he felt against me as he lifted me off the ground and carted me to the couch. That hand never left my hair, never relented, but I didn't even mind the bite of tenderness that came from my abused neck.
I couldn't mind anything when Lino's lips were on mine.
When he sat down, my legs straddling his hips, I finally tore my mouth from his. I whimpered, touching my forehead to his as I stared down at him in confusion. "Why?" I asked. This was a bad idea. It could only end in disaster, and even though I tried to remind myself of all the consequences this would have, nothing could permeate the haze he’d created in me.
His answer was nothing but a breath that I felt against my over-sensitized lips. "Because you're mine."
I shoved him away again, shaking my head to clear the fog. “This isn’t happening. I can’t be yours.”
“You’ll always be mine, Little Dove,” he murmured, and then he set out to show me, tugging me down to his lips more gently, but taking, nonetheless. I didn't fight the third kiss, just gave him everything he wanted. He smiled against my lips in approval, sliding his tongue against mine in a slow glide that turned me into a puddle in his lap. When he'd finally had his fill, he tucked his face into my neck and let my thoughts dance around inside my head.
He didn't bother to try to talk me through what was happening, but I could feel his smug satisfaction with every trace of his fingers up and down my spine. He soothed me without words but didn't seem interested in offering verbal comfort.
He'd said his piece, and for a man like Lino it was as simple as his declaration implied.
I was his.
???
I felt like I walked, okay sat, around, electrocuted like a live-wire after Lino's life-altering declaration the day before. Every part of my body tingled with the need that I felt building inside me, that it had been far too long since I'd gotten any kind of real sex just wasn't helping.
