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He strokes over the apple of my cheek, leveling me with nothing but sincerity. “Even now, when you know all you’d have to do is…beg me not to do this, you still won’t.”
And there it is. The reason for my guilt.
It seems I can save him by uttering a single word, but what will I destroy by doing so?
Placing my hand over his, I squeeze it gently. It’s the first time I’ve touched him openly. Something sparks behind his steel blue eyes, something I haven’t seen. Hope. He is hopeful I have the magical potion to make all of this go away.
But I don’t. I never did.
Stepping forward, I close the distance between us. “When you had me kidnapped, gagged, and held captive against my will, I never had a choice. But you do. I did what I had to, to survive because I was forced to. My choices were taken away from me because of you. So if you think I am going to beg you not to do this, then you’ll be sorely disappointed. Yet again. Goodbye, Aleksei.”
Before he has a chance to reply, I press my lips to his and seal this finale with a kiss—a goodbye kiss because this is what it is. There is no tomorrow for Alek, but there is for me. I let go of my guilt and surrender to the light because I fucking deserve it.
After everything I’ve endured, I deserve my happily ever after.
There is no affection, no fireworks; it’s simply a gesture to bid farewell to who I was and embrace who I will become. And Alek finally knows this because regardless of everything, I’ve won. And he has no one to blame but himself.
With nothing but pride, I pull away, staring my kidnapper in the eye for the final time. There are no encores this time. With that and my luggage in tow, I push past him, ignoring a surprised Zoey as she witnessed it all, and focus on my future waiting for me in that barn.
The harsh weather is no deterrent for me as I leave my suitcase by the front door and charge outside into the falling snow. Tipping my face to the heavens, I smile and laugh like a madwoman because I was once a captive, but now, I’m free. Just like Pepsi, I’ve found my wings, and it’s time to fly.
Without a moment to waste, I run toward the barn, finally unafraid of what tomorrow holds. The blaring wind almost rips the door from the hinges, but once inside, I close it softly because what I see warms every part of me from head to toe.
Saint sleeps soundly by the crackling fire.
The fur throw sits low on his waist, the warm amber from the flames setting his skin alight. The raised scars scattered across his broad chest are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen as they represent his strength. No matter what tried to beat him, he won.
I am the luckiest woman alive to have this man’s affection, and I promise here, now, that I will do everything in my power to make him happy for the rest of my life. And it seems the rest of my life starts now because when a small whimper escapes Saint, I run to his aid.
“No,” he cries, his face contorting in pain. “Don’t.”
“Shh,” I coo, dropping to my knees and brushing the sweaty hair from his brow.
The moment I touch him, he bolts upright, cupping my throat. I allow him to manhandle me as I raise my hands in surrender. “It’s me. Shh, it’s me.”
His eyes are consumed by a bottomless black while his chest rises and falls rapidly. He looks ready to kill, but I don’t cower. I simply allow him to come back to me when he’s ready. His grip on my throat tightens as he gauges his surroundings.
The pain shoots straight through me, resulting in an ache between my legs. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
His breathing begins to slow, and piece by piece, he returns to the now. “A?????”
When I nod slowly, he instantly removes his hand, hissing in anger when he realizes what he did. He opens his mouth, ready to apologize, but I don’t want his apologies. I want something else.
I swoop forward, smashing our lips together, humming when I taste him—warm and sweet.
He’s taken aback by my aggression, but it doesn’t take long for him to catch up to speed. He drags me onto his lap, yanking at the buttons on my jacket before he almost shreds it in half as he tears it off my shoulders. My pajama top is next to go as we only separate long enough to toss it across the barn before we’re back to kissing madly.
He cups my breasts, growling when I cry out as he tugs on my nipple. I arch my back, an invitation he accepts when he lowers his head and takes my right breast into his mouth. He suckles deeply, biting sharply when I thread my fingers through his long, wild hair and pull.
We are animated, crazed, pawing at one another because the desperation to be one consumes every action. I find him hot, hard, and ready beneath the throw when I grip his shaft. He hisses into my mouth, pumping into my hand as I begin to stroke him.
“Naked. Now,” he orders, fumbling with the drawstring on my bottoms. Just as I am about to pull off my boots, he pushes me onto my back.
Leaning up on my elbows, I watch in fascination as he takes one boot in his hand and slowly slides it off. Then he does the same with the other boot. His eyes rival the crackling fire when he reaches forward and strips me bare. He tosses my pajama bottoms to the side before leaning back on his heels.
My attention is instantly riveted to the straining hard-on protruding from him, and when he takes my ankle and draws my foot toward his lips, I almost want to skip the foreplay and feel him imbedded deep within me. However, when he bites over the arch of my foot, I soon enjoy the feeling of being consumed, quite literally, from head to toe.
The coarseness of his beard combined with the softness of his lips is an unexpected headrush of endorphins, and I cry out, gripping the fur throw beneath me. On the yacht, he brushed over my anklet, and although it is long gone, lost to the sea, I can’t help but compare that moment to now.
