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“Fuck.” I rooted myself as deep as she could take me, and spasms rocked my body as I unloaded inside her.

I stayed there for a while, our eyes locked on each other as our breaths returned to normal. When I pulled my cock out of her and tucked it away, I immediately felt the loss of her warmth. I knew she would be tired and ready to go home. I was exhausted too, but there was one more thing that nagged at me, and I couldn’t let it go.

I grabbed a marker from a drawer, mentally capturing the image of her lying there, unable to move as my come dripped from her pussy. Now she knew that I never needed her pain, only her surrender. The power games were over, but the result would be the same.

The drunken fog in my brain justified my behavior as the marker moved across the skin of her hip. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but when I stepped back to examine my handiwork, it only made sense. My only regret was that it could never be true.

Written in black ink, stamped on her flesh, was the certainty that could never be.

Mine.

GYPSY STIRRED FROM HER SEAT, the wind curling strands of hair around her neck as she opened her heavy eyes and sat up to glance out the window. “Where are we?”

I turned my attention back to the road ahead, amusement playing across my lips. After the flights and a ferry ride, it was understandable that she had jet lag. It was her first international trip, and I’d somewhat sprang it on her without warning.

“We’re in Santorini,” I told her.

“Greece?” she rasped.

I snuck a glance at her, eyes tired but excited. She looked beautiful, as she always did, but her defenses were down right now, and there was value in that.

“You told me you wanted to travel the world. I thought this would be a good place to start.”

She offered me a sweet smile, the afternoon sun scattering over her skin like a kaleidoscope. We’d been traveling for far too long, and I was eager to get to the hotel where we would be uninterrupted for the next three days.

“If this is where we start,” she said. “Where does it end?”

“You’ll have to see,” I told her.

Her eyes were soft as they wandered over my face, almost repentant. “What about work?”

The trial was coming up in two months, and I had intentionally blocked off this time for that reason. Once the process started, I’d be seeing very little of Gypsy. It was important to me that we had this time together because I was all too aware that the stress of the trial could cause a rapid decline in my health.

“I’ve been working a lot.” I reached across the seat and took her hand in mine. “I thought maybe you finally deserved that honeymoon.”

The driver pulled to a stop in front of the hotel, and Gypsy couldn’t contain herself. She got out of the car before either of us could open the door, shielding her eyes with her hand as she peeked down at the sea. “This place is unreal,” she murmured. “It feels like we’re on top of the world.”

I took in the moment, watching her with a reverence that I couldn’t hide anymore. I wanted to remember her just like this. Beautiful and happy, facing the world with the wonderment of a child that most adults often forgot. I hoped she’d never lose that. I hoped that even when I was gone from her life, she would find contentment in the little things.

The driver removed our bags, and I took Gypsy’s hand in mine, following him down the narrow white stairs to the room.

“Don’t we have to check in?” she asked.

“No, I had them leave it unlocked. The keys are inside.”

Her response got lost in her curiosity as her eyes roamed over the property. The hotel was a group of suites located in the village of Imerovigli where my research told me we could see some of the best sunsets the world over. Perched on top of the island with a direct view of the volcano and the Aegean Sea, I hoped that Gypsy and I might find solace here.

We turned the corner, and Gypsy made a small sound of surprise as she looked around the space. “This is beautiful.”

And it was. We were surrounded by a white wash of Cycladic houses and hotels with a spattering of blue church domes. But the suite itself was large and private with a veranda overlooking the water and a plunge pool that extended inside the room. Gypsy already had her eye on it before we even made it inside.

I tipped the driver, and he left us on our own to explore the space. Gypsy walked around the room, touching the walls and examining the artwork before she found the bottle of champagne waiting for us on the table. She popped it with an easy familiarity and poured us each a glass.

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