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I watch her sigh with pleasure when I shift my hand between her legs. I won’t fuck her. She opened herself up, and she told me what happened to her. She brought herself to the most vulnerable form of her being. I can’t do that now.
I pull my hand away.
“No,” she whimpers. “Please…I need it. Why won’t you fuck me?”
“A BDSM scene is not always about sex,” I whisper in her ear. “We both got what we needed out of this session, and I won’t push you any harder.”
“But…” she sobs. More tears come. I watch them get stuck in her long, black eyelashes before they fall down her cheeks. Subdrop. She needs aftercare now, and so do I. “Was I bad?”
I shake my head, grabbing her face between my palms again. My skin is in a hurry to be against hers. “No, baby. You were perfect.” My forehead falls on hers. “You are such a good girl.”
I feel her nodding against me. “Thank me for the session,” I tell her, mixing our breaths.
My eyes close when her small, hoarse voice reaches my ears in a perfect harmony. “Thank you, Sir.”
“That’s my good girl,” I whisper against her lips.
I try to grasp the remnant of my control, but it slips through my fingers, and I happily watch it fade away. My lips come to meet hers in a feather-light kiss.
But her reaction is fire. She lights up, kissing me back, possessing my lips like the devil does his worshippers.
A moan escapes me as I open my mouth to slide my tongue against hers. She grabs it for herself, moaning back against my lips. Our tongues entangle, and our teeth clash. Grabbing the back of her thighs, I pull until she wraps her legs around my waist. She bucks her hips against me and it raises my t-shirt, making me feel her wet cunt against my lower stomach. She rubs herself against me, and I let her, knowing she won’t be able to get off. Knowing that’s not her aim anymore.
No, everything is in our kiss. The movement of her hips is an unconscious act because her entire being is drowning her in the second kiss we’ve ever exchanged.
The first one, on the day she got kidnapped, I was telling her goodbye. I wanted to leave with the knowledge I had a piece of her coming with me. It was wrong; I was with Lik…but it neverfeltwrong. I never regretted it. Because her lips had touched mine and she had belonged to me wholly for a short minute. It was ephemeral, and while she didn’t know, I was completely aware that it was nothing but a kiss.
A simple goodbye kiss.
Unlike this one.
This kiss…It’s the reunification of our souls after so long being apart. It’s two pieces of a puzzle finally slotting into each other.
When we were kids, she bought those heart necklaces for us. The kind that breaks in the middle and we both get a piece.
This is what this kiss is. Two halves of the same broken heart finally being mended.
It feels like it’s been an eternity when our lips separate. Her cheeks are damp from the tears that spilled and her lips are swollen from our kiss.
I pull away, and her eyes…
I know with a deadly certainty that millennia ago, the twelve Olympian gods poured diamonds into the sky and turned them into stars just so they could steal them back and place them in Rose’s eyes tonight.
With a blink of her starry eyes, she lights up my heart and pushes it to beat to the rhythm of love. She’s overtaken my mind, invaded every single cell in my body, and taken my love hostage.
With her legs still wrapped around my hips, I undo her cuffs. She falls into my arms, and I carry her back upstairs.
I don’t want to wake Lik and Rachel. And, selfishly, I want Rose to myself for whatever few hours are left of the night.
I walk to the guest bedroom and then to the en-suite. I keep her in my arms, her long legs tight against me, as I run a bath.
We both end up in it with no will whatsoever for our skins to stop touching. She winces when her ass cheeks hit the warm water, but I’ve added oils that I know will soothe her very soon.
We relax, her body in between my legs and her back against my stomach. Her head is resting on my collarbone, and I can’t stop dropping kisses on her cheek, her jaw, and the corner of her mouth.
My hands run along her body in languishing, loving gestures. Every time I stop on a scar, she tells me where it’s from, and I’ve never felt closer to her.
My thumb brushes the one on her right thigh, still pink from the months prior.
