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“I have no choice, my principessa,” I say into the empty office.
Hours pass, and Emelia still hasn’t woken up. I spent most the night on the phone, answering emails and text messages, trying to get some work in without ruining any time I will have alone with Emelia. I found myself thinking back to the way I blurted out I love her without any warning or hesitation.
I know many things about Emelia already. Know when she’s angry. Know when she’s vulnerable. And now I have seen and known her when she has felt free. On the ice, I learned so much about her. She was in her element, lost to the forces outside that rink that were built to destroy us.
She forgot about the pain her parents caused. The abuse she took her whole life. I think she even forgot about me and everything we have. It was like there was her, the music, the ice, and nothing else. I’ve made a living out of learning people and what they’re thinking without ever having to hear them say a word. Emelia spoke loudest when she said nothing at all. She wears every emotion she has on her face so clearly, and that heart bleeds openly on her sleeve, even if she pretends it doesn’t.
She reminds me of my mother. Emelia would sacrifice all she has for those she loves… but I don’t think she has ever truly loved or been loved. Yet, I see she would still give up everything for those she cares for.
Hell, I saw the turmoil when I gave her the option to keep her family alive. Something I would never do, but with her, I did. For nearly my entire life, I lied to myself. Convincing myself I didn’t fucking want love, when all along, I knew deep inside I didn’t want love if it couldn’t touch the type my parents had. And more than that, I felt admitting that even to myself made me less of a man and too emotional. Too sensitive. Something I never want to be.
But if I ever had a chance to tell my mother that, hell, my father, they would laugh in my face and tell me to man up.
“Love is the only thing that can save your soul. It's the only thing that can bring you peace and solace, my sweet boy.” I hear my mother’s voice so clearly it almost… hurts.
My father told me the only softness inside him was my mother.
“I will only ever lay down the façade and armor for that creature. That divine angel, son. She is the heaven on earth and redemption I will have to cling to when death takes me and drags me to the underworld.”
I never believed redemption would come for me, but it did, with hair in golden hues, curves crafted by the gods, and a heart meant for every good thing in this world. Nothing to do with me. Yet she’s here, and she is mine.
It's been hours, and I have honored the space she practically screamed at me for with silence and tears. I need her. Have to touch her skin and center myself. I need her to need me. I need her to crave me and let me in.
Leaving my office, I head up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. When I open the door, I see her lying on the bed, the sheet covering just up to her hip while her bare skin is out on display for my hungry eyes. My shirt still sits at the end of the bed, and I wonder if she didn’t see it.
Climbing onto the bed, I lie behind her and start to kiss her shoulders, her bare back, the softness of her skin above her ribs. I knead the thickest part of her hip with my large, calloused hand. The imagery of Hades touching his Persephone comes to my mind, the dark soul seeking the light from her heavens.
“Wake up for me, my love. Let me feel you,” I whisper against her softness.
“Nico?” She sounds pained, and when I peer up, she’s looking at me with a weakness in her eyes, a hurt so deep that I caused and only can cure.
“Emelia,” I groan out her name is desperation. In that moment, I know we are in love, but I also know it’s not only the kind my parents had, but it’s something much darker. We are going to become one. If I could sell my soul to the devil to be intertwined with her, I would. The battles, crimes, and more that I would commit to keep her safe and to keep her mine—I wouldn’t hesitate to do it.
“Nico,” she whimpers again, turning on her back, and I grab her breasts and squeeze them, then rub them softly. Grazing her puckered nipples, I feel my cock grow so damn hard I can’t help but grind against the bed. I need a release. I need to feel something, the restriction unbelievably painful.
“I’m not going to resist you anymore. I gave you space, and now I need you to invade mine.” I beg her to let me taste her, fuck her, love her—anything. I just need her.
I reach under the blanket and touch between her legs. She is soaking through her panties, and I growl. I’m so damn hungry for her. Ripping the panties as if they’re merely paper, I breathe with relief as she automatically lets her legs fall open for me.
“Good girl,” I praise, kissing the roundness of her stomach, her thighs, and then my lips land on her clit. Fuck me, she tastes like mine. It’s like she has grown so accustomed to me that she tastes like her with a dash of me. Maneuvering between her legs, I settle myself there, and she leaks for me. Licking from her hole to her clit, I kiss her there, and she cries out my name.
Peering up but leaning my head down, I grin at her like the devil himself. “You taste so good, baby.”
She starts to rub her breasts, and I envy those hands, so I reach up and grip her breast, pinch the nipple, and dive between her legs again. I nip each of her pussy lips, then lick circles around her entrance, before I start to fuck her with my tongue. Taking my hand from her breast, I wrap it around her thigh and use it as leverage, so I can gain friction on my cock and still fuck her pussy with my pointed tongue.
“It’s not enough, Nico. This isn’t enough!” she cries out, and I stop… reluctantly. I sit up and remove my shirt, and she admires my body, taking in all the ridges.
“This is more than enough. In fact, it’s too much, Emelia. The way I need you.”
She starts to cry, and I hate the sight of her losing her fucking mind. She doesn’t understand love, not that I do either, but I have seen love enough to recognize it between us. Emelia has never had it, and that makes this so fucking hard on her.
“You are too much for me.”
“No, Emelia. We are just right. You’re scared of this, because you don’t understand it. Let me fucking show you. Let me spoil you withme. With fucking love.”
For a minute, she keeps her eyes on mine without a word, and I wait on the edge of my seat the entire time.
“Please,” she gives in, a longing so deep in her soul that she needs to feel it. I stand and move to the side of the bed to finish undressing. We watch one another, and I see the tears falling from the corners of her eyes. There is so much I want to do to take the stress away from her, but I only know this way. The words don't come naturally to me. The emotions, they are limited, but the physical touch, that is endless. I can give her all of me in our sacred fucking. Finally naked, I climb back between her legs, and I align myself with her entrance.
