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‘Nico,’ Aurora said, ‘I can’t do this over and over.’
‘You can.’
‘I can’t pretend I don’t want you.’
‘Keep wanting me,’ he told her.
‘I’m scared to keep wanting you,’ she admitted.
‘Never stop wanting me,’ he told her.
And those ragged words felt like permission simply to give in.
She collided with the stars, with the darkness, with the fantasy of husband and wife, with the rush and power of the orgasm he had made. She had not known such intensity lived in her and it felt as if she’d been tasered.
‘Nico!’ She thought she screamed his name, but her throat was so tight it came out as a hoarse cry.
Nico let out his own breathless shout as he drove into her for the final time.
And then they kissed—a breathless panting kiss that sedated her in her post-coital bliss.
He rolled off her and she lay in the dark bedroom, naked and uncovered, for the sheet had long since gone.
And now she found out what he had meant. For she was cooling now. The air on her damp body felt calming, and she could hear his breath evening out as hers did the same.
No, his slow love was not boring.
For even as she lay cooling she knew that at any given moment she would want him again.
Like this.
In his bedroom.
Night after night after night.
Did he regret it already? Aurora pondered as he lay quietly beside her.
Possibly she did, for she was replaying his words.
Keep on wanting me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KEEP ON WANTING ME.
Aurora lay there repeating his words in her head.
Was that to be her destiny?
To keep on wanting him? To keep on being available to him?
That sated feeling was fading, and as Nico reached across her for his phone the doubts and the hopelessness kicked back in.
‘Nico, why did you come back to Rome early?’
‘Work finished sooner than I expected and I had a good visit with my father, for once.’
Couldn’t he just say he had come back so he might see her?
