CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
OLIVIA
S urrounded by the heavy scent of aged leather and copal-polished Rosewood, I perched on the edge of an ornate chair in Pasha Hassan’s study, my mind swirling with a tempest of revelations. Every intricate carving in the room seemed to echo his regret and resolve. He loved his family deeply, yet he bowed before a cause greater than any bond of blood or affection. Pasha Hassan sought to protect what was left of his lineage just as fiercely as my father had endeavored to shield me.
I traced the cool metal of the mysterious blades across my lap, their engravings taunting me with secrets yet to be unlocked. I looked at him, his silhouette framed by the expansive tapestry behind.
“How do we decipher the scriptures on these blades?” I asked, hope threading my voice.
“You must wait, my dear. We all must rest and restore,” he said gently. “Tomorrow morning, I will bring you the book. It contains the alphabet needed to decipher the scripture.”
“Pasha Hassan—” I began, but he raised a hand, stopping me mid-sentence.
“I would like you to call me Amir,” he interjected. “Not Pasha Hassan. And Roman, when you’re ready, I would love for you to call me Father.”
Beside me, Roman shifted uncomfortably, his posture rigid with unvoiced emotions. “I’m… I’m not ready to call you Father. You put me through too many trials. I respect you, but…” He faltered, his voice wavering with the weight of his pain.
“I understand. Take your time,” Amir said, his hands trembling slightly, betraying his vulnerability.
“Even referring to you as Amir gives me pause,” Roman admitted. “But I shall try.”
“I hope that one day you will forgive me, Roman. I owe you my life,” Amir said, his voice heavy with sincerity. “But I had to do what I did. I followed my orders. Salvatore will stop at nothing to destroy us all. These challenges… they are what Salvatore puts his warriors through. I am merely following orders.”
A heavy sigh escaped him, laden with the weight of his regret. “Don’t be upset with Malik and Reyna. I did this to you. I had to. It pained me more than you’ll ever know. It pained me to take your children away. I did it selfishly… to be their grandfather.”
The absurdity hit me like a rogue wave crashing into still waters. A startled laugh burst forth from my lips before I could stifle it.
“Good one, Amir. So, we were fighting for our lives, and you were playing Grandpa.”
Beside me, Roman’s lips curled into a wry smile, a silent acknowledgment of the bizarre truth we’d been served.
“But, speaking of the children…” I said, my voice softening as my heart swelled with longing. “Please, let me see them. I miss them so dearly.”
“Of course,” Amir replied, his warmth contrasting with the cold resolve of moments earlier. With a curt nod, he signaled to someone beyond my line of sight. “As you wish, my dear.”
Measured footsteps approached, and a guard appeared in the doorway, clad in the ornate uniform befitting Pasha Hassan’s service. The guard bowed slightly, then gestured for us to follow him. My heart raced as we moved down the dimly lit corridor, every step bringing me closer to the reunion I had yearned for.
Inside the sanctuary, the air was still and fragrant with the sweet scent of innocence. Moonlight streamed through cracks in the ceiling, casting a celestial glow over the two slumbering forms nestled in their cribs. Roman’s hand tightened around mine, his grip conveying an unspoken torrent of emotions as we gazed upon our daughters, their small chests rising and falling with the tranquil rhythm of dreams.
“They look so peaceful,” I whispered, tears pricking the corners of my eyes, the weight of the world momentarily lifted by their serene presence.
“Like they’ve never known a moment’s distress,” Roman replied.
Movement stirred from the corner of the room, and Reyna emerged from the shadows, her presence a silent yet commanding sentinel. A frisson of surprise jolted through me.
“Reyna…” My voice faltered as I stepped toward her, the earlier strain of doubt and suspicion giving way to relief. Without hesitation, I enveloped her fiercely, “I’m so sorry I accused you of treachery. You were just doing what you had to do.”
Her arms tightened around me with equal fervor, and her voice carried the weight of understanding when she spoke. “Our father never would have killed you, Roman. The trials would have stopped. But you passed perfectly. You are ready.”
The tension within us unspooled, forgiveness knitting together the fractures in our relationship. Roman joined our embrace, his presence a grounding force that anchored us all.
As we stepped back, the flickering candlelight danced across Reyna’s features, highlighting the undeniable resemblance to Marcellious.
“I saved Marcellious. He is my brother, after all, which means I am your sister, Roman,” she revealed, her eyes holding a glint of pride.
The corner of Roman’s mouth lifted in a bittersweet smile. “You carry the face of an angel like our mother.”
Reyna’s laughter was soft but tinged with darkness. “I might look like an angel, but I am dark and deadly.”
“I’ve already seen that,” Roman replied, his tone layered with both respect and acknowledgment.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to meet you and Marcellious,” Reyna said, her voice thick with years of yearning. “Mother and Father spoke of you both so often. Our mother would be so proud to see us together like this. I hope we’ll free her from Solaris one day.”
With those parting words, Reyna turned and disappeared into the shadows from which she had come.
Gazing upon Rosie’s and Luna’s slumbering forms, nestled in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the fractured ceiling, our resolve solidified like the delicate threads of their well-worn blankets.
“We fought all our battles and challenges for them,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. “Look how angelic they are.”
Roman reached for me, his fingers threading with my own as if drawing strength from the connection.
“I hope we can reunite the blades, help the people of Solaris, and finally become a peaceful family with all our children,” he said, his gaze lingering on the serene faces of our daughters. “No more fear.”
With one last lingering look that imprinted their innocence into our hearts, we silently agreed it was time to leave. Hand in hand, we retreated from the nursery. The same warrior who had escorted us there kept his watchful eyes on our backs as we navigated the dimly lit corridors toward our room.
Relief washed over me the moment we entered the chamber. Here, amidst plush pillows and silken drapes, Roman and I sought refuge—not just from the weight of the world but the overwhelming enormity of our destinies.
“Olivia,” Roman breathed, his voice low and thick with desire as his hands cupped my face. His intense gaze burned into mine, his eyes darkened with lust and devotion, making my heart flutter wildly in my chest. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that spoke of battles endured and victories claimed. The passion between us was unrestrained, raw, and electrifying.
Our kiss deepened, tongues tangling in a dance that was both primal and exquisite, ancient yet fresh with discovery. The way his tongue thrust into my mouth and retreated mimicked a rhythm so intimate it sent a wave of molten heat straight to my core. A long, breathless moan escaped me, vibrating against his lips as I melted into him.
Roman’s touch was intoxicating, his hand sliding around my neck in a gentle yet commanding grip that sent a delicious shiver down my spine. His other hand found my hip, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. The hardness of his cock pressed against my stomach its heat and insistence fanning the flames of my desire.
As his lips moved with mine in perfect harmony, his hand slid lower, cupping my ass, squeezing and kneading with a precision that left me trembling. Every touch sent electric shocks racing through me, my body instinctively pressing against him, seeking more, needing more.
Roman broke the kiss, his lips lingering close enough that our breaths mingled, the air between us heavy with unspoken need. Our eyes locked, his smoldering gaze holding me captive as our chests rose and fell in unison, the anticipation building like a storm about to break.
“There are too many layers keeping us apart,” I whispered, my voice trembling with need.
A devilish grin curved his lips, his eyes gleaming with wicked mischief. “Allow me to fix that, my love.”
He turned me toward the full-length mirror, positioning me so I could see every movement, every lingering touch. His strong hands gripped my hips as he pressed his body flush against mine, his heat searing through the thin fabric separating us. His breath was warm against my neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there, sending a shiver rippling down my spine. Roman’s hands moved with reverence, untangling the sash of my long silk kaftan. The fabric slid from my shoulders and pooled at my feet, leaving me in the sheer entari beneath. His hands followed, sweeping across my curves with a touch so gentle it was maddening. His fingers worked the fabric away with deliberate care, baring the body I had tried to hide, the curves that still carried traces of Luna’s birth within me.
He paused, his lips pressing a hot kiss to the nape of my neck, and I gasped, my head falling back against his shoulder. “You’re exquisite,” he murmured, his voice a husky rasp as his eyes roamed over me in the mirror.
I lifted my head, catching sight of the damp stains spreading over the fabric of my gomlek, the evidence of my body’s nourishment for our child. My breasts were full and heavy with milk, and Roman’s gaze darkened further as it lingered on the wet patches that clung to my nipples.
“I see you have milk for me, my love,” he murmured, his voice a sinful growl that sent a thrill racing through me.
His hands slid up to cup my breasts, the warmth of his palms igniting a fire in me that made me tremble. His thumbs grazed over my hardened nipples, teasing the damp fabric and sending shocks of pleasure straight to my core. “These are mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. “Every part of you, Olivia. Mine to love, to worship, to taste.”
He slipped the gomlek down, baring my engorged breasts to the cool air and his heated gaze. Roman’s hands molded to my curves, his thumbs circling my nipples, coaxing a soft, needy moan from my lips. His mouth found my neck, trailing kisses down to my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin.
“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding, thick with authority and desire. “See what I see. Look at how stunning you are. See how much I want you, how much I need you.”
I met his gaze in the mirror, and the intensity there stole the breath from my lungs. His darkened eyes held a hunger so deep, so consuming, that it felt like his desire alone could devour every doubt I carried. His hands slid lower, their journey unhurried, savoring every curve. His lips followed, leaving soft, burning kisses along my shoulder and back, igniting a firestorm of need that consumed me entirely.
My fingers trailed over the faint stretch marks that curved across my belly, their presence like echoes of the life I had carried within me. They felt like rivers etched into my skin—beautiful but stark reminders of how much I had changed. My body prickled under the weight of my insecurities, invisible eyes that seemed to judge me harshly. Shifting uncomfortably, I tried to silence the whispers of imperfection that crept into my thoughts.
Sensing my unease, Roman’s grip on me tightened, grounding me in his touch. His lips pressed softer, more deliberate kisses to my shoulder, his movements unhurried, as though he knew he needed to pull me from my spiral.
“You’ve never been more beautiful,” he rasped, his voice molten and reverent. “Every mark, every curve, every piece of you—it’s ours, Olivia. They tell our story.”
I glanced at the mirror again, catching the raw emotion in his eyes, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. His hands slid back up to cup my breasts, squeezing just enough to make me gasp. His thumbs grazed my nipples again, this time slower, deliberate, sending sparks racing through my body.
“You’re a fucking goddess,” Roman growled, his breath hot against my ear. “These curves, this body, everything about you—it’s mine. Every part of you is perfect, Olivia. Do you feel that?” His hand moved to cover mine, guiding my fingers to trace the stretch marks on my belly. “These marks? They’re proof of your strength, of the life we created together. And they make you even more irresistible.”
His words seeped into me, melting away the icy grip of self-doubt. Roman’s lips returned to my neck, this time sucking gently, teasing, leaving marks of his own. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent a moan spilling from my lips, louder this time, as my body responded to every stroke of his hands and every burning kiss.
“Don’t hide from me,” he murmured, his voice rough and desperate. “Don’t you dare. Let me see you. Let me worship you.”
In the mirror, I saw myself through his eyes—strong, radiant, utterly desired. His hands slid down my hips, gripping firmly, pulling me back against his hard, unyielding body. The heat of him pressed into me, his arousal impossible to ignore. He rolled his hips slowly, teasing me, making my breath catch and my knees tremble.
“Let go, Olivia,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Let me love you. Let me show you how perfect you are to me.”
Before I could retreat further, his hands were on me, pulling me close, his strong arms locking me against his chest. The solid heat of him, the steady beat of his heart, surrounded me, grounding me. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “Every inch. Every scar. Every curve. You’re mine, Olivia. My fire. My everything.”
His hands slid down my back, deliberate and slow, igniting sparks along every nerve ending. I let out a shaky breath, my body trembling as he worshipped me with his touch.
“God, I love you, Roman,” I said, my heart swelling with raw emotion.
A sinful smile tugged at his mouth as his hands roamed lower, gripping me firmly. “Good, my flaming fire,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my neck. “Because I adore you, every piece of you. Like the sun worships the dawn, I’ll never stop loving you.”
His hands moved deliberately, tracing a slow, torturous path down my sides, his touch igniting sparks that raced across my skin. My body arched instinctively into him, desperate for more as his fingertips teased the edges of my hips, just enough to leave me trembling. My breath came quicker, my heart pounding in my chest as heat flooded me. When his lips left mine, they began a searing descent down the length of my neck, lingering at the hollow of my throat, then lower, lower still, until I was sure I might combust beneath his touch.
I let out a soft, involuntary moan as his lips brushed along the curve of my spine, each kiss deliberate, scorching, leaving a trail of fire that burned through every last shred of restraint I had. He paused at the waistband of my salvar, his teeth tugging at the fabric, teasing, his breath hot against my skin. The ache between my thighs grew unbearable, and my hands reached back, grasping at his arms, silently begging for more.
“Olivia, my heart,” Roman whispered, his voice thick with desire and devotion, the rawness of it sending a wave of heat through me. “I will love you through every breath, every moment, every lifetime. As rivers carve their way through ancient stone, so too will my love for you shape eternity.”
He moved around to face me, his movements slow and predatory, his eyes darkened with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs. His hands slid up, cupping my breasts, his touch both reverent and sinful. A gasp escaped me as his thumbs brushed over sensitive peaks, the warmth of his palms spreading through me like liquid fire.
“In the dawn of every new day,” he murmured, lowering his lips to trace the curve of my collarbone, “when the sun kisses the horizon, know this—my devotion to you burns brighter, hotter. And when the stars take their place in the sky, my love will guide you, a beacon that never wavers.”
His words were a heady mix of poetry and possession, but it was his touch that undid me. His hands slid over the curves of my body, exploring me with a slow, deliberate reverence that set every nerve alight. His lips found mine again, this time with unrestrained hunger, stealing the last of my breath as he pulled me closer.
“Olivia,” he growled against my mouth, his voice dripping with need, “in the tapestry of time, our love will be the golden thread—the fire that burns through the centuries. You are everything. My past, my present, my forever.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as Roman’s devotion enveloped me, raw and unrelenting. In that moment, the flaws I once saw in myself disappeared, replaced by the sheer power of his adoration. His love wasn’t just tender—it was consuming, a force so primal it made me feel radiant, unstoppable, and entirely his.
My body trembled under his touch, the ache between my thighs growing unbearable with every deliberate brush of his hands. My breath came in shallow, erratic gasps as he cradled my face, his lips capturing mine in a kiss so deep, so carnal, it unraveled me completely. His tongue claimed me with an urgency that sent waves of heat coursing through my body, his hands roaming with possessive precision as though I belonged to him and only him.
I clawed at his clothes, my fingers frantic, removing each article in a desperate need to feel his skin against mine.
The satin salvar slipped from my hips, sliding down my legs in a whisper of surrender. Roman groaned, the sound low and primal, as his eyes raked over me, darkened with lust. His powerful, naked form shimmered in the moonlight—a masterpiece of strength and desire. The sight of him, hard and ready, sent a fresh surge of heat pooling between my legs.
“You’re incredible,” he growled, his voice rough with hunger. In a single, effortless motion, he lifted me into his arms, his arousal pressing hot and insistent against my core as he carried me to the bed. His lips never left mine, claiming me with every step.
As he laid me down amongst the cushions, his mouth found my neck, trailing a blazing path of kisses that had me arching into him. His hands explored me with reverence and hunger, his touch igniting sparks that left me gasping. My body was his canvas, and he painted his love on every inch of me with lips, teeth, and tongue.
His kisses moved lower, his mouth lingering on the curve of my breasts before claiming a sensitive peak. I cried out as his tongue swirled around me, his teeth grazing the delicate skin just enough to send jolts of pleasure straight to my core. His hands slid down my sides, firm yet teasing, leaving me trembling and desperate for more.
“Roman,” I whimpered, his name a plea as his lips continued their descent. He took his time, trailing fire from my belly to the curve of my hips, his hands parting my thighs with deliberate care. I lay there, exposed and vulnerable, my body burning with need as he settled between my legs.
His lips brushed the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, his breath hot and teasing as he inched closer to where I ached for him most. Every kiss, every flick of his tongue, sent shivers cascading through me, each touch building the fire that burned hotter and hotter.
When his mouth finally found me, I shattered. His tongue moved against my swollen flesh with deliberate, excruciating precision, alternating between soft, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks that had me writhing beneath him. His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he drove me higher, the pressure building with every skilled movement of his tongue.
I moaned his name, my voice breaking as he pushed me to the edge of sanity. The heat, the intensity, the way his mouth worshipped me—it was too much and not enough all at once. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as my body arched off the bed, desperate for release.
“Roman,” I gasped, my voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, consuming me whole. His mouth didn’t falter, his tongue relentless in its pursuit of my release, teasing and tasting until every shuddering cry escaped my lips. My body quaked beneath him, trembling as aftershocks rippled through me, leaving me breathless and light-headed. I floated in a haze of ecstasy, my mind spinning as he continued to worship me.
Roman withdrew, his tongue leaving me with a sinful ache, his hands gliding soothingly over my trembling thighs as I came down from the high. His grin was wicked, his expression a heady mix of satisfaction and pure, unfiltered hunger. “Don’t think we’re done, my beautiful flame,” he murmured, his voice dripping with promise. “I’m just getting started.”
Before I could catch my breath or even respond, his mouth returned with devastating intensity. His tongue was merciless, exploring me with precision and passion, driving me to the edge over and over again. Each time I begged for mercy, he pulled me back under, my cries filling the room as another orgasm tore through me. My body arched off the bed, trembling as I soared higher than before, my pleasure so raw, so consuming, it left me sobbing his name.
“That,” he murmured, his voice dark and intoxicating as he pulled away, “was just a taste.” His words sent a thrill through me, anticipation igniting deep within. “There’s so much more I want to show you, Olivia. So much more I want you to feel.”
His hand moved lower, gripping his swollen cock, and he slid it teasingly between my slick folds, coating himself in my arousal. I gasped, my back arching as the anticipation reached its peak. “Roman…” My voice was a whisper, a plea, as he pressed against me, the heat of him stealing what little composure I had left.
With one slow, deliberate thrust, he entered me, filling me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, his hardness stretching and claiming me in a way that stole the air from my lungs. Our bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that was as primal as it was perfect, a dance older than time itself. Each thrust was a masterpiece, a stroke of passion that etched itself into my soul, binding us together in a way that transcended anything I had ever known.
“Look at me,” he growled, his voice rough with desire as his gaze locked onto mine. “You’re mine, Olivia. Every inch of you belongs to me.”
We moved as one, our connection unshakable, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over us. My nails raked across his back, leaving marks on his skin, a physical declaration of the pleasure he gave me. His lips found mine, our kisses deep and ravenous, a battle of tongues and need that left me dizzy.
Laughter bubbled between us, soft and breathless, mingling with the moans and cries of ecstasy. Roman’s teasing touches had me laughing one moment and writhing beneath him the next, his hands exploring every inch of me as though he couldn’t get enough. The sound of my laughter blended with his low growls, a symphony of passion and joy that built into an unstoppable crescendo.
The pressure inside me built to a breaking point, each thrust amplifying the fire between us until it exploded in a tidal wave of bliss. “Oh, God, Roman!” I screamed, my body shattering around him as I reached my climax, the intensity ripping through me and leaving me trembling in its wake.
“Fuck, Olivia,” he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as his release overtook him. With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled himself inside me, his warmth filling me as he growled my name. My body clenched around him, another orgasm tearing through me as my cries mingled with his, our voices echoing in perfect harmony.
When we finally collapsed into each other’s arms, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no past, no future—only this moment, only Roman and me, tangled together in the aftermath of our passion. His heartbeat echoed against mine, our breaths mingling as we lay entwined, basking in the glow of what we had created together. In his arms, I was whole, loved, and utterly complete.
I sighed into the crook of his neck, my mind drifting to the shared dream that now tied us together. A future for us, our children, and the world we would rebuild together. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing became my anchor as I traced the inked patterns on his chest, each line and swirl a reminder of our journey.
“Roman,” I murmured, my voice tinged with awe. “We finally have answers.” My eyes sparkled with a radiant joy, a light that had been absent for far too long.
Roman pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me with a protective warmth that lulled me into a peaceful sleep. I was so sated—not just from our lovemaking but from the weight of the knowledge we now held.
The strange glowing orb in the corner of the room pulsed with dawn’s calling, casting a warm, golden hue over our entwined forms. It felt like we had feasted on the universe’s secrets, savoring each revelation as if it were the most sumptuous of meals. And yet, there was more—so much more—the lure of unraveling the sacred scripture’s mysteries awaited us.
As if on cue, the scent of freshly baked bread and strong coffee wafted into the room, heralding the quiet entrance of a manservant carrying a tray laden with breakfast. He set it down with practiced grace, offering a respectful nod.
“Master Roman, Lady Olivia,” he said softly. “Breakfast is served.”
Roman and I indulged in the comfort of our bed just a moment longer, letting the robust aroma of the morning meal envelop us. With each bite, the strength and vigor we needed for the day ahead returned to our bodies.
“Pasha Hassan awaits you in his study,” the servant informed us after we had eaten our fill. His words were simple, yet they carried the weight of expectation.
“Tell Amir… tell Father we will be there shortly,” Roman replied, his voice steady and resolute.
I nodded, bolstered by the prospect of what lay ahead. We were ready to unravel the mysteries enshrined within the sacred texts and begin weaving the future we had fought so fiercely to secure.
With hearts full and minds eager, we rose from the soft embrace of our bed, stepping into the light of a new day—one brimming with hope and purpose. Yet, beneath this fleeting sense of tranquility lurked shadows. The inevitable dangers waiting to test us were never far. We knew peace was but a temporary guest in our tumultuous world.