Epilogue #3
Heat spreads beneath my skin as he works the dress down my body, revealing me gradually while his attention remains fixed on every response.
When the gown gathers around my feet, he lifts me from it and carries me to the bed wearing only my silk undergarments and the shoes Chloe insisted completed the dress.
His gaze travels down my body.
“Shoes stay on,” he says.
“That doesn’t sound very spiritual.”
“It isn’t.”
I laugh, but the sound catches when his mouth closes over my nipple through the silk. My fingers grip his shoulders as he draws the fabric aside and uses his tongue with slow, devastating concentration.
Nothing about the practice diminishes the hunger between us. It intensifies it.
Every touch becomes deliberate. Every pause leaves room for sensation to spread before the next one begins. Rocco watches my face while his hand moves between my thighs, learning me again as though a year together has not exhausted his need to discover more.
It never will.
By the time he enters me, we are both trembling. He holds himself still inside me while I wrap my legs around his waist. His forehead rests against mine, our breath breaking and finding its rhythm again.
“Look at me,” he says.
I do.
I see the man who once doubted everything he could not prove and the partner who now trusts the truths I carry without demanding that I make them smaller. I see protection without possession, strength without control, and love offered with nothing hidden behind it.
He begins to move.
Slowly.
Deeply.
The connection builds beyond physical pleasure, though there is more than enough of that.
Each movement draws another sound from me, another fracture in the careful composure he shows the rest of the world.
I feel the moment restraint becomes surrender, when his hands tighten and his rhythm loses its measured precision.
My body opens around him.
Rocco says my name, and the sound contains home, promise, and every future we have chosen without needing to see it first.
Release moves through me in a long, powerful wave. He follows, holding me against him while our bodies tremble together and our shared breathing becomes ragged, imperfect, and entirely human.
Afterward, he keeps me wrapped around him.
The candles burn lower. Wind moves through the trees beyond the windows, carrying leaves across the roof in a soft autumn rush. Nothing presses against the edge of my awareness. No borrowed emotion asks me to carry it. No vision pulls me toward a future I must decipher.
There is only Rocco, our cabin, and the rose quartz resting on the bedside table. For years, I believed protecting my energy meant keeping pieces of myself beyond everyone’s reach. Rocco taught me something different.
The right person doesn’t take until nothing remains. He meets me in every place I open … and somehow, I become more.
Thank you for reading . I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review or simply a star rating. This helps so much!