Forty-Five
Amelia
Four weeks later it’s mid-May, the weather cold and unpredictable, and I awake to heavy fog blocking our view of the ocean beyond the beach.
The house that Bastien has loaned us is beautiful. I like it more than Lukas’s, and it carries only positive memories.
His side of the bed is empty, the mattress warm. He’s probably cooking me breakfast; he does that a lot these days. Scrambled eggs and bacon with mushrooms on the side, and I’m not tired of it yet.
If I’m quick, I have time for a swim, and pull on my suit and cap before I head down. Fortunately, the pool is not only heated but enclosed.
He’s not making me breakfast after all. He’s swimming naked, his bare ass catching the light beneath the water’s surface.
I stand with my hands on my hips, watching his careful breaststroke with a frown. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Exercising. I’m feeling stronger.”
“You’re feeling stubborn,” I correct. “The nurse said you’ll put your recovery back if you push it too early.”
“The nurse has left.”
And I’m not sorry; I prefer us alone. Still, “You should be resting.”
“I’m done resting. Muscle disuse sets recovery back as surely as overuse, and for a man of my age—”
“Decrepit, you mean?” I can’t help it; it’s just too much fun to push.
His jaw clenches, eyes flashing as he watches me. “Bold words for someone who’ll be regretting them soon enough.”
Regretting them? I very much doubt it.
Anticipation stirs my blood, tightening my nipples against my suit and pooling heat between my legs. I’m not scared of his punishment list or what it might mean when he finally recovers his strength, I crave it. It can’t come soon enough.
“I’d worry more if you could catch me,” I tease, pulling my goggles into place, and diving over his head into the water.
He’s waiting for me when I’ve finished my first two laps, and I don’t go for a flip-turn but wait to see what he’ll do. He snags me as soon as I come in reach, pulling me against him, his body warm and his cock pressing hard against my stomach.
I push my goggles up. “Mister, you’re distracting.”
“I’m going to sit on a lounger and watch you.”
Disappointment flares; I was hoping for more. I smile anyway. “You do that.”
“But first, I’m saying good morning.” He slides his hands up and cups my face, brushing my lips with his, then deepens our kiss.
I open to him, my arms coming around his neck, pushing my breasts into his chest. His tongue teases, but two can play that game, and I hide mine, forcing him to come looking.
As soon as he does, I kiss him back aggressively, pulling a grunt of pleasure from him.
His arms tighten around me, and I feel his cock twitch.
It’s all I can do not to slide a hand down to it.
He pulls away first, gazing into my eyes. “Your kisses reflect you. Fierce and competitive, playful and wry. Do you know how much I love you?”
My heart bursts every time I hear those words, and I have to clamp down hard on my smile. Instead, I feign indifference. “You’ve mentioned it, yes. Haven’t shown me in a while.”
“What?” He blinks at me, his arms relaxing. It opens his shoulders, drawing my eyes to the pink spider-like scar that sits there, a reminder of what he did for me.
Put himself in harm’s way. Covered my body with his. Risked his life to save mine.
How can I ever pay him back for that? What more proof do I need of his love?
I shrug a shoulder and shake my head in mock dismay, because this push and pull defines us. “It’s been six weeks since you took bullets for me, a day longer than that since our last date, and I can’t even think how long it’s been since you pinned me down or cuffed me to something.”
His lips quirk, enjoying my playfulness. “Dates are back on the menu.”
“Good boy, one out of three.” I pat his chest, brush against his cock as I turn away. “I’m swimming now.”
His fingers hook into the straps of my swimsuit, stopping me. “First, I’m taking this.” He pulls them off my shoulders before I can react. I cover my chest in reflex, pinning the material, a flush burning my cheeks.
“Stop it,” I hiss. “There are windows everywhere. Tony and Jorge will see.”
His hands pause, lips curling in amusement. “It’s privacy glass. One-way.” His eyes go hard with that possessive look I know so well. “No one gets to see you naked except me.”
“Oh. You could’ve said.” I let my hands fall away.
He peels my suit down, taking his time. He just has to draw it out. I bite my lip, feeling my blush grow. He’s seen me naked so many times, but unwrapping me like this? So slowly? In the pool, of all places?
My breasts spill free, my nipples already two stiff peaks from our teasing, but he doesn’t look down, his gaze locked on mine.
He draws the straps down my arms, then lowers to one knee.
Only then do his eyes roam, and he places a kiss on one nipple.
It aches for more, and I can’t help the small noise I let escape.
Lukas lowers further, the water covering his head, yet his lips still place kisses over my stomach. My suit is tugged down over my hips, and I grip his shoulder for balance, pulling one foot free and then the other, hurrying before he drowns.
He rises up, grinning adorably and holding my suit as a prize, then throws it to splat onto the side of the pool.
“You’re incorrigible,” I say, pressing close for another kiss. This one is much better than the first, and I rub myself against him as his hands cup my bare ass, pulling me against his hard cock.
I press my hips to his and arch my back, wanting to see his face for what I’m about to tell him. It’s been long enough; I want him to know. “Do you know why I let you do that?”
“Because swimming without a suit is more fun?”
“Well… yes.” He’s not wrong. I look up at him through my eyelashes. “But also… because I’m yours.”
He draws in a sharp breath, his arms tightening so hard around me that I know he’ll never let me go, and his steel-grey eyes darken. He gazes down at me, so many emotions crossing his face that I can’t name them.
I think I’ve stolen his voice, but then he clears his throat. “I was yours first,” he says huskily.
“Oh, is it a competition?” I tease.
“No,” he replies quite seriously. “Only the truth. I didn’t realize it until later, but the very first day I saw you… standing there, so brave, so fierce.”
My hand cups his jaw, my palm rubbing against his chin. “You loved me first, too,” I say, watching his expression as I pour all my heart into my words. “I may have been slow to realize it, but… I love you, and I want you to know it. I’m going to show you how much, every day.”
He shudders against me, and my gaze drops to the scar on his shoulder, a reminder of just how much he loves me, of what I almost lost. Pink and permanent, the shape of what love costs.
I put it there, in a way—my captivity, my despair, the Volkovs coming for us both. I started it all, but he finished it.
“I have a lot to make up for,” I add softly. So much time wasted punishing him when I didn’t need to. I won’t make that mistake any longer.
“No, you don’t,” he says quickly, his eyes glistening as he stares at me with such intensity.
His hand finds the nape of my neck, gripping hard, always making me feel so small.
He takes a breath and lets it out slowly, as if trying to control himself, and that only excites me.
Him? Losing control? Only I can make him do that, and it thrills me that I can.
“You have nothing to prove. I’ve known you’ve loved me for a while now. ”
That’s such a him reply.
“You did, huh?” I say, smiling as my tears threaten to spill. “Always so smug, Van Wyk.”
“Lukas,” he murmurs, and bends to kiss me.
This isn’t a gentle good morning kiss, but a hungry need to consume, and I meet it in the same way.
He pulls me hard enough against him to make me gasp, and the feel of his body makes me moan my need into his mouth.
His tongue plays with mine, our kiss deepening, and God I’m so ready for him to be inside me.
I wish so much that he wasn’t injured. These weeks have been hell.
He doesn’t release his hold on my neck, but sweeps my swim cap off with his other hand and works my braid loose, letting it fall free. I flatten my palms against his chest, feeling his muscles and trailing my fingers lower to caress his abs.
He trails kisses across my jawline, down the side of my neck, and my eyes flutter closed. I don’t want the pool right now, I want our bed. We can be gentle, can’t we?
“Van Wyk,” I murmur. “Van Wyk, Van Wyk…”
“Lukas,” he growls, and nips at my throat.
“I love Lukas,” I tell him, “but it’s Van Wyk who fucks me.” And not gently. Never that.
He spins me, facing me to the steps and giving me a little push. “On the lounger,” he orders, voice low with need.
“You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I don’t care.”
“But if we wait, you’ll be able to do it again, and again.”
“I will anyway,” he growls. “Make no mistake, Little Stray, after that declaration, nothing will prevent me from pinning you down and forcing my cock inside you.”
My eyes close as my arousal spikes, my body clenching with need, legs turning weak. I’m grateful for the support of the water as I wade through to the steps.
But there I pause. He’s right behind me, and I take my time climbing, swaying my hips more than necessary, arching my back and pushing my ass toward him. The groan he can’t help is my reward.
The loungers are right there, five of them near the windows. Yet I don’t want those; they’re not sturdy enough for what I have in mind.
And as soon as I clear the steps, I flee.
His laugh follows me. “Run then, Little Stray. I will always find what’s mine.”