Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Heat smolders in his eyes, but the way Weston looks at me is with more than just desire.
Rivulets of water cascade down his naked flesh, splashing into the tub as he grips both sides and stands.
His movements aren’t hasty, they’re purposeful as he steps over the side, toweling off before reaching his hands out to help me to my feet.
Weston never wants to see me in pain, and he knows that what I’ve asked for is the only balm that will soothe the wounds that are actively bruising and bleeding my heart.
He never makes me wait, or makes me question whether or not he wants to touch me or be with me, but this time feels different.
Each touch and caress is reverent and unhurried, but enough that I’m not left feeling empty.
His hands are gentle as he towels off my hair, then slides the plush fabric down the length of my skin. I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of him caring for me, and try to focus only on that. Not tomorrow, not the future. Only Weston.
He lifts my chin gently, and my eyelids barely flutter open before they are closing again as he dips his face to mine, sweeping me into a soft, sensual kiss.
With his arms wrapped around my middle, he lifts me until our chests press together, our bodies molding and fitting with one another as if we were always meant to be.
My arms fall gently around his neck, and a soft sigh escapes my lips when his tongue brushes against mine, asking, seeking, yearning, and I let him.
My thoughts dim under the heat of his skin, and the deepening of his kiss, and I don’t realize he’s carried me across the room until my back settles on the cool sheets of his bed.
Our bed.
For the last time.
He never breaks contact as he lowers himself over me, his bare skin caressing every inch of mine. Strong arms encircle me, muscles tightening as he clutches me to him, his kiss still slow and constant, as if we have all the time in the world.
Turning away slightly, I break the seal of our kiss, and our chests heave against each other, my body relishing and also fighting against the crushing weight of him. When he presses his forehead against mine, I break the silence.
“I love you,” I whisper, and almost wince as I can hear the tears I’m holding back in my broken voice. His hand moves to my face, his thumb brushing the swollen pout of my bottom lip, but his eyes dart between mine as his brow furrows.
“Don’t say that like you’re telling me goodbye.
” The low rumble in his chest and the earnest look on his face almost breaks the dam holding my tears back, and it takes everything in me to keep them at bay, to just focus on him.
His heat, his weight, his smell. Trying to memorize everything in case it all disappears.
“Lennox,” he says, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I focus back on his face. “We aren’t saying goodbye.”
“Weston—”
“No. I said it’s your decision whichever way we do this, but this is not goodbye. Tonight is not goodbye. Do you understand me?”
My throat tightens as a traitorous tear escapes the corner of my eye, but I don’t answer. I can’t. Not when everything about this night and the way he is holding me feels exactly like a goodbye.
His face hardens, the commanding look of the stoic captain I fell in love with firmly in place. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me you understand.”
I swallow hard, my voice watery when I can finally speak. “I understand.”
As if to seal the agreement between us, his lips mold over mine, the fire behind his words burning into me, and I kiss him back with all the same heat and intensity.
He pulls away, his face softening again as he presses slow kisses to my face, my jaw, my neck, slowly winding his way down my body.
His hands never leave me. They explore my skin, holding and caressing as if I’m the most precious thing in the world to him.
The brush of his fingertips lights a fire in their wake, and my core throbs and flutters the closer he gets, but he doesn’t hurry.
Instead, he savors me. With every brush of his lips, his tongue, his fingers, he breaks me and builds me back up again, until all of my worry and anguish is replaced by his all-consuming love.
“So fucking beautiful,” he grumbles against my inner thigh, and my chest swells when he moves to the other side.
“So fucking perfect.” My body writhes and shakes as he finds my wet heat, worshiping me with his mouth and tongue, as his soft words of endearment and encouragement mix with my whimpers of uncontrollable pleasure.
When I feel as if I’m going to split in two, both from his body and the swell of emotions he’s pulling from me, I reach for his hand, pulling it away from where it is planted firmly on my hip, and tug him toward me.
“I need you,” I pant, the words almost a plea. His eyes meet mine from where his chin rests on my stomach, and the passion in his gaze makes my heart pound in my chest. “I need you inside me.”
“There is no place in this world, or our world I would rather be, my queen.”
Sitting back on his heels, he grips my hips and slides me toward him before wrapping my legs around his back and angling my body the way he wants me.
Unable to tear my eyes away, I watch every movement as he reaches down, fingers wrapping around his thick cock, hard and ready after all the time he already spent pleasuring my body.
He lines himself up, his tip teasing my entrance, and my breaths grow rapid with expectation of him filling me.
The thick muscles in his thighs ripple as his hips flex forward, so slowly and torturously stretching and filling me, that I can’t stop the low moan that rumbles in my throat.
I bite my lip to stifle a cry when his hands find the curve of my ass and lift, pulling me closer and holding my hips off the bed as he sinks impossibly deeper.
My hands fist in the sheets as he finds a rhythm; a slow thrust and retreat, the fullness everything that I was begging him for.
He’s not frantic or hurried, but like Weston always does, he pours all his emotions into his touch. Every deep stroke feels like something new. It feels like uncertainty and fear and worry, but most of all it feels like love.
And even though he said it isn’t, it feels like goodbye.
He catches me watching, unable to look away from where the deep cut of his muscles guides my gaze to his cock, especially as it slowly sinks inside of me.
“You can watch me take you all you want, sweetheart,” he says, followed by a low grunt as he hits me impossibly deeper. The muscles in his abdomen ripple, and sweat glistens on his skin, sparkling over every surface and making even the mangled flesh of his scar beautiful in the moonlight.
“Watch me remind you that this is mine. Your cries are mine, your pleasure is mine, your body is mine.” He leans forward, setting both hands on either side of my head, but his hips do not stop their decadent torture. He lowers his face until his lips are barely a breath away. “Your heart is mine.”
“And yours is mine,” I whisper as I stare into his eyes.
“For eternity.”
His mouth drops to mine, and he kisses me fiercely, crushing himself to me, and devouring me in every way he can.
Fire licks up my spine as he rocks into me, the pressure of his hips hitting me just right as his thick cock still slowly slides in and out.
But when the building pressure makes my back arch into him, feeling like I’m going to implode, he pulls back, leaving me wanting until our bodies are tangled in a new way and he slides into me once more.
Over and over again, he brings me to the pinnacle of pleasure, loving me like I said I needed.
Silent tears trail from the corners of my eyes, and my chest squeezes as he whispers soft words in my ear, promises that I know neither of us should make tonight.
He loves me, despite everything inside me that wants to break and mourn the version of me that won’t remember any of this, or the one that will never have it again.
When my limbs are shaking, and my chest heaving, unable to take the onslaught of physical and emotional bliss any longer, my hand wraps around his wrist, squeezing tight until his movements still.
“Weston, please.” My words are almost a whine, and I see a flicker of anguish in his eyes as he slides out of me, before turning me onto my back so our chests press together once more.
I almost feel like I will tip over the edge as his cock thrusts inside me once more, and I gasp at the shock that the contact with my swollen core sends through me.
His hands skate up my sides and push my arms above my head, his fingers tickling my skin until they lace between mine.
He squeezes my hands tightly, pressing them into the soft mattress above, and his nose strokes down the length of mine.
“Hold on to me.” His chest rumbles with the command, and I nod fiercely, squeezing his hands in mine and pinning my knees to his sides, drawing him even deeper. “Don’t ever let go.”
Our bodies move together, each movement in perfect harmony until we are consumed by moans and cries and whispers.
We’re all hands and tongues and hips, as the slow and tender rocking turns into frenzied, burning desire.
Pressure and heat build until I don’t think I can hold on any longer, and the voice that is my calm in all the chaos of my world and my mind breaks through the periphery.
“Let it go, Lennox. Come with me, my queen.”
My toes curl and my back arches, pushing my hips harder onto him as I come undone, fueled even harder by the fierce rock of Weston’s cock into me, and the feral roar into the crook of my neck as his hot release spills inside me.
Heat blooms in my belly and between my thighs as my limbs collapse, my fingers unable to move from squeezing his hands so tightly.
He releases my hands and cups my face, kissing me deeply, clutching me as if I’m going to disappear, before pulling back.
My eyes flutter open when I feel the light brush of his fingertips slide through my hair. His dark teal eyes are hooded as he simply watches me, or the remnants of me after he lit my entire body on fire and made me explode.
“What?” I murmur, and a soft smile plays on his lips.
He stays silent for a moment, his fingers still stroking the edge of my hair, leaving tingling trails on my forehead with every move.
“I always thought that when I left Dawnlin, I wouldn’t ever want to look back. All I would remember is this room, and this ship, and be reminded of how lonely I was despite being surrounded by a group of people I cared for and who cared for me.”
I stay silent, waiting for him to continue, not wanting to interrupt whatever confession he feels he needs to share.
“But now, this room has brought me some of the best memories of my life. Leaving now, I see only you.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I blink rapidly, cursing them when they fall. “I can’t take those away from you.”
His fingers stroke again, his hand shifting farther down so the pad of his thumb rubs across my cheek.
“But I would give them up for you, so that you could keep them. I’d give them up so you could have the future you always wanted.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat aching as my voice cracks. “You are the future I wanted, Weston.”
“Then we’ll figure out how to make it happen. I swear it.”
I nod quickly, my eyes never leaving his, but I have to clamp my jaw shut to hide the quivering.
He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before sliding out of me, and my body already aches with his absence.
Settling behind me, he tugs me against his front, wrapping me in his arms so one cages me across my chest. The other hand slides between my thighs, cupping me where I’m still throbbing and dripping from both of our releases, before he lets out a heavy sigh.
I close my eyes and clutch his forearm, nuzzling my head into the bulge of his muscles, when I feel the press of a kiss to the back of my head.
“We’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep. Everything will be alright, Lennox. I won’t stop until it is.”
I want to believe him, but nothing is ever that simple.
Not when you’re the queen.