Chapter 34
Thealina
It’s quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and rapid beats of my heart, thumping loud enough to drown out everything else. Rafe stands in front of me, his eyes on mine, the world shrinking in the space between us.
Only with my eyes do I ask him—stay, touch me, let me belong to something good, of my own choosing, even if for the night. Only with my eyes do I tell him—I bruise easily, so please be gentle.
And only with his eyes does he say, ‘You’re safe with me.’
His hand lifts, fingers brushing strands of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
His touch so careful it hurts. My breath catches, and when his thumb traces the curve of my cheek, something inside me breaks free.
I press my lips to his palm. It’s the first move I’ve made entirely for myself in longer than I can remember.
And it feels… like freedom.
He exhales, a rough, uneven sound, and leans in until his forehead rests against mine. His other hand finds my waist, splaying warm against my still clothed skin, and I close my eyes.
His fingers tremble when they hitch up the tunic past my hips, my waist, my breasts, tugging it over my head before he smoothes down my hair.
I stand before him, naked. And for the first time, he allows himself to look at me.
Really look at me. His gaze devours me. His jaw tics and his eyes smoulder, full of heat and want and need.
Though he holds himself with perfect stillness, like how a mountain lion would before they pounce on their prey.
His eyes track my movements—the dip of my waist, the fall of my hair, the rise of my round breasts growing heavier.
Air around me tightens beneath his searing attention.
No one’s ever looked at me like that.
I’ve been the prey of my husband for decades, but the way Rafe looks at me so predatory, so stripped bare, makes me want to sink to my knees and offer him my neck.
Reaching behind his back, he tugs his shirt off in one smooth motion, his tattooed muscles rippling with the movement, and tosses it to the side. My breaths become low and shallow watching him unbuckle his belt and pull his trousers down before kicking them, leaving him as bare as me.
I swallow. His stalking step toward me has the heat between my legs intensifying. Wetness pools there for the first time in a long while and I press my thighs together. He grips both sides of my face, his eyes asking if this is truly what I want.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
A tug on my finger pulls my gaze from his, he slides my wedding band off, tossing it to the side where the fire in the hearth swallows it whole.
The sounds of metaphoric chains breaking fades off in the distance.
His lips find mine as goosebumps erupt along my flesh while he runs his fingers down from the base of my throat, between my heaving breasts, down my stomach and stops at my pubic bone.
Gentle and unhurried. Soft, tender lips move like a question, asking again and again and again if this is what I want.
I thread my fingers into his hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss until my pulse merges with his and pounds in my ears.
‘Yes.’
The world falls away, stripped down to touch and taste and the burn of wanting something I can’t keep.
He lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing, carrying me to the bed, and every inch of me sings beneath his gaze, like I’m something precious, not something broken.
The mattress dips, and my skin prickles all over as his hands skim down my arms, splays across my ribs, my collarbones, my breasts, careful and slow, like he’s memorising the shape of me.
It dawns on me how starved I’ve been for tenderness.
How neglected my flesh has been, how my breasts ache to be engulfed and squeezed by his big hands.
When his lips trail down my throat, my breath stutters. Heat coils low in my belly, and for the first time in years, it isn’t born from fear or necessity, it’s born from want, need, and desire.
And it’s mine. All mine. This ache, this hunger clawing through me. It belongs to me.
My hips lift on their own accord, seeking him and the friction only he can give, and Rafe groans against my skin, his lips trailing a searing wet path to my needy breasts. I grip the back of his head, fisting his hair as he takes my hard nipple in his mouth.
I groan, no longer caring what kind of sounds I make. This is me.
And he wants me.
He devours each breast, each nipple, lifting me closer to the stars with each stroke of his tongue, bites of his teeth, squeeze of his hands. Never leaving an inch of skin that hasn’t been worshipped by his mouth.
My body is shaking by the time he continues a path down my torso, stopping at the swell of my stomach below my bellybutton. He pushes his face into my flesh, squeezing my waist before trailing further down, licking, sucking, nibbling.
“It’ll never be enough,” he groans into my skin.
Not once has he made me touch him. I want to tell him I’m scared.
So fucking scared, but that I’m grateful.
That he’s already ruined me in ways no one else ever could.
My thoughts don’t manifest in his mind, they won’t come out, so I let my body say it for me by trailing my fingertips down his spine, touching every part of him I can reach as his mouth consumes me like…
like he’s a man trying to remember the shapes, tastes and sounds of something, someone, he knows he’ll lose.
My heart threatens to rip from my chest the moment his wet mouth presses against my aching pussy.
He licks slow, languid strokes from bottom to top before sucking my clit into his mouth.
He does this over and over, the lewd sounds fill the space between us.
I cry out, my body growing tense, and hot.
The sparks of lightening erupting all over my fevered skin.
He eats me like a man starved, hand pressing into my lower stomach, fingers gripping my thighs keeping me open and wide for him, swearing obscenities against me because he can’t get enough. I’ve never been feasted on like this. Like I’m something delectable. Addictive. Craved.
“Fuck, you taste so good, Lina,” he groans before sucking me back into his mouth.
“Too fucking good.” Blood rushes to my core, my vision blurs, and my body arches as a gush of fluid pours from me, my moans rip from my throat, but Rafe laps me up.
Not wasting a drop as I jerk and twitch, the pulsing in my pussy never easing.
Sweat coats my top lip, and I tremble, all thoughts turn to mush, but I manage one.
‘More. I need to feel you.’
His breaths are ragged and eyes on fire as he cradles my face in both his palms.
“Look at me.” We get lost in each other’s orbit, forgetting everything that lays ahead of tonight. “Give me everything, Lina. Everything.”
His hand slides beneath me, hauling me up to his chest as he moves back to sit, arranging my legs so I straddle him. My body shudders feeling his hard cock rub against my sensitive flesh. His skin on mine burns, his eyes searing as he lines himself up at my wet, throbbing core.
He pauses, taking a breath before brushing his lips over mine, seemingly asking that question again.
‘Yes.’
Gripping my hips, he pushes inside me, it’s tight and deep, so deep—and I didn’t know I wasn’t ready for the way it feels. Not physically—it’s not pain—it’s the weight of what all this means.
This final thing that’ll belong to only an echo of us.
Because me going back, changing things, leaves only this. An echo.
My eyes sting. I blink fast, but one traitorous tear slips free.
Rafe sees it and cups my cheek. “Regret?”
I shake my head. ‘Neglect.’
His eyes grow a shade darker than I thought possible. He kisses the tear from my skin, then leans in so close his breath sweeps against my lips.
“Not tonight.”
Our lips crash in an overwhelming bid to consume and possess. This time I don’t freak out when his tongue devours me, I open, letting him in, letting him explore. He’s soft, and wet, and tastes so fucking good.
We move slow and desperate, clinging to every second like it’s not the last thread keeping us tethered to something real, moaning into each other’s open mouths, breathing new life into each other while simultaneously sucking out our souls.
His masculine groans and grunts vibrating in my ear is enough to shatter me.
“Wanna hear you, love.”
I’m safe in this sacred space he’s created, so I moan. Not caring if they’re a little muffled, raw and cut off. I moan so loud I’m sure I shake the lands of Eklin. I give him a true piece of me. It’s so good to be vocal. And to hear him too after decades of silence.
“Ahhh, there she is. You sound so pretty. Keep singing for me.”
My eyes roll. The ache deepens with every thrust, every grind, every kiss… every moan and whispered name.
‘Rafe.’
I press my face into his neck, breathe him in, memorise his scent, his skin on mine. The way his teeth bite into my shoulder. His hard against my soft, the shape of his arms around me, holding me so tight like I’m the one last thing stopping him from drowning.
We grind, thrust and rock. Stroke, kiss and cradle. Moan, groan and grunt. Our hands never quite grabbing enough to sate. Our breaths never quite catching up.
“Mine, Lina. Say your mine. Even if just in this echo.”
‘Yours, Rafe. I’m yours.’
Not just only in this echo.
‘Yours. Mine. Ours.’