Page 11

Blade

I’ve had endless dreams about this very moment, so many I’ve long since lost count of them.

Dreams of Bella and me just riding through the night, the darkness like a velvet cloak around us, the stars our only guide.

Her arms around my waist, holding me tight, her scent woken by the night air and the wind of our passage.

All those dreams came back to me when she mentioned wanting to see the stars. Just the fact that she remembered that was priceless. And this ride as we search for them is already all those dreams coming true.

We finally find them atop one of the hills overlooking the vast, dark Pacific Ocean. Not in the best part of town—an openly Aryan MC has set up shop not far from here—but with her I am invincible. For her, I am invincible. That’s proven to be the truth many times.

And as I lay her down on the blanket that I’m now sure I kept in my saddle bags for exactly this night, I know that truth in every cell and fiber of my being.

“You’re so beautiful in starlight,” she says as she brushes her soft, warm fingers across my cheek.

“Nowhere near as beautiful as you,” I counter, wishing I could find something profound to say to her. But those words will come too. When they are needed. Because words are not needed now.

What I need now is to feel her, to touch and kiss her, to make her mine the way she’s always already been mine. In all ways, shapes, forms, in a way that knows no such limitations of time and space. In a way that is as right and perfect as drawing breath.

As our lips meet for the first kiss I feel like I’ve been holding my breath that I can finally release now. Finally let go of. Finally draw a fresh one.

But it’s not air I need. I need her and only her.

She kisses me back with a fire she’s been denying us until now. That fire that lives deep inside her and is bright enough to keep us both warm, hot, moving forward.

She’s tugging at my jacket, pulling up my shirt, silently urging me to take them both off.

I oblige willingly. Continue by removing her jacket and shirt.

Then her pants and mine. Then her bra and my boxers and finally her panties.

It’s too dark here to see very clearly, but I see her perfectly anyway, in my mind.

Under my touch and my kisses, she is perfectly formed, aglow in a light all her own, more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen. Or will ever see. Or taste. Or touch.

I want all of her, taste all of her, touch all of her. The need rises in me like lava needing to break the surface and engulf the earth. I’ve denied, deflected and tried to destroy this need for the past ten years. And it’s that much stronger for that.

But then she slides her hand down my chest and caresses my rock-hard cock as she somehow deepens the kiss we’ve been sharing. And I finally snap out of my lofty thoughts and into the here and now. Stop thinking and start doing.

Kiss her lips and her cheeks, her neck and her breasts, bury her under me so there’s practically no space between us, every beat of her racing heart pulsing and tingling across my skin.

“I need you inside me so bad,” she whispers, her voice cracking, proving the truth of her words, the depth of her yearning. Which is also my own.

I don’t think about anything but how I’m the luckiest guy in the world as I slide my cock into her willing pussy, her body opening for me—accepting me—the way only she can.

I was sure I’d only be good for a few thrusts. Sure, the need I’ve kept buried for so long would show no patience.

But this isn’t just about me. It’s about the both of us. It’s about her too. And my body knows this very well, remembers very well.

Each thrust, each pull back brings such pure pleasure it’s almost painful. Her nails are digging into my back, scratching as she urges me on, between moans, whimpers, and sweet little shrieks as I pick up the pace.

I feel all of her all around me, inside and out. And yet I need more, even as I know this pleasure is already more than I’ve ever experienced.

There’s no explaining how she makes me feel. So I’ll just stop trying. I’ll just live it, just experience it. She’s the one who taught me how to do that. It’s time to show her how well I remember.

Her moans are vibrating like the sweetest, greatest music, booming near my heart as I pick up the pace. I feel her release, the explosion of her orgasm, like a wave that starts in my cock but travels all through me more destructive than a tsunami.

There’s no holding back my own orgasm after that.

And destruction is not the right word for it.

But I won’t ruin this perfect moment trying to think of a better word.

I’ll just feel it.

We’ll just feel it.

And I’m sure she’d tell me the same thing if she could hear my thoughts.

I wrap my arms around her and she does the same. Stars are shining bright above us, reflected in her eyes as she gazes at them.

“Thank you,” she whispers and I’m pretty sure she’s not aware of having spoken that aloud.

“For what?” I ask.

“For taking me back,” she says. “For not forgetting me.”

“You’ve never left my heart,” I say. “And there never was any forgetting you.”

Her eyes look like the ocean reflecting the stars now, choppy, wavy, eternal.

But her kiss is as firm and sweet as anything I’ve ever tasted.

“I’ll never hurt you again,” she says. “I’ll die first.”

“That would hurt me the most.”

“I know,” she says then kisses me again. So deeply and completely I forget even the need to breathe. And it almost wipes away the crushing fear the thought of her dying brought.

I still don’t understand why she thought she needed to stay away from me for the past ten years. But I’m starting to believe I don’t need the answer to that question at all. I just need her in my arms and in my life. Everything else is just noise.