Second Debt
Page 40I knew where he was. He was in the dark abyss—the depth of pain where he normally lived. Only in the darkness existed stars and comets and lightning bolts just waiting to shatter and shower us with light.
“Give me everything…” My legs curled around his hips, driving him up the final cliff. I impaled myself as hard and as deep as I could.
“Christ.” His face tensed. He gave up.
I followed him.
Our rhythm turned frenzied, fucking and rutting and taking everything we could.
“I’m with you,” I murmured just as my orgasm stole my voice and hurled me into the cacophony of explosions.
Jethro’s eyes opened; we drowned in each other. His golden irises glimmered with everything he couldn’t say. The truth was a blazing thing, sharpening the bands of release, twisting my orgasm into something catastrophic.
I screamed.
It was the only thing I could do to expel the pleasure inside.
I was swept away on a galaxy of popping stars. Starburst after starburst, comet after comet. I shattered utterly and completely.
Jethro cried out, pressing his forehead against mine as hotness spilled inside. His body quaked as wave after wave of cum filled me. The tender ache in my womb both calmed and strengthened, welcoming him into my body.
He’d come inside me.
For the first time.
On some basic level, I owned him. He’d mixed himself with me. He could never take that back.
He was mine as much as I was his.
Now and for always.
Something else could be yours for being so stupid.
I could get pregnant.
Not now.
It seemed as if our release went on forever, but it was only a few moments. A few scrumptious moments that healed and broke us.
After the ebbs of orgasm faded, I uncramped my toes and sighed.
Jethro unlocked his arms and withdrew. Wetness slid down my inner thigh as I puddled down his heated body. I could barely stand.
Jethro shivered, tucking his glistening cock back into his boxer-briefs and zipping up his trousers. He was pulling away already. There was no chance I would let him. He couldn’t give me what he did and then shut down.
Straightening my dress and scooping my knickers and dirk from the floor, I said, “You know, don’t you?”
He stilled. “Know what?”
“What I was thinking about as you found me.”
I wasn’t prepared for the way his face softened or how his eyes turned into a warm sunrise of caring. “Yes. I know.”
My heart pitter-pattered with fear. Would he use it as a tool to hurt me further or would he honour that my feelings were sacred and not to be toyed with?
He ran a hand through his hair before cupping my cheek and smiling sadly. “Thank you, Nila. Thank you for what you’ve just given me.”
With a single kiss and a heavy sigh, he disappeared.
THAT NIGHT I had no urge to see Jasmine.
No urge to fix myself or try to find my ice.
I had no desire to change or hide or do any manner of things I’d done all my life to exist within my household.
I was grateful.
Beyond thankful.
I’d felt it.
I’d lived it.
She’d poured the truth down my throat and taken all the wrongness inside away.
I’d never been so happy than when I’d slid inside her. Never been so completely content holding her in my arms.
I lay in bed and smiled, just for the beauty of smiling.
I was at peace…for the first time.
The only time.
I was just…me.
Jasmine was right.
Nila had the power to cure me.
She held something that after today I doubted I could ever live without.
To be cared for so deeply.
To be wanted so fiercely.
Despite all my faults and downfalls, she welcomed me.
She gave me a sanctuary deep enough and pure enough to hide in.
My eyes burned with thanks. I wanted to shower her with gifts and promises. I relived the intoxicating joy of finding something so treasured.
You came inside her.
It was perfect. I had to come inside her. I wouldn’t change a thing.
Being with Nila today had allowed me to demolish my walls—be strong enough to drop my guard and take her with nothing bared.
I gave her the truth.
The truth of who I was.
And in return, she gave me the strength to believe there might be a way after all.
I might not have to continue hiding.
I might finally be free.
MY OLD HEART was broken.
It’d been replaced with something not of flesh and blood but diamond and immortality.
I’d fallen for a smuggler, a biker—a fiend.
I’d fallen for a boy from my past, a man from my future—a friend.
For four days after the polo match, I didn’t see Jethro. I didn’t try to find him or turn on my phone to message him. We had things to talk about¸ but I liked the newly blossomed connection too much to overthink it.
I missed him but understood him.
Understood what he’d be going through.
For four days, I spent most of my time sewing and cutting out patterns for a sequence of gowns that would be the headline pieces of my new design. On a daily basis, my mind hurled profanities at me; reminding me that I lived on borrowed time. That the Hawks were not to be trusted. That I should run and never look back.