Page 43 of Bound By Destiny

If my hazy memories are right, last time I was the one who was the most outgoing. I initiated our kiss, I took his entirety in my mouth, I rode on top of him. It was incredible for me, especially for a woman whose sexual experiences were but a long list of tedious encounters.

But when I snapped out of my lust-infused folly, I have to admit I felt more than a little insecure. I wasn’t sure how much Dane wanted me, even if he certainly did react with enthusiasm to my bold advances.

Today I learned that he and I are tied together by the red string of Fate. Even if it’s reassuring in a way to know Dane will always be mine in one form or another, it also terrifies me. How can I tell the difference between what he wants as a man, and what’s driven by his instinct to mate? Or is there even a difference at all?

And I know it’s petty of me, but I can’t help but envy the woman he loved so long ago, Isobel. I don’t resent her – far from it. I understand that Dane would most likely not even be here right now, if Isobel hadn’t come along and changed his views. She kept him happy for a while too, and for that I’m so grateful.

But Danechoseto love Isobel… And damn it, I want him to choose me too. Not to be forced to bond to me because some higher instance decided it should be that way.

As I gaze at the man smiling at me so adoringly right now, I realize I’m being greedy. He’s trying his best to make me feel cherished with his touches and kisses, where words fail.I have to be happy with what I’ve got, I tell myself,which is already so much.

Too bad if I never have the confirmation that Dane likes me of his own accord. Some things in life remain unchecked, I’m starting to understand. And this may very well be a ride I’ll have to board without passing safety protocols first.

“Thanks,” I say, as some strong emotion swells in my chest.

Dane lands a peck on my nose and immediately proceeds to slither his fingers into my panties. I close my eyes, resisting the urge to return the gift. Today Dane wants to indulge me, and I appreciate the gesture.

One calloused finger slides into my entrance, followed by a second one. I gasp when he finds the tiny nub that drives me wild. He plays it with adroitness I’ve never achieved, twirling with just the right cadence to make my head spin, along with the odd tweak so I’m always on edge.

Soon my underwear is but a forgotten memory, as he nudges my thighs apart to explore me with his tongue. At this point I’m too far gone to be modest. I just grab a handful of Dane’s hair and chant his name, internally or out loud I’m not sure, bucking from the warm, slick attentions on my sensitive folds.

“My sweet Destiny,” I hear him say. Pleasure seeps into my very bones that he calls me his. “I’m going to make you feel so good...”

I can only agree when he flicks the bud of my arousal. While I was used to Dane’s powerful thrusts, this is a whole new experience. He touches me in the most vulnerable way. Disarming, coming from a man like Dane, who’s always been a little rough around the edges.

It starts with a tickle and a flutter in my lower belly. Then it builds into a sense of urgency, like an itch that really needs to be scratched. I can no longer think, no longer distinguish Dane’s individual moves from the overall burn.

Soon I’m dropping from infinite heights, like we’re crashing head-first into the unknown. In our fall, I’m weightless, as if I’m rising out of my seat. I shriek, clutching onto Dane for dear life. Through my closed lids, those electrical sparks detonate again, like miniature fireworks.

His tongue disappears. I’m left heaving, trembling, satisfied to the very core… yet something is still missing. I sigh with relief when his length enters me. Last time I was so out of my mind, I didn’t notice he was slightly larger than I’d usually feel comfortable with. Yet my flesh stretches to accommodate him until I couldn’t possibly feel more perfectly, wonderfully filled. I’m brimming with everything Dane, saturated with the very essence of him.

With every thrust he meets my every need – only to create more ardent ones. I guide him with my hips, pull him closer so he can plunge deep and hard. The small nub he awakened so titillatingly with his fingers and his tongue throbs with the red-level threat of a nuclear button.

My fingers ding into his shoulders, struggling to hold on even if I know it’s already too late. I wish we could go on forever like this, but I’m losing this battle. So I let myself go. I tighten myself around him and ride the wave, wracked with thrilling tremors. The connection between us that each of Dane’s touches wove together reaches its culmination: for one split second, Dane, me, this precise moment in time all merge together.

Blinding light and then, all of a sudden, nothing – as if gravity was no longer in the equation and we just drifted in a pool of bliss. Every part of me that tingled so ardently moments ago goes numb. Dane scoops me into his arms. I bury my head against his warmth. Strong unsteady fingers brush my hair away, and his hot lips tickle my ear:

“I can’t wait until my forever with you, Destiny.”

Dane

Ismile so much over the next few days, the muscles in my mouth are sore. Warwick keeps asking Destiny whether she’s hiding the real me in a dark cellar and created a clone as a replacement. Apparently the theory is more plausible than me being in a good mood.

But what can I do other than smile? At long last, I’m grateful for the past. Excited by the future. And enamored with the present.

“Wherever you’re keeping my brother hostage, leave him there, okay?” Warwick tells her one day at lunch. “This guy is a lot better.”

Should I be offended that my brother wouldn’t save me if I were being kept prisoner by some nefarious scientist? I laugh, shaking my head in wry amusement. I know he’s just pulling my leg. I have no doubt Warwick would rescue me in a heartbeat no matter what.

Destiny, however, isn’t totally in on the joke. “No, really,” she argues with an awkward grin, “I haven’t done anything to your brother. This is just the way he is. Beats me too.”

Warwick’s brows shoot so high, they nearly disappear into his hairline. “No mystery there. He’s just in lo–”

With a deadly glare, I land a kick beneath the table. Warwick gawks at me in indignation, but at least he doesn’t say anything more.

I haven’t said the ‘L word’ yet, and I sure as hell don’t want my brother to steal it away from me.

“Don’t mind my husband,” Luciana blurts, sensing the awkward moment and jumping in to fill it. “He has a hard time being serious sometimes.”

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