Page 125 of Fighting With Light
She smiles and grips my hair, tugging me to her lips.
“Yes, you do. You’re the only one that can take the pain that comes with it.”
I shake my head and drag my crooked nose against her perfect one. I have never pretended to be good. I have been and always will be willing to do whatever it takes to protect my family. I willalwaysdo the hard thing for them.
“I don’t understand how you know who I am and still wantme,” I whisper.
Her hands come to my cheeks and she kisses me, slipping her tongue into my mouth, pulling me away from the perceived reality we live in. Right now it’s me and her. There is nothing else, no one else. We are the only ones in the world.
“We are two halves of a bloody, dark whole, Liam. The things we’ve both done were not out of malice, but love. That heart of yours is simply too soft to be bad. Love is your motivator, and that’s all that matters to me.”
Unable to take it anymore, I dive into her. Our bodies press together and it’s like the change of the tide. It’s gradual, but evident. Love fills the spaces between us with short gasps and sighs as I feel her soft skin beneath my rough palms.
Aelia whines into my mouth, lifting her hips, silently begging me for what she wants. “I love you,” she whimpers.
“I love you,” I rasp, grabbing her knee. She lifts both, locking her ankles at my spine.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Always,” I murmur, tasting her sweetness and rock into her.
She moans as we move. I look down in the dim blue moonlight reflecting off her face as she absorbs the feeling of us together.
“More,” she groans. I slide my hand under her lower back and she locks her thighs at my hips, tensing her muscles, squeezing me as I sit us up. Aelia gasps with the new position and I bite her chin, silently asking for her lips. She grips the back of my neck, holding onto me tightly, swirling her hips, as soft pants brush my cheeks with every press of her chest against mine.
“C’est ça mon amour,”that’s it, my love,I mutter.
She moans in my ear and I flip us again, lifting her leg over my shoulder. Aelia sobs out and I grab her hands, holding them above her head. Our fingers link tightly together as I grind my hips against hers.
“Ma reine,”my queen,I grunt out at the edge of myself.
Her back arches and her chin tilts back as she comes apart beneath me. My hips stutter as I shatter above her.
Releasing her hands, I catch myself on my elbows and she sighs, dragging her nails up and down my ribs. My arm is sore and burning with the stitches holdingthe skin together, but I ignore it. It’s going to burn even more when I’m in salt water tomorrow.
Aelia hums, kissing me again and I kiss her back, filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for someone that accepts me as I am. Rolling to my side, I pull her into my chest and her lips burn memories into my sweaty skin.
I give in to the exhaustion that has started to pull me into the deep throws of sleep.
“What did you say?” she asks.
I hum and hug her tighter.
“Earlier,” she says.
“My queen,” I murmur and kiss the top of her head.
“If I’m your queen, then you are my king,” she says into my chest.
I chuckle and shake my head, prying my eyes open.
“No baby, I am your soldat,”I mutter.
She’s quiet for a moment and I’m almost asleep again when she says, “You’re not my soldier. That doesn’t work at all.”
I groan and she says, “Tu sei il mio tutto, il mio soldato, il mio re, il mio cuore.”You are my everything, my soldier, my king, my heart.Her lips press to my heart as I think through her words. Italian is close to French, and it takes me a second to put what she’s saying together.
“You are my everything, too, baby.”
