Page 54 of Love Me Darkly
“Yes!” she cried out, the beginnings of yet another orgasm tearing her up inside. “Yes, Mateo!”
He groaned and fell against her until they were connected at nearly every possible point—his hand around her wrists, his lips on hers, chest to breasts, belly to belly, his cock lodged deep and drilling its way deeper.
“That’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he rasped right before she spiraled up out of the plane of mortality and into eternity.
The world around her went dark, shrinking itself by degrees until there was only Mateo, pumping into her while she sobbed and clawed his back. Now she was the one unraveling, falling apart, shattering into tiny pieces of glass in his palm. He held onto her as if unaffected by her sharp edges, the shards threatening to tear him to shreds. He leaned into the danger, into the uncertainty of her lies, the darkness of the world closing them in from all sides. He wrapped his arms around her and shuddered, the hot streams of his finish flooding her in a rush.
Mateo went limp on top of her, his heavy breaths mingling with her harsh pants in the quiet of the room, arms wrapped tight around her like bands of steel. She couldn’t have escaped them if she wanted to, her body weakened into complete stillness. Melody closed her eyes and allowed herself to register every sensation taking hold of her body, wanting to remember every detail for the rest of her life. The sweet soreness of her inner thighs and between her legs. The sting of whatever his zipper had left behind on her skin. The lethargy stealing the strength from her limbs. The dizzying sensation of drifting back to earth after being carried straight up into heaven.
Mateo shifted his weight until he was on his side next to her. His warmth leeched away from her skin, leaving her torn between chasing his heat and diving under the comforter to cover herself now that it was over. Now that she was coming back to herself, she felt rubbed raw and exposed, more vulnerable than she’d ever been to another person. Panic welled in her throat as she realized what she had allowed to happen. Her feet were nearly on the floor before Mateo took hold of her arm, pulling her back into bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, pulling her back against his chest.
She stiffened, suddenly desperate to be away from him. Her body wasn’t the only thing he had mastered. It wasn’t the only thing he had broken open and claimed. She shivered despite the heat of Mateo sinking into her skin. But he only held her tighter, maneuvering them both so he could cover them with the blanket.
“You’re not fighting tonight, remember?” he murmured against the back of her neck between sweet, drugging kisses. His hand splayed possessively against her lower belly, keeping her anchored. “I have you, Melody. You’re safe.”
She was too tired, too weak and sated to argue with him. And, God, it felt so good to finally let go and stop thinking so much. Her exhaustion was more mental than physical, but now that her body had been satisfied, her mind had quieted as well. Drowsiness pulled at the edges of her consciousness. Mateo’s breathing slowed, and hers matched it, until they lay together in almost complete silence.
Mateo’s hands roamed, but not with any urgency. He stroked his fingers down her bare arm and intertwined his fingers with hers. He kissed the back of her hand and her shoulder. He pressed his nose into her hair and inhaled. Tiny intimacies anchoring her to him and to the moment.
As she drifted off toward sleep, he kissed the top of her head and murmured, “You’re safe, baby girl. I’m here, and I would burn this entire fucking world down for you.”
And despite her experience and fears, despite the realities that told her he had chosen the wrong woman to devote his passion to, Melody believed him.
Mateo opened his eyes to the sweet sight of Melody’s sleeping face. The sun had set beyond the window, casting the room into almost complete darkness. Enough moonlight filtered through that he could make out the fan of her eyelashes, the slope of her nose, the soft pillow of her mouth, and the dainty point of her chin. The white comforter had fallen almost to her waist, and when he trailed his fingertip over her naked arm, he found goosebumps. He snatched the blanket up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her forehead. With a languid stretch, he left the bed and stepped back into his jeans. A glance at the clock revealed that it was almost nine p.m. They had only slept for a few hours, but Mateo felt rejuvenated. He was wide awake as he crossed to the bathroom to use the toilet.
His mind wandered over the preceding hours, the freshness of them keeping every image, every word, every breath in sharp focus. He had been too damned satisfied after having Melody again, too comforted by her nearness and her scent, to feel anything else in the moments following. Once she had fallen asleep in his arms, Mateo had quickly followed, finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had been weighing him down for days. If he had dreamed anything, he couldn’t recall it, and that rarely happened after a nightmare.
Peaceful sleep. He had forgotten what it felt like, even for just the length of a decent nap.
The contentment of that realization vanished as his heart nosedived into his gut. Before tonight, Mari was the only woman he had shared a bed with in over a decade. And falling into a drunken stupor beside his flavor of the month in his twenties had been nothing compared to curling up with Mari in the shelter of his body. He only had to close his eyes to imagine it, her curled up against him, her fingers laid over the hand gripping her waist. Her hair, always arranged in a single braid for bed, would tickle his chin and his nose as he lowered his head. When she wanted him to raise that hand and cup her breast, she arched her back. When she wanted him to do more than hold her, she would shift her hips and press against his groin. When she was feeling especially loving, she would turn and face him, burying her face in his chest.
Now, when he closed his eyes to imagine it, the memory was tainted. Because now he could too easily drift toward Melody in his thoughts—her body against his, her scent in his nostrils, her heartbeat tethered to the cadence of his.
“Mateo?”
Her sleepy voice reached out to him from the bedroom, drawing him back into his body. The moment of reverence and guilt fell away as he turned to follow her siren’s call.
“Hey,” he said, flicking on the bedside lamp before easing back into bed with her. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
To his surprise, she didn’t resist when he reached for her. She let him pull her into his side, and then compliantly lowered her head to his chest when he gave her a little nudge. She was stiff, as if she didn’t know how to simply lie with her lover and enjoy his closeness. Much time couldn’t have passed between her running away from home and being swept up in sex trafficking. He was willing to bet she’d never wanted to linger in bed with many, if any, of the men who had paid to use her body. She would grow used to it with him.
“Mmm,” she mumbled sleepily. “I haven’t slept that well in a while.”
“Me either.”
He caught a handful of her braids and ran them through his fingers. She began sinking against him, bringing a tentative hand to his chest. He placed one of his over it and squeezed her fingers.
“Will you stay the night?” he asked.
A pause. “Do you want me to?”
He smiled. “Would I have asked if I didn’t?”
“Is this some kind of interrogation tactic, answering all my questions with questions?”
He chuckled, urging her chin up so he could kiss her. “No, but this is. Give me your secrets.”
