Page 15 of Blood Currents
“Aren’t I?”His thumb traced across my cheekbone, the touch achingly gentle.“How long before the world forces us to choose?How long before what we are becomes a liability we can’t afford?”
I wanted to argue, to promise him we’d find a way.But the fear in his voice was real, and dismissing it wouldn’t help either of us.
Instead, I leaned down and kissed him.
It was supposed to be gentle, grounding.A reminder that whatever else was smoke and shadow, this was solid.But the moment our lips met, something splintered.Desperation surged between us, and his hands slid into my hair like he needed something real to hold on to.
“Mari,” he breathed against my mouth, and my name sounded like both prayer and apology.
“I know,” I whispered back.“I know.”
He tasted like regret and longing.Like secrets swallowed too long.I reached for the buttons of his shirt, pushing aside silk and charm and all the careful layers he wore like armor.
We moved toward the couch, shedding pretense with every piece of clothing.He kissed me like I was the only truth he had left, every press of his lips aching with things he wouldn’t say.His illusions were gone, stripped bare, and for a few heartbeats I felt him fully—sharp and scared and aching.
When he’d removed my clothes, he paused, studying me in the starlight filtering through the dome above us.“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.“Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real.”
“I’m real,” I said, helping him pull off his shirt.I traced the smooth muscle along his shoulders.“This is real.We are real.”
He laid me down like he was handling something sacred.Every movement was intentional, careful, reverent—as if he didn’t trust himself to keep this if he moved too fast.His fingers traced across my ribs, my waist, mapping the details like he expected them to disappear when the lights went out.
“I love the way you shiver when I touch you here,” he whispered against my collarbone, his lips finding that sensitive spot that made me gasp.“The way you say my name when you want more.”
He kissed his way across my breasts, taking each nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue across it.Each bit of skin was tender, and each touch lit me up.
“Elio,” I whispered, and he made a sound that was half-laugh, half-break.
One of his hands slipped between my thighs, stroking my clit and pulling gasps from me.“I love the sounds you make when I touch you.”
I met his gaze, letting him see everything he was doing to me.How honest we could be when it was just him, just me.I arched against his fingers as they played me until I was wet, wanting, and needy.
“Elio.”I moaned.
His smile was fragile, brittle at the edges.Not performance—not this time.He finished getting undressed and nudged apart my thighs, moving between them.His hands cradled my hips with careful pressure, as if afraid I might vanish under him.
“I need you,” he whispered as he positioned himself at my entrance, his forehead resting against mine.“Right now, at this moment, I need you to know how much you mean to me.”
The intensity in his voice made my chest tight.“Show me,” I said softly.
When he entered me, it wasn’t with hunger.It was with reverence.He moved inside me like someone trying not to wake a dream.He kissed me like every inch of skin was a memory he needed to steal.
We found a rhythm, one that wasn’t about urgency but connection.Each thrust felt like a tether, a grounding point between illusion and reality.His breath stuttered against my skin, and his hands trembled where they held mine.
“Look at me,” I said as we moved together.“I want to see you.”
He met my gaze, and everything he was trying to hide spilled out.Grief.Want.Guilt.Love.The illusion shimmered and fell.For just that moment, there was no heir, no polished mask.Just Elio.
“I love you,” I said, the words coming out fiercer than I’d intended.“Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re afraid of—I love you.”
Something broke in his expression then.The last of his walls crumbled as he buried his face in my neck and held me like I was the only thing keeping him anchored to earth.
When I came apart beneath him, it was with his name on my lips.He followed moments later, my name a broken prayer as he shattered in my arms, his body trembling with the force of his release.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, our breathing gradually slowing.His fingers traced lazy patterns on my skin—my shoulder, the curve of my waist, the line of my spine.
“I wish we could stay like this,” he murmured into my hair, his arms tightening around me.
“We can,” I said, though something cold was starting to settle in my stomach.“For as long as we want.”
