Page 86 of Dual

Page List

Font Size:

“You have me,” I promise her, sealing the words with a kiss as my hands begin to wander down the curve of her back, pulling her closer until there’s no space between us. “All of me.”

Her legs wrap around my waist, and I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, rapid and strong.

I want to show her I can be gentle, too.

I don’t always have to be the dungeon master. She deserves to be worshipped in every way.

My lips find her neck, tasting salt and chlorine and her, always uniquely her. She tilts her head back, offering herself to me with a trust that makes my chest ache.

“Please,” she whispers, the word barely audible over the soft lap of water against the pool’s edge.

I want to take my time with her—to worship every inch of her body properly—but there’s an urgency in her movementsthat I can’t deny. My hands find her thighs, supporting her weight as she positions herself above me, her expression shifting to one of focused determination.

“Look at me,” I command softly, needing to see her eyes, to know it’s her—all her—with me in this moment.

She does, holding my gaze as she sinks down, taking me inside her with a gasp that echoes across the empty desert. I grip her hips, guiding her movements as I watch every flicker of pleasure cross her face.

“That’s it, love,” I murmur, voice rough with need. “Show me what you want.”

The water creates a gentle resistance around us, slowing our movements to a deliberate rhythm that builds the tension exquisitely. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, anchoring herself as she rocks against me, finding her own pleasure with a confidence that makes my blood pound.

As we move together in the water, the rest of the world falls away—no past, no future, just this moment. Just Anna and me, wrapped in each other as the desert sky stretches endlessly above us, painted in deepening shades of gold and crimson. Her skin glows in the fading light, water droplets sliding down her throat, between her breasts, catching fire in the sunset.

My control slips as she tightens around me, her movements growing more insistent. I tangle one hand in the back of her hair, tugging gently to expose her throat to my mouth. I lick the pulse point there, feeling it race against my tongue.

“Let go,” I tell her, commanding even in this vulnerable moment. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

She breaks with a cry that echoes off the surrounding rocks, her body shuddering against mine. The sight of her—head thrown back, lips parted, completely abandoned to pleasure—pushes me over the edge.

I pull her closer, burying my face against her neck as I thrust deep and come.

For long moments afterward, we stay entwined, our breathing gradually slowing as the water settles around us. Her forehead rests against mine, eyes closed, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“I love you,” I whisper against her skin, pressing kisses to her temple, her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth. “All of you.”

And in this moment, with her body still joined with mine and her breath warm against my lips, I believe it’s enough. That we’re enough. That whatever storm is brewing on the horizon, we’ll weather it together.

Because that’s the promise I made—the one I’ll keep making, every day, for the rest of our lives.

The desert sky deepens to indigo above us, the first stars appearing like distant witnesses to our union. Anna’s eyes find mine again, something profound and unspoken passing between us. In this sanctuary carved from stone, I feel more certain than ever that what we’ve built together—complicated and messy as it may be—is unbreakable.

Let the world try to tear us apart. They’ll never succeed.

TWENTY-EIGHT

ANNA

The morning lightfilters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our suite at Amangiri, painting the concrete walls with golden stripes. Domhnall’s side of the bed is empty, the sheets cool to the touch. I sit up slowly, listening for him, but the only sound is the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the distant call of a desert bird.

“Mads?” I whisper into the emptiness, my voice barely audible even to myself. “Are you there?”

Nothing. Not even an echo of her signature sarcasm or irritation.

I’ve been doing this every morning since we arrived at this stunning desert sanctuary two weeks ago, hoping that maybethe change of scenery and the distance from Dallas and all its complications might somehow shift something inside me.

But each morning brings the same hollow silence… and the same sinking feeling in my stomach.

I obviously couldn’t risk staying at home after the last attack, especially when it was clear the tattooed man had been taking orders from someone else. But I couldn’t imagine leaving Domhn, either. I need Mads. I can’t seem to make any decision one way or another without her. I’m the weak one. The one who hides.