"Open your eyes, my love," he whispered.
Her eyes flew open to see him leaning over her, his lavender eyes bright.
"My love?"
"How could I not love the crazy female who kneed me to prove that I wouldn't hurt her? How could I not love the woman who is willing to descend into hell rather than lose me? I have so very little to offer you, not even a certain future, and you give to me at every turn--your trust, your faith, your body. How could I not love you?" He buried his face between her neck and her shoulder.
"I've loved you for so long," she sobbed. It felt like a dream having him here with her. She wrapped her arms around his head and her legs around his waist. She would never let him go.
He pulled back to look down at her. "I wish I could give you more."
She sniffed and let her tears fall over her temples. "All I have ever wanted was you."
"I don't deserve you."
She began to protest, and he kissed her lightly on the lips. "I don't. I know this. But Goddess willing, I will have enough time on this Earth to make up for the sadness I have caused you."
"I wish I had found you a month ago," she whispered.
When he realized she was referring to her conception cycle, his eyes filled with tears. "I can do no less than try to hold on for the next year. Nothing could honor me more than for you to have my child."
"I'll hold you to that, princess." She smiled.
His eyes danced, and he leaned down to nip her collarbone, making her laugh. "We need to talk about this nickname you've given me."
"I like it." She grinned.
"You need a nickname, too, then," he said, kissing her neck.
She sighed. "I have one."
He pulled back and looked down at her. "What is it?"
She shook her head. "Nope, I'm never telling you. I'll never hear the end of it."
His smile was wicked. "I'll find out." He reached down, and seconds later, she felt him begin to push inside of her. She lifted her hips to end his slow impalement. He kept eye contact and chuckled. "None of that. You've been in control all your life; it's my turn."
Inch by inch, as he stretched her, she realized two things: One: Sex toys couldn't compare to the heated flesh that she felt. Two: She should have been using larger toys. She was just about to tell him to stop when her body stretched again, accommodating his size. She breathed out a sigh of relief.
His eyes were filled with concern. "Are you well? Should I stop?"
"You stop and I'll kill you. Just give me a second to adjust."
His eyes crinkled when he smiled, and he kissed the tip of her nose. "Trust me?"
She nodded. He took her at her word. He leaned down and bit her neck as he plunged deep into her. The pain from the bite turned the burning sensation from his stretching her into pleasure, and her body short-circuited between the pain and pleasure.
"Gods! Yes! More, Gods, more!"
With a deliberate rhythm, he worked his body in and out of hers, each thrust causing them both to cry out. She had never felt so strung out like this. The time he spent not touching her had built up her desire to unimaginable proportions. Each time he didn't touch her intensified a hundred fold the times he did.
When he began to increase his pace, she knew he was close. He reached between them and placed a finger on either side of her clit. Every time his hips surged forward, he stroked her with his movements. When he threw back his head and roared his release, she easily followed him.
For a few seconds, they enjoyed the feeling of being intertwined before he pulled out of her. Grinning like a schoolboy, he stared down at her. Breathing heavily, she flipped him off. Laughing, he headed toward the bathroom and came back with a washcloth.
He cleaned her gently, kissing her belly and using his finger to tickle her opening. When she clutched down involuntarily, she groaned. She would be feeling this tomorrow. He disposed of the washcloth in the bathroom, returned to bed, and pulled her into the curve of his body.
"It's so quiet," he murmured.
"I thought so, too, after visiting your room." She yawned and snuggled into his chest.
"You'll move to my room tomorrow."
"Oh, I will, huh?" She poked at his side, making him laugh.
He pulled back so he could look her in the eye. "Would you do me the honor of moving into my quarters?"
"Yes, my prince." She yawned again and got comfortable. For the first time since meeting him, she fell asleep hopeful of the future.
*****
Amelia woke the next morning to soft kisses on her face. When she opened her eyes, Darian was smiling down at her. "Morning, sleepyhead."
"What time is it?" She sat up and saw that he was already dressed in his black fatigues.
"Not even seven. Breakfast is at eight. I thought you'd like time to get ready." The difference in him was amazing. There was life in his eyes, and he hadn't stopped smiling.
"You look..."
He laughed. "I hardly recognize myself. I woke up this morning and the darkness was nearly gone. I haven't felt this good in years."
"So it's still there?"
He nodded. "Maybe it will always be there, which means you will have to help me keep it at bay." He grinned at her and tugged at the sheet covering her body.
"Darian! Horndog! What have I created?" She jumped from the bed and ran into the bathroom.