What I also knew was that I really, really needed to call my Mom.
Shakily, I got up and left the fried chicken, the pulverized wine glass and that’s exactly what I did.
Chapter Thirteen
The Dream
I finally understood.
As my head lifted, my legs slid open, his h*ps fell between and my arms wrapped around him tight as if they’d never let go.
And I never wanted to let him go.
Never. Not for eternity.
My mouth sought his ear.
“I understand,” I whispered, the budding beauty of it flowing through me.
Lucien’s tongue swept across the wound where he was feeding.
His head came up, his beautiful eyes boring into mine, his blazing with triumph and searing into me like a brand.
His hands moved to my hips, lifting, his mouth came down on mine in a bruising, possessive kiss and he filled me.
Through his claiming thrusts, my mouth against his, I breathed lovingly, “I’m yours.”
* * * * *
“Leah.”
Hands were on me, my lover’s hands but they weren’t touching me in a loverly way.
“Leah, wake up.”
* * * * *
“Say it again,” Lucien snarled but I’d lost track.
I was so full of him; I’d never been so filled. It was beautiful, so beautiful I started crying.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his hand in my hair pulling my head back, not gently, the pain mingled with the pleasure of his claiming.
“I’m yours,” I whispered, my eyes focusing on his. “Only yours. Always.”
* * * * *
I was rolled, I felt weight on me, a hand on my arm shaking me.
“Leah, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”
* * * * *
He melted away. He wasn’t inside me anymore. My arms held nothing.
Everything went black.
The loss of him was immense. I felt it through to my soul.