matter how wet or ready I am. He’s so big and it always hurts so good to be pounded in by him.
My eyes droop at the intensity of his thrusts, and I’m transfixed by the image in the mirror. By the way I seem so small in his hold, but also by how closely we’re joined, as if we can never be separated.
That view throws me over the edge.
Jonathan studies me with that usual focus of his as I come undone around him. My breathing hitches as pleasure rolls off me, making my legs unsteady.
The way I look at him is more than pleasure and lust.
It’s more than orgasms and dirty fucks.
It’s something I thought I would never feel again after that black day eleven years ago.
20
Aurora
I must’ve fallen asleep after Jonathan carried me out of the shower, because the next time I open my eyes, I’m on the bed.
A sheet covers me up to my chin and the towel is still wrapped around me.
I blink the sleep away from my eyes and glide my hand across the bed. Sure enough, Jonathan isn’t here. My chest falls at that thought, and I curse myself for it. Since when did the need to see him next to me when I wake up become a habit?
The glass hints at the afternoon sun, shining through the trees. I stir and get up to search for my phone.
I need to call Layla and make sure she and her family are well-installed and protected. Then maybe I can take a look at what’s going on in the news. That is, if there’s an internet connection here.
I search through the bags on the chair and in the drawers, but there’s no sign of my phone.
Ugh. It’s Jonathan, isn’t it?
A tender ache hurts between my legs every time I move, and it brings back the memories of Jonathan taking me in the shower. It doesn’t matter how much he fucks me, each one is an experience all on its own, and I’ve become so attuned to this feeling. To him.
It takes me a few minutes to put on a short summer dress I find in the bag he packed for me. How did he even come upon this? I bought it years ago and never actually got the chance to wear it.
I let my hair fall loose to the middle of my back, put on flip-flops, and descend the stairs. I search in the kitchen and in the lounge area, and then in an office situated near the entrance.
There’s no trace of Jonathan.
My feet come to a halt as a dooming thought hits me across the face. Did he…leave me here?
I rush outside, my heart hammering in my chest. The car and Moses are also gone. The sound of the breeze slipping between the tree leaves is the only presence around me.
It’s almost like a ghost island.
A shiver snakes up my body and wraps its meaty fingers around my throat. I instinctively rub my arms to drive away the goosebumps.
Wait, no.
There’s also a faint sound of…waves. I follow the scent of the ocean, legs unsteady, and my heartbeat won’t stop escalating. The idea of being all alone brings back memories of being utterly lost. Though I should be used to being lonely, I’m not. Not really.
Especially not now.
Sure enough, there’s a beach down the cliff. Its shore expands into the horizon, creating a marvellous picturesque scene when combined with the sky. The clear, blue water sparkles under the afternoon sun, but that’s not what causes me to stop and stare.
It’s the man sitting on a chaise longue, a tablet in his hand.
Jonathan is wearing only shorts and a white polo T-shirt, which highlights his tall, muscular frame.
The sun shines on his black hair, which, for once, isn’t styled. It falls across his forehead in a tousled and carefree way. His eyes are covered with black aviators as he scrolls through his tablet with his usual serious expression. His brows are slightly furrowed, jaw set and lips in a line.
I’m so used to those features, to the hardness and ruthlessness in them.
I’m so used to him.
When the hell did I become so used to this man?
The fact that he didn’t leave me here on my own fills me with relief so strong, I nearly topple over from the force of it.
My feet lead me to him of their own volition. The flip-flops get lost in the white sand, so I kick them away and walk barefoot. It’s not