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“I said open your eyes!” Cold hands grab my arms, pain searing through my flesh, and I open my eyes.
“Hey. You okay?”
I blink, my heart beating impossibly fast, every limb heavy and numb.
“Hummingbird.” Nicoli touches my chin, forcing me to look up at his worried expression. “You okay?”
I let out a breath. “Yeah. Just a bad dream.” I roll onto my back and stare up through the dark, the moonlight shining in and casting stripes of light across the ceiling.
Nicoli is silent for a moment before sliding closer to me, and I turn my head to look at him. His dark hair is wild from sleep, and his eyes shine even in the dim light. He cups my cheek gently, his touch warm against my skin. “I got you, Hummingbird.”
My heart melts like always when he says things like that. But it’s not so much the words he speaks but the way he says it. The way his eyes show the intensity he wishes his words could convey. The way his voice cracks slightly when he calls me Hummingbird.
I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the chill that had settled over me from my nightmare. Nicoli brushes his thumb along my jawline, and I lean into his touch until our lips meet in a slow kiss.
As he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” I say finally.
Nicoli nods and leans back on the bed next to me. We’re quiet for a while before he breaks the silence again. “I will find him, Mira. I swear.”
I slip my hand into his, seeking an anchor in all this uncertainty. “I know.”
“And when I do,” his gaze cuts to mine, “I’ll make sure he begs for death…by your hand.”
A shudder flows through me, the darkness in Nicoli’s promise settling in my chest. It was never something that appealed to me, the thought of ending someone’s life. But with the nightmare I’ve lived and Nicoli by my side, the thought now thrills me to a point where it’s all I think about. My husband’s desire for vengeance and justice mixed with mine are now indistinguishable. The same. Even though I’m the one who got hurt, who got abused and misused, Nicoli is the one living with that guilt. I see it in his eyes every damn time he looks at me.
Guilt for not being there.
Guilt for not saving me in time.
Guilt for not protecting me.
I reach out and place my finger on his chin, his stubble rough beneath my fingertips. “You owe me nothing, Nicoli.”
“I owe you everything.”
“It’s not your fault. Your guilt is unwarranted.”
“Is it?” He wraps his fingers around my wrists, blue eyes penetrating mine. “Should a husband not feel guilt when he could not protect his wife?”
“Nicoli—”
“Should a man not experience rage and regret for not keeping the woman he loves safe and unharmed?”
“It is not your fault,” I say firmly, then slide my leg over and position myself to straddle him, my palms firmly on his chest. “I love you, Nicoli. What happened doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Nothing ever will.” I rock my body on top of his, his cock swelling against my sex. “What he did to me,” I move my hips, sliding my slit along his shaft, “doesn’t affect how I still desire my husband.”
My lips crash against his, our tongues melding as he groans into my mouth. His hands thread around my hips, and the sensation causes a wave of pleasure to ripple through me. “I love you,” I whisper, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling back and trapping him with an intense stare. “No matter what happened or happens in the future. This is still us—you and me. Not even the devil himself can ruin it.”
Nicoli launches upward, grabbing the back of my head and forcing me close so he can capture my mouth, his fiery tongue sweeping to every corner. His fingers fist my hair so tight my scalp starts to burn, but it’s a beautiful type of agony that ignites a desire for him and only him. It’s stronger than any memory. More potent than any pain endured. And for me, that’s enough proof that Nicoli and I can survive hell as long as we have each other.
I lift my hips and reach down, wrapping my fingers around his length and guiding it to my entrance. Nicoli’s lips part against mine, his breath warm and desperate as I inch down, slowly taking him little by little.
“You feel so good,” he whispers, groaning as I take him fully.
I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, his cock impossibly hard and buried to the hilt inside me. The muscles in his shoulders tense when I start to move, and he hisses his pleasure against my cheek. “Work that pussy,” he rasps before tightening his hold on my hair, jerking my head back, causing me to gasp. “Ride my dick like you’ve earned it.” He breathes against the column of my throat so that a shiver of sheer need runs down my spine and pools in the pit of my stomach.
I grind my hips, shifting at an angle to provide the most pleasure. His cock hits the top of my channel, electricity exploding in my core, setting my body alight and almost making me come.
