Page 31 of Blossom in Shadows

Elio’s hazel eyes are hard when he looks back down at me. “I can’t say for certain what I would have done, especially if I would have found you worse than you are, but it was on the table.”

I grumble as he carries me upstairs and think about the understanding look in Sergio’s eyes. He had accepted such a fate and he still was at Elio’s side to rescue me. That is loyalty and family, two things I haven’t known for a very long time.

I sink into Elio’s chest, happy that it didn’t turn out that way. Sergio has become a friend, of sorts. I would have been pissed if Elio had killed him. When I catch the smirk on Elio’s face, I have a feeling he knows it.

Elio strides straight into the bathroom and sets me on the vanity counter before stepping away to filling the bathtub. I’m not normally one for baths, but right now it sounds heavenly. My muscles are sore and the cuts on my body make me frown.

I strip my shirt and look down at myself, tears welling up in my eyes. When Elio’s hand wraps around my neck and tilts my head up, the first one falls down my face. It makes me feel weak and I hate it, but if I can’t show my weakness in front of this man, then who can I show weakness in front of?

He tsks me and shakes his head slowly, “You’re strong, my queen. So fucking strong.”

When he stands me up, he strips the rest of my clothes and then himself before he eases us both into the clear water, cradling me against his chest. I’m glad there isn’t any bubbles because the water is enough to make the cuts on my body sting. When he grabs a cloth, he washes me tenderly, careful of every slice on my skin and examining each one.

I can feel the rage bubbling inside of him, but I know it’s not directed at me. I can also feel his satisfaction for killing the man who tried to take me from him.

I whisper, “What was his name?”

Elio turns me until he can look into my eyes. “Patrick O’Brien.” I nod absently, not even sure why I wanted to know. “Do you want to know more?”

“No,” the word is final, sounding like a lock clicking into place on the whole incident.

When I’m clean enough for Elio, especially after he soaps up a sponge and avoids the cuts while shushing me whenever one would sting anyway, he lifts me out of the tub and wraps a towel around me. He stands before me, a God among men, and touches me gently with no regard for himself as he drips on the floor.

My eyes travel over him, taking in every drop of water as it glides down his body. It wasn’t that long, but I missed him terribly. I remember the conversation I had with Briar about whether I’d be able to live without him.

Now I have my answer.

It was a desolate feeling and something I never want to experience again. Not that he would let me go. I know, soul deep, he wouldn’t, but now I know it’s a feeling which goes both ways. I won’t ever let him go either.

I press my body against his and wrap my arms around his neck. His eyes are filled with surprise when he looks at me and lets the towel he is using to dry me drop to the floor. I press even harder against him, wanting all our skin connecting, needing it because it heals me and reminds me I’m alive.

“Zinnia,” there’s a warning in his tone.

I don’t heed it. I can’t.

Not when he was going to be ripped away from me by someone who wanted to use me, to twist our love. Patrick ranted quite a bit while he was cutting me, all of it deranged. He didn’t think he would be caught. He was arrogant and it was, ultimately, his downfall.

He didn’t put enough stock into the fact that Elio would do anything to get me back. Anything. He thought losing me would make Elio weak, and maybe it did in a way, but he didn’t count on the vicious determination it would bring out in him.

“Please,” I whimper, “I need you to remind me I’m alive.” I stare up into his eyes and watch them darken. “That we’re alive. That I’m home.”

Before my heart can beat again, his lips are on mine. This kiss is fierce with an edge of panicked need which has me gasping. He takes full advantage as his hands slide down my back and he grips my ass to lift me into his arms.

I give myself over to him and the way he makes me feel, knowing he will catch me. He’s already killed for me. I trust him.

I love him.

He strides out of the bathroom, but it doesn’t matter where he takes me. I’ll gladly cling to him, knowing he will hold me steady. When my back hits the bed, I sigh against his lips in relief at feeling a cloud at my back.

He pulls his lips away from mine and I whimper at the loss, but the hot kisses he trails along my jawline and then down my neck has me arching my body into his, demanding more. I need all of him. I need him to make me feel something other than fear.

“I missed you so fucking much, Zinnia,” he mumbles against my skin.

“I was so scared, Elio,” I groan as his mouth travels over my collarbone and down my chest before sucking one of my nipples into his mouth.

I look down to find him already looking up at me, his mouth latched onto my breast and so much fucking pain in his eyes. I clutch his hips with my thighs, wanting to feel him stretching me more than my next breath.

He must see what I’m begging him for in my eyes because he shifts slightly and then he’s pushing inside of me. This time it’s different, he moves slowly as if savoring the feeling of my pussy opening around him and welcoming him into my body. When he’s fully seated inside of me, he huffs a breath out his nose with satisfaction and love in his eyes.

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