Page 66 of Forgive Me For I Have Sinned

He slides his shirt off his shoulders and removes his pants and boxers, standing completely naked at the edge of pool and facing me. His naked body is sculpted like a perfect statue. His strong arms and thighs, chiseled abs, and his large thick cock hanging between his legs.

"Swim with me."

"I'm super slow. All I can do is keep myself from drowning."

"That's okay. I'm a good swimmer."

He swims competitively and has a spot on the Olympic team, but he refuses for obvious reasons. Do I want to get in his pool with him? Of course, I do. But I’m scared. Scared that when this is all over, I won’t be able to breathe without him. He is becoming the air I need so I can live another day, so when I fall asleep in his arms at night, I can wish for it to happen all over again. To be consumed by him.

I nod and slowly remove my clothes until I stand naked before him. He calls me over with his finger.

"Look at me," he says, touching my shoulders. I raise my chin up, and he kisses me fully. It is desperate but soft, full of a promise I can't figure out. Something is happening between us, or maybe it was already there waiting for us. For the right time.

I shiver when a light breeze hits my skin when he pulls away. His gray eyes hold mine when he whispers, "Swim with me. The pools warm."

He swims laps for the next twenty minutes. He's like a machine, his arms perfect, cutting through the water with measured strokes. I sit on a built-in ledge watching in fascination how perfect he is. His back muscles bunch with the effort. The temperature has dropped because a light fog is coming from the pool's heat, skimming the water's surface.

In the springtime in Ohio, the days are hot, but as night falls, so does the temperature, especially when you're naked in a pool. He stands between my legs while I'm seated on the edge of the pool’s built in sun deck, sliding his hands over my thighs and stopping at my waist.

My head tilts, and I look up at the dark sky, watching the stars wink at me from above. If I could look up at the sky every night, I would want it to be with him.

Sometimes you wonder how someone you love could hate you. How could they hurt you or break your heart when you only wanted the opportunity to love them.

"What are you thinking about?" He rasps into my skin. His lips wandering down my throat.

"How much you hate me."

"Does it look like I hate you?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

His tongue slides up my chin, his lips ghosting mine. My nipples pebble from the breeze. "Let me show you. It's why I took you to my favorite place…a place I love the most. You can look at the dark sky you love so much," his thumb caresses my cheek, and he's staring deep into my eyes, "and let the angels and Gods watch us from above while I make you mine."

His hard cock crowns my opening, the air thickening around us with every breath I take. We're in a bubble, and nothing can break it. He slides inside me, stretching me inch by inch, never breaking eye contact. His soft lips skim mine in sweet torture. Tears prick my eyes at how smooth and gentle he is with his words, like a balm to my inner wounds. "I love you," he says softly.

A single tear slides down my cheek, hearing him say it. Those three little words mean so much.

"You're on a mission."

"How is that?"

I blink the tears away. "To steal all of my firsts," I say softly.

He nods, the skin between his brows pinching together like he's struggling with his emotions. He slides his fingers into my wet hair, holding me, sliding deeper inside, moving slowly.

Under the stars, we make love, but I can't say the words back. In my mind, it is too late. He…is too late. But those words have never been said to me before by anyone, and I want to savor them. Because I know what my future holds, and love isn't part of it. But I feel it, and that's all I ever wished for.

CHAPTER 26

Veronica

Dorothy places the stack of clean plates on the serving counter with a clink. "You have a visitor in booth eight, Veronica."

I look over and notice Dorian seated in the booth, watching me with rheumy eyes, reminding me of his father. "Yes," I say faintly.

"I got to tell ya, Claire's boy is better looking than that piece of work right there. Alaric's a ball buster, but the way he looks at you…ain't no man ever looked at you like he does."

"Are you sure it isn't because you got a new kitchen out of it?" I tease.

---