I couldn’t hold on any longer and my body demolished beneath his touch, imploding on itself before shooting outward in a billion tiny rays of heaven.
“God, I’m coming…”
I couldn’t help it. The memory of that time drove me to the point of detonation.
“Fuck, wait for me. Wait!” Arthur picked up his pace. Our breathing matched—tattered and broken as pleasure became too much for single cells to feel. He was the perfect maestro—giving my body no choice but to reach the pinnacle of release.
His fingers dove into my hair again, his elbows digging into the sand by my ears as he drove himself as deep as possible.
Then he came.
Shuddering and trembling, cursing and panting, he set off my own explosion.
Tiny comets shot from my core and into my heart, and every crash of pleasure gave more of my soul to him. He gave me another piece of himself, too, but stole so much more in return.
Our hearts thrummed to the same beat as we finally calmed and our lovemaking ceased to a gentle rock.
I would always keep what happened here tonight locked away inside—just like that first time. I would hoard it like a priceless gift. Arthur was mine. As much as I was his.
It was fate.
My heart fisted with pain at the thought of never experiencing our first times together. A brown-eyed boy I still couldn’t remember had taken mine in awkwardness and dissatisfaction, and Arthur… I couldn’t think about Arthur giving up something so precious to a whore.
But that was in the past. I never wanted to be with another man. Ever.
Arthur was it for me.
For life.
“Tell me about the tattoo. Apart from the equations and the poems I recognize, I don’t understand it.”
My eyes opened to find Arthur propped up on an elbow, his silhouette cast in silver by the moon.
We must’ve drifted for a while because the moon had moved from where it had been while I’d been on my back with him between my thighs.
Arthur’s face filled with pain. “You lived an entire life without me. I—I want to know what you did, who you became without me by your side.”
Hating myself all over again for the pain I’d caused, I murmured, “There’s nothing to tell. It’s a mix of everything and nothing.”
He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It means nothing compared—”
“It means that—”
We stopped, smiling at each other in silence. We’d always done that—jumping over each other, trying to talk at the same time. Little things like that were starting to come back.
I wanted to squeeze him in joy.
He ducked, pressing a delicate kiss to my temple. “Go on…”
I searched my body for something that made sense. The tattoo was undeniably beautiful and fantastical, but really it hadn’t helped link me to a past I couldn’t remember.
“I suppose I wanted something pretty to cancel out the ugliness of my scars.” I shrugged. “I was told I might never remember. In a way, I hoped the pain would jog something. That each tattoo would somehow magically unlock everything hidden inside. Silly, huh?”
Arthur shook his head. “Not silly at all. I wish it had worked—then you might’ve come back to me sooner.”
My heart squeezed at the thought.
His eyes hooded; a finger traced up the inside of my thigh, whispering over my core. A moan fell from my soul at the barely there graze.
“Tell me about your tattoo,” I whispered, fighting the already building need to connect again.
He looked down, bringing his fingers up to my lower belly, following the path of burn marks. “You know what it is—allegiance to my brothers. Before I had the Dagger Rose cut on my back, then, when I inherited the Corrupts, I had the new logo tattooed over it.”
Ah, that was why it seemed a little messy. One oath over another. I didn’t know it was possible to… swap, as it were.
But that wasn’t what I wanted to know.
I leaned up, planting a kiss on his collarbone.
He sucked in a breath as I whispered against his skin, “Not that one. The mermaid.”
He relaxed, brushing his nose down my throat. “Do you really need to ask? Red hair, green tail…”
Oh my God.
“It’s Ariel from The Little Mermaid?”
He reared back, eyes narrowed with annoyance. “No, it’s not the fucking little mermaid. It’s you, goddammit.”
I froze. “Ah, I get it. Red hair”—I grabbed a red curl, flicking it off my shoulder—“and a green tail for green eyes.” I batted my eyelashes.
He nodded. “Exactly.”
“How old were you when you got it done?”
“Twenty-four. I got it the year I got out.”
“And the Libra sign… That was for me, too.”
“Everything is always for you, Cleo. I thought you understood that by now.”
I reached up and caressed his cheek, running my fingers along his chiseled jaw, drinking in his aquiline nose and perfectly handsome face.
I had no words. None at all.
He rolled on top of me. His biceps tensing as he kept his weight from crushing me. Looking deep into my eyes, he murmured, “I missed you so fucking much.”
His mouth joined with mine in the dreamiest of kisses.
Slow and gentle.
Giving and worshipping.
A gentle tide rather than a tsunami.
This kiss was different.
Before they’d been full of violence and dominance. This was sweetness and surrender. A single moment where we weren’t man and woman, but two hearts reconnecting beneath the moon as our only witness.
In that bittersweet kiss, I missed the younger him—the boy I never got to see grow up. I missed his smile. His eagerness. His simplicity.
I missed my childhood.
But your future is spread before you. Don’t be sad. Don’t hold onto things you cannot change.
Embracing wisdom I didn’t know I had, I licked his bottom lip. “I love you,” I breathed.
He gathered me close, pressing his forehead against mine. “I know. You were born for me, Cleo. My Sagittarius fallen straight from the stars.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The stars had seen fit to reunite us. What did that mean? That we’d paid our dues and finally deserved our happiness? Or perhaps we were just star-crossed lovers being taunted by hope.
Either way, I would fight to keep her.
I would fight to protect my future.
I would take extra pleasure reaping my revenge.
Not only did they have my sins to pay for but also what they’d done to the woman I adored.
I would show them what a monster they’d made when they’d tried to destroy me.
I would show them who would win.
—Kill
My body was boneless as the garage door slid into place¸ locking out the night sky and trapping us inside Arthur’s home.
The journey had been long, and I’d never been more grateful to climb off a bike and know I was only moments away from a hot shower and bed.
Glorious bed.
Arthur captured my face, pulling my helmet off before scooping me up behind my knees and cradling me to his chest.
I didn’t mind being picked up—in fact, my wobbly legs were grateful. “Bed, please, kind sir,” I said, smiling tiredly.
“Anything for you, my queen.” Laughing quietly, he strode toward the connecting door to his home. Somehow he managed to unlock the door, without putting me down. “I’ll run you a bath if you want?”
I shook my head. “No, a shower will do. I want to be horizontal as soon as humanly possible.”
“I thought you were horizontal only an hour or so ago on the beach.” His smirk made me giggle.
“Yes, and I’m the one who had to sit on a hot throbbing machine with stickiness between my legs. Your stickiness, I might add.”
His face battled with smugness and happiness. “It better be mine, woman.”
We laughed together as we moved down the corridor and into the foyer.
Arthur slammed to a halt.
His strong muscles gave out beneath me, plopping me roughly to my feet.
“Oh my God. What happened?!” My eyes popped wide at the mess. It looked as if a hurricane had torn through his home, decimating everything in its path.
Arthur charged into his office. “Fuck!”
I ran after him, hands slamming over my mouth at the broken computer screens, smashed glass from the large equations on the walls, and pockmarked desk. Everything was in tatters.
He shot to the wall behind the only sofa, hurling the couch away with a furious swipe. Dropping to his knees, he pressed a button and a fake wall panel slid up. I stared in amazement as he entered a long code and the safe popped open.
What in the world?
Inching closer, I caught glimpses of cash, manila folders, and a few photographs tucked against the side.
My heart raced to see the photos. Something inside demanded to see—they held clues—they held parts of my past that I desperately wanted to recall.
But before I could drift closer, Arthur slammed the safe and relocked it.
“They didn’t find what they were looking for, at least,” he growled, staring up at me from the floor. His back was bunched, face harsh and layered with darkness from the room. He looked… not so much evil but capable. A man capable of murdering anyone who trespassed on his property or tried to steal what was his.