His hand reached toward me, his mouth opened and breathing hard. The closer he got to my hand, the more his shook. Finally, he punched the bed. “Damn! It’s no good! I can’t take your sweet innocence away, Liane. I’m rotten, and I’ll make you rotten.”
I let him have his moment and then I rose to my feet and turned to face him. “No, Hawk. It isn’t you who will make me rotten; it is I who will make you pure.” I swirled around to the door and opened it. I didn’t turn around. “Before I head butt you again, I’m going back to my dressing room. It’s the second door on the left if you want me. Tomorrow you can book our flight, and we’ll go back to Louisville. I’ll agree to the annulment. I can’t force you to take something that’s already yours. Let me say this one thing, however. If you think that keeping me in your life will bring me pain, you have absolutely no appreciation for what I’m feeling at this moment.” Without drama, I smoothly glided out of the room, closing the door gently behind me.
I went back to my dressing room, tossing the clothing choices and bags onto the floor. I threw back the covers and slid in, huddled like a disciplined child. The tears began, and I let them come. I could go no closer to him. If he wanted to remain alone, whether it was out of fear for me, or a self-imposed isolation that allowed him to obstinately be a martyr for the rest of his life, it was what it would be. I couldn’t change it.
***
I felt myself being pulled from sleep and I fought it. It felt so good where I was. I was warm, and my dream was sweetly blurred. This was a different dream. No images and no plot — simply sensations of electric impulses soaking through me. I wanted to stay in the dream. It was safe here, and I felt completely alive.
A sound vibrated through me, and I was momentarily pulled from that lovely place and into the darkness of a room. I tried to acclimate myself with where I was. A womb, maybe? There was a heartbeat and warmth. A soothing comfort that I innately knew was where I belonged.
The dream wouldn’t let go of me, however. It became stronger, more acute, almost tactile as it pulled back into its depths.
It was tactile. It was warm, and it was wrapped about my entire backside. Ahhh, so pleasant and I leaned into it, wanting more. The dream pulled me closer, reaching around to touch my breasts and slide apart the fabric I slept in. In the darkness, I pressed deeper into them and moaned when I heard my name. My eyes fluttered open, and the dream evaporated.
It was my husband — a dream of a different kind.
I twisted to face him and wound my arms around his neck, kissing his face and his mouth. “You see? You can’t escape your fate,” I whispered, and he groaned and threw back the covers that separated us.
I saw the hawk circling then, gliding lower and lower, intent upon its prey. It rose above me and rent the nightgown easily, laying me bare. The dim light in the room was enough for it for I knew his keen eyes wouldn’t miss a thing. Its wing began at my chin and very slowly swept over me. The wing slid down the side of my neck into the cradle of my shoulder. It separated into fingers, each one working synonymously to examine the texture of my skin. I lay still, letting it become acquainted.
My Hawk moved to my chest, molding to the side of my body and over my hip. He rose and repeated this motion as I listened to the in and out of his breath. Ever so slowly, he gradually moved up to my breast, cupping me and then grazing my nipples. I gasped at the sensation, and he tensed. I was afraid he would fly away so I lay still once again. Eventually, he began again, moving over my belly and into the apex of my sex. With a gentle but firm pressure, he pushed my thighs apart and ran down the skin inside my legs. First one side, then the next. Again I tensed as the sensation caught me by surprise. This time, however, it did not startle the hawk.
Goosebumps rose, and the hairs on my skin became conductors of the energy that lay between Hawk and myself. They began to tingle, to vibrate and the effect was more than I could stand. I heard a whine and realized it was my own. My body involuntarily rose toward Hawk, needing the connection. I offered myself up as a sacrifice to his keen hunting skills. My legs parted wider as my needs heightened. My arms reached and pulled Hawk down upon me. His eyes narrowed as he searched for the precise spot to attack.
In nature, I knew the hawk could not linger. It must attack and withdraw quickly, lest its prize be stolen. It was a creature of the darkness, of mystery and of fear. No one suspected, however, that it was the hawk who feared. The prey never had time enough to witness its own demise. One moment it was there, and the next it was not. Only the hawk remembered. Only the hawk knew where to strike again.
In the dim light, my Hawk towered above me, his bulk blocking the light and I arched toward him, needing more. I yearned to be held safely in those arms. I yearned for something more.
“I love you,” he said as his hips settled between my thighs, his thick cock grazing my sex. I felt his love, then I felt his fear. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes when the love overshadowed the doubt that stirred like a witch’s brew in his mind.
He struck.
There was a splinter of pain as we became one for the first time and he captured my cry in his mouth. As it ebbed, craving took its place, and my whimpers became pleading.
“Yes, baby, ride with me.”
He licked away a tear and began moving slowly within me, as though forming my inner walls into a shape that matched his own. He arched to withdraw, and I mewed objection, but he immediately returned. Again and again and again.
Hawk made love rhythmically and tenderly, conscious of how I must feel. He would not relent, increasing his intensity until shocks built in my pelvis and traveled up my spine to my brain. Something exploded and my mind was filled with what could only be described as the vibrations of fireworks. I felt no fear. I simply surrendered to the spasms as they shot through me.
Hawk cried out as he plunged into me one last time. He sank into me deeply, as I knew he must be feeling what also came from my body. In the same way, I picked up his energy and it heightened mine and I poured it back into him. Each time I thought my spasm had subsided, he moved incrementally, and I exploded over and over.
“I love you, my Liane. Now and forever.”
I felt more than heard the words. As languid warmth descended over me, he withdrew and rolled to pull me close against him. His body molded over mine and eventually he pulled the covers over us. There was a new scent in the room. I intuitively knew it was our scent of love. It imprinted itself upon my memory, and I drifted, trying to hold on to the dream.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Liane