Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“Maddie.” Flame dropped his forehead to mine, just breathing in the air we shared as he held me in his tremulous hands. “I can’t lose you.”
“You will not,” I said and took a step back. With a reassuring smile on my lips, I led him into our bedroom. Flame followed. I knew he would always follow me, just as I would forever follow him. Once inside our bedroom, our place of solace, where so many demons had been silenced by our joinings, I closed the door. I wanted to banish the world for a while. Needed just him and me. Flame needed to be brought back to a place of peace, with me.
I needed him too. He calmed the fire in my own blood.
Flame kept his gaze on me as I gently placed my hands on his chest. His muscles twitched beneath my palms, but my husband stood still and allowed me to caress him. His breathing increased in tempo. It would always be this way, I understood that. Being touched would never come easily to him. But with me, it was something he could stand. With me, it was something he could treasure and enjoy. It was something he had learned to crave. As I did him. After years of rape and sadistic abuse, I felt completely safe with this man whom I loved beyond measure.
With careful hands, I rolled off Flame’s cut, hearing it fall to the floor. Running my hands back down his chest, I reached the hem of his shirt and slowly slid it over his torso, his flame tattoos shining in vibrant reds and oranges as he was bared to my eyes. The tattoos reminded Flame of demons and the sin and hellfire he believed ran through his veins. To me they were a vibrant sunset, the colorful antithesis of darkness offering the promise of a new day.
I pulled the shirt over Flame’s head and it joined the cut on the floor. “You are beautiful,” I whispered and pressed a kiss to his chest, on the spot his fragile heart lay beneath. Flame hissed at my touch and his eyes flickered closed, black lashes kissing smooth olive skin. I traced the orange flames with my finger. I smiled, knowing this really was where I belonged. With whom I belonged. “You could never hurt me, baby. You are my salvation, my remedy, my salve. You were a dream fulfilled and a hope granted.”
“Maddie …” Flame’s voice trailed off into silence as his eyes rolled open. Stepping backward, I unzipped my dress and let the loose material fall to the floor. With Flame’s eyes on me, I unclasped my bra, removed my undergarments, and let them drop to the floor. Flame’s chest rose and fell as he watched me. He made me feel beautiful, always beautiful. He made me feel worthy after years of worthlessness and self-hatred.
For a moment, I wondered if he would see the change in my stomach. But Flame rarely looked at my body. He would not notice if it changed. He always looked deeply into my eyes.
Flame scarcely met people’s eyes—he found the connection too much to bear. That he could focus on me this way showed the trust we had found in each other.
“Touch me,” I commanded quietly, my voice echoing around the room. “Please, baby. I…” My breathing hitched. “I need you too.”
Flame’s many piercings glimmered in the fading light spearing in through the window. I was not sure he would move, let alone follow me to our bed. But with measured steps forward, he ran the backs of his fingers along my cheek. It was a gossamer touch, a feather gently settling on the surface of a still winter’s lake. Yet I felt it as though I were walking on the surface of the sun. Heaven’s gates themselves adorning me with their light and warmth. And I basked in the love that poured from his touch.
His hands traveled south, down my neck and to my chest. Goosebumps accosted my skin when Flame’s fingertips drifted over my breasts. I shuddered, chills skirting down my spine.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Meeting his gaze, I felt full of such peace, the sensation akin to floating.
“Come,” I invited and, entwining his fingers with mine, led him to our bed. I sat on the edge of the mattress. Flame stood before me, his affection for me burning like pyres in his eyes. People did not see what I saw when they looked at him. They believed him to be emotionless and cold. But I saw the secrets he withheld, as though they were written on his skin for only me to see. I saw his hopes and his fears, as if I had been made by God to be the interpreter for this man. The holder of the key that unlocked Flame’s troubled soul. Best of all, I read how much he loved me, even though his body language did not overtly express it. The telling glint that shone in his eyes was for me, only me.