Kristie Cook - Promise

OW! I bit my lip. He must have felt me tense because he didn't move. We both remained perfectly still, but I could feel him throbbing inside me. I also felt…something. I didn't think my body could heal that …that wasn't supposed to heal. But the pain subsided and I relaxed.

"Okay?" he asked, his eyes holding mine.

I nodded again. He slid in further and I gasped, but not with pain. He knew, too, because he continued slowly, an inch at a time, until he filled me completely. Then he moved, back and forth, in and out, slow at first, then faster. And harder. And deeper. Each stroke electrified me, sending jolts of pleasure throughout my body. My back arched and I clawed at him. I climbed quickly to my first ever orgasm. But he kept going and I kept coming, again and again, each one building on the previous one, bigger, better, higher, until I thought I'd fly over some unseen edge and into oblivion to never return again. And then he thrust himself inside me harder and deeper than ever and there I went over that edge, losing all control. Every muscle in my body contracted. My back arched. My head went dizzy with euphoria. I shuddered violently with a moan, squeezing him as he convulsed inside me.

He collapsed against me and we lay still for several moments, panting, our hearts pounding against each other's chests.

He finally rolled off and lay on his side next to me, running his fingertips randomly over my breasts and stomach. My body quivered as if I'd truly been electrocuted. We grinned at each other and I'd never seen his eyes sparkle so brightly. I knew exactly how he felt and wondered why people bothered with drugs when making love had to be the ultimate high.

Physically spent, I eventually turned onto my side, facing him, and pressed the full length of my body against his, our legs intertwining. We fell asleep naked in each other's arms. But not for long. I awoke to the tingling of Tristan's fingers running along my ribs and down my side.

"I'm sorry, but I can't get enough of you," he murmured.

"Don't be sorry. I'm all yours." I kissed him with a new hunger.

Knowing what to expect this time…wanting it desperately…I let my inhibitions and self-consciousness fall away. My natural instincts took over and the animal inside came out to play.

Light filled the Caribbean room when I awoke only a couple hours later. I was snuggled up to Tristan's back, his arm thrown over my hip. I kissed his shoulders and ran my fingertips along his spine, hoping to wake him if he wasn't already. The air caught in my throat when I saw the marks all over his back.

"Tristan! What happened to you?" I cried, sitting up.

He rolled onto his back and they were all over his chest, too: long, purplish-yellow streaks like scratches but they were fading bruises. Larger bruises discolored his shoulders, ribs and hips. He glanced down at his chest and grinned.

"You."

" What ?"

He lifted my hand and placed my palm against one of the bruises on his ribs. It was the perfect size. The bruised streaks matched the width of my fingers. The blotches on his hips were as wide as my thighs. I stared at him in horror.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one we should've been worried about." He laughed.

I threw my hands to my face to hide my shame. "Oh, I am so sorry !"

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. I was afraid to touch him.

"They only look bad because we did it so many times, but they don't hurt," he promised. Then he lowered his voice. "Besides, I kind of liked it. Actually, I really liked it."

I pulled myself away to get a good look at his face. He grinned. Mom was right. I rolled my eyes. And that's when I noticed the cracked and chipped headboard and a dent in the wall above it. I eyed Tristan.

"I don't know who did what, but I don't think anger is the only emotion that brings out your strength." He laughed and squeezed my thigh. I cringed—I had my own bruises.

We lay in bed until our stomachs growled and decided to take a shower before we ate. That's when I first felt, and then saw, the mark on Tristan's chest, right over his heart. I didn't know how I missed it before, perhaps distracted by all the bruises. This wasn't a bruise or a scratch. It had a design, dark red and slightly raised. I traced my finger over it and looked into his eyes.

"I've never noticed that before," I said.

He didn't answer, but he traced the birthmark over my own heart. It had always been faint, just slightly different pigmentation from the skin around it. Now it was also raised and pink. They had the same strange design…and now I realized it was the same design embossed on that envelope I found in Mom's office several months ago.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"Sophia never told you? It's the mark of the Amadis family."

I remembered the burning, tingling sensation under Rina's hand when she held it right there. Her other hand had been over Tristan's heart. My breath caught.

"Rina branded you?"

Tristan chuckled. "It's always been there, underneath. You brought it out."

"Huh." I felt mine with my fingers and then went back to his. I couldn't help but kiss it.

We made love in the shower, trying not to break the tiles—six didn't make it. It was better than I ever imagined, and I'd dreamt about the scene many, many times. The water rained down on us…Tristan held me securely, my legs wrapped around his waist…. Mmm…much better than any dream.

After the shower, as I rummaged through my bag for something to wear, I remembered the condoms. I placed the box on the counter.

"We should be more responsible," I muttered.

Tristan pulled a box out of his own bag. "Yes, we should."

I laughed. "Do you think we have enough?"

"We can always get more…."

We eyed each other. I was instantly in his arms again.

"Maybe we should let this new round of bruises heal first," I said, placing my hands on his chest.

"Mmm…I guess you're right." He gave my butt a playful squeeze. "I need to feed you anyway, keep your energy up."

Mom had packed me two sets of clothes, a bathing suit and the box I knew contained lingerie. Not knowing our plans, I decided to just not get dressed yet and wrapped the soft, thick towel around me instead. I padded out to the kitchen, where Tristan poked around the refrigerator.

"There's food in there?" I asked, surprised. I sat on a barstool at the island.

"I had some brought in. Not a lot, but we can get more if we stay."

I watched him with awe—he wore only shorts and it wasn't just his muscles that held my eyes. His tanned skin seemed to glow . I tore my eyes away and glanced down at the house papers in front of me. Something caught my interest. The owner's name was not mine. Maybe I did misunderstand .

"Tristan, who's Katie Andrews and why does her trust own this house? I thought…"

He placed some green grapes and cheese on the counter and turned to the pantry. "If you did some real digging through several attorneys' offices, you might be able to find that Katie Andrews is an alias for Alexis Ames. Hopefully, though, you wouldn't."

"Why'd you do all that?" I asked, impressed. I got up and found glasses and filled them with ice and water.

"Because there are certain people who don't need to know you own this house. I had it built for you and no one can take it away from you." He gathered the food in his arms. "Let's sit outside."

"Our life is way too complicated. Already." I set the glasses on the patio table.

"Unfortunately, ma lykita , we may be meant for each other, but not everyone likes it." He pulled me onto his lap.

"In the normal world, I would just tell them to go to hell."

"Yes, but in our world, they are already there. And that still doesn't stop them."