Endless Love by Bianca Borell
Chapter Thirty-Five
BRIA
My feet dig into the soft sand, and Damien clasps my hand in his as we walk toward the villa in the distance. It’s surrounded by palms and lavish green hills, secluding it, only a few steps away from the lush beach and sparkling turquoise water.
The mix of sun and clear water kissing the shore creates a scenic landscape. The white mansion extends to thousands of square feet, and an extravagant outdoor deck surrounds it. The first image that enters my mind is the splendid sunrises and sunsets we could witness with the stunning 360-degree panoramic view over the bay.
As we step closer, various sights battle for my attention, but the private infinity pool wins as I see myself laying on the daybed pavilion. I glance at Damien’s lips curving into a proud smile.
“It’s amazing.”
Like the outside, the inside is also magnificent with its polished wooden floors, stone-featured walls, and elaborate fittings, spacious living and dining areas with ocean views. On the second floor, an extravagant master bedroom and en suite await us with a king-size bed situated in the middle of the room—an open and spacious suite with a heart-stirring ocean view. I stroll toward the bathroom with a sunken Jacuzzi.
I love the island and the villa, but I’m more than ready to celebrate our marriage.
“I’ll go take a shower, baby.”
“I like how you think.” He strides toward me, grinning when I stop him.
“Alone.”
“But, Bria.”
“Just this time.”
I plead and offer him a reassuring smile. He nods and steps back. I shower away the long flight from my skin, pampering it with the scent of lotus petals and golden amber shower gel. I peel the sun and waterproof bandage off. I have enough of them to last through my honeymoon and step out of the shower and apply a creamy body lotion.
Wearing a sheer, pink lace babydoll negligée with a matching thong, I approach Damien. He lies on the bed, propped on his back, his ripped body naked except for a towel wrapped around his hips. He sizes me up with his eager and wanton eyes. Heat and lust roll from my belly down between my legs. The desire sparkles between us, shimmering like crystals. He jumps up and strides to me, his voice lowering to sensual.
“I’ve had you countless times. I’ll make you mine a thousand times more, but I can never replace the first time making love to you as my wife.”
My skin prickles as he commands every cell of my body to respond to him, and a sensation of light-headedness washes over me. Damien’s lips find mine, and we settle into a slow but enticing rhythm. I suck on his lower lip as his warm breath invades my senses. His thumb digs into my cheek as he pulls at my wet hair, trailing soft and maddening light kisses on my sensitive neck. He peels my negligée off, not stopping kissing me. He lifts me while I cross my legs around his back, and we land on the bed.
My heart thumps in my chest, he’d detect it any moment now. His touches are everywhere, coaxing a rush of desire. He freezes and blinks, his gaze focused on my thigh. He traces the lines of the tattoo as not believing his eyes. He lifts his chin, his steel eyes blinking with vulnerability, and asks, “Is this permanent?”
I weave my hand through his hair and nod.
“Do you like it?” I bite the inside of my cheek, anticipating his answer. His Adam’s apple bobs, and he closes his eyes. His steel eyes find me again, an endless pool of gratitude and wonder.
“You inked the combination of my first name letter and the word ‘mine’ I always draw on you on your thigh. I don’t like it. I fucking love it.”
“It’s my wedding gift to you. It’s not an island, though.”
“It’s better. And now I know why you hid from me all week long. It was driving me crazy.”
“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” I say, and my finger traces the vein on his arm while his eyes narrow at me.
“Who tattooed you?”
I suppress both a smile and to roll my eyes at him.
“A tattoo artist.”
He raises a brow, and I erupt into giggles, but today I don’t want to torment him too much and add, “A female tattoo artist.” At my words, his beautiful face relaxes while his hands grip my thighs.
“You have no idea, Bria, none, how crazy I truly am when it comes to you.”
He dips his head and licks the lines of the tattoo, his wicked tongue igniting a burning desire. He slides my thong off me, his gazing never wavering from me. I’m an open buffet to satiate the hunger inside him.
He spreads my legs as he pushes one long finger in me, awe lacing every single word.
“You’re dripping wet, baby.” I fist the sheets, moaning.
“It’s been a week. I need you.”
His tongue and fingers release the pressure building inside of me, and I buckle and moan his name when I come.
I’m still on my high when he enters me almost reverently.
We make love, sweet and gentle, and my heart floods with happiness. Our eyes lock as he moves inside me, staking his claim for the first time as my husband. Every minute of him losing himself inside of me, claiming me, loving me, binding me to him is proof of us, forever us, intertwined on too many levels even to be aware of them all. Undone and in the arms of my husband, I succumb to an overwhelming sense of belonging.
“I love you, hubby.”
“I love you, wifey.”
We press our foreheads together, and I draw hearts over his chest.
I turn on my belly, prop on my elbows, my face resting in my palms.
“Baby, are we alone on the island?”
“Only when we make a call will someone come to cook and clean. Do you know why we’re alone on the island?”
“Hmm, I wonder why?” I smile while he leans in, his lips arched into a mischievous grin.
“Because you, my wife, are banned from wearing any clothes for the next three weeks.”
“What if I disagree?” I tease. He tilts his head, his beauty never ceasing to amaze me.
“Then I have to make you change your mind, but it will be a long and torturous process with not as many orgasms.”
“Wouldn’t that be a shame.”
“A shame would be not granting me the freedom to see what’s mine. I want to take you freely where I want and how I want.”
Have I ever been able to deny him? Why start now when it would give me pleasure put on repeat? I rise from the bed and run naked.
“You know where to find me, I’m the sexy, married, and naked chick in the pool.”
He chuckles, and his words trail after me.
“I’ll find you whenever, wherever.”
***
I dip my toe in the water, and the warm temperature lures me in. The sun descends, painting the ocean and the sky in spectacular yellows, oranges, and violet. I stop to watch a family of dolphins jumping around, squeaking. Damien wraps his hands around my stomach and rests his chin on my shoulder. It is the perfect romantic background.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Not more beautiful than you.”
Damien turns me around and gathers me in his arms as I wrap my legs around him. We slide into the infinity pool, the water caressing my skin while my husband’s eyes reflect the sky and ocean, leaving me breathless. He slips inside me, and moans escape my throat while an incredible sensation of fulfillment washes over me.
We spend days laying lazily by the pool, me beating him at chess mostly, and nights diving in the ocean with the moon shining on us, witnessing our lovemaking. Damien lavishes me with his constant pampering and his undivided attention.
I couldn’t ask for more. I love walking on the white beach as the sand takes the form of my steps under the setting sun. It has a more calming effect on me than meditation ever achieved. I breathe life in with every intake of fresh tropical air. Damien’s favorite spot is the pavilion bed where he can watch every move I make, never letting me out of his sight, his care and love melting my heart.
I’m a lucky woman, being with him, knowing he’s all mine. This happiness overwhelms me. I scream out these emotions tearing and gluing me together for him to the stars above and with echoes scratching the light waves.
“I love you, Damien!”
I run the short distance toward him and land on top of his chest. He leans in to kiss me, and his entire face radiates happiness. Damien cocoons me into his arms, and we fall asleep with the light breeze cooling our heated skin.
A light tan color spreads itself on our bodies as we let the days turn into peaceful nights. I wish the time on this island, my island, would never end.
***
Two weeks fly by, and even surrounded by all this beauty, all I need is Damien’s arms around me and his presence to make me feel one with paradise.
I open my eyes and watch my handsome husband—his chest rising and falling in a constant, powerful rhythm—still peacefully asleep. My finger traces the edges of his chiseled jaw. Not wanting to wake him, I quietly descend the stairs and pour myself a glass of orange juice.
Something woke me, though. An uneasiness creeps under my skin, and an unsettling sensation digs a hole in the pit of my stomach. As if something viciously dreadful crawls inside me, I try to escape it, but the feeling rushes back with a renewed sense of vengeance. I step outside, walking up and down the beach, but it doesn’t help.
Damien runs toward me, an anguished expression transforming his face. He’s about to tell me what’s the cause of my unease, and all hopes for a false alarm disappear. He grabs me, pulling me tightly to his chest.
“Bria . . .”
“Please, don’t.”
Sobs gather at the top of my throat as he tries his best to comfort me and hold me through what will follow.
“It’s Quinn, baby. I’m sorry, it’s bad. He’s in the hospital,” he says, changing my life forever.
I drop to my knees, falling apart.
