LUTHER
Acyclone of black fire rushes up to the top of the tent. It blasts a hole in the roof. The canvas catches light. Flames snake down toward the struts. Someone is tugging on my arm.
“Luther, we have to go.” Kole shakes me. He’s crouching in front of me. He pulls me to my feet. Tanner’s firing water at the flames, but they’re not diminishing. I push Kole away from me. My chest is tight. I can’t breathe, but it’s not because of the fire or the smoke. It’s the pain. Squeezing my ribs. Crushing my lungs.
Once out of the tent, I stumble away from the heat. Into the trees. Into the dark. Then I fall to my knees. Grief threatens to break me in half. I bend over, grasp the earth, feel it beneath my fingers, but it doesn’t ground me. I’m still there. I still see her burning. I still smell it, feel it, taste it.
There’s a hand on my shoulder. A warm hand.Herhand.
“Luther?” Nova’s face appears in front of mine. Her hair is still silver, but for a moment I see red. Auburn. Freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes—one brown, one blue.
She strokes my face. My cheeks are wet.
I try to speak but the words catch in my throat. I screw my eyes shut. I see her in the chapel with flowers in her hair. I see my hands on her stomach.
“Look at me, Luther.” Nova presses her forehead to mine then sits back. When I finally open my eyes, she cups my face with her hands. “You saw,” she says. A statement not a question.
“I saw you. I saw us.” I clasp her fingers with mine. “You were my wife.” The words break as they leave my mouth. “I was your husband.”
Nova is crying too. Big, thick tears roll down her cheeks. I sink into her chest. Her heart is beating. I can hear it. She’s here, but I still feel like I lost her.
“I’m sorry I left you,” she says quietly. Barely a whisper. “I’m sorry I broke your heart.”
As she speaks, the sadness in my lungs shifts into something else. I sit up and stare into her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.” I push my fingers through her hair and pull her face closer to mine. “It wasn’t your fault.” I brush her lower lip with my thumb. Her mouth opens. A small whimper escapes.
I close my eyes and bring her to me. I wrap her in my arms and kiss her deeply, my tongue seeking hers. Pulling her into my lap, I run my hands up her back. She’s not close enough. I need her closer.
Her arms are around my neck. She shrugs off the shawl Thessaly gave her. It drops to the floor. I pull the string at the front of her dress. It falls open, exposing the tops of her breasts. I run my tongue along them. I kiss a line up to her throat. Her head jerks back and she groans as I tug the dress lower.
Her nipples are hard in the cold night air. I pull one small pink bud into my mouth and swirl my hot tongue over it. Nova grinds her hips forward, pushing her core down onto my erection. She lifts my head from her chest and looks into my eyes.
“You hated me because you loved me,” she whispers, stroking my lips. “You were angry with me because I left you. We loved each other. So much.”
I close my eyes. Images pummel my brain. Another me. Another her. Another life. So much love. “I never hated you.” I smooth her hair back over her shoulders.
“Prove it.” Nova reaches for my belt. She unfastens it quickly and lifts herself up as she pulls my erection free. I put my hands under her dress, then move her panties aside and guide my shaft to her pussy.
Holding myself tightly, I stroke her clit with the head of my cock. She fumbles with my buttons, slides her hands beneath my shirt, then leans down and gently bites my shoulder.
She’s about to lower herself onto me when I grab her hips and stop her. She meets my eyes. “I want to watch your face as I enter you.”
Nova licks her lower lip. She kisses my forehead, then my cheeks, my jaw, my neck. She keeps my gaze as she slides down onto me. Her heat envelops my length, squeezing it tight. She brings my hands to her back, and I hold her close—so close I can barely tell where she ends and I begin.
When I rock up into her, she grinds down in return. She murmurs something into my ear, but I don’t hear her. She moans and wraps her legs around me, easing me deeper inside.
The first time we fucked, it was urgent, angry, fevered. We scratched and bit and pounded an orgasm out of each other. Last night on the train, it was over in seconds. A dirty explosion of heat. This time, our orgasms build slowly. Like a storm. Air pulsing, pressure increasing, ready for thunder to rumble through us and for lightning to strike.
I move slowly inside her, changing the direction of my hips, watching her eyes widen and the color rush to her cheeks as she clings onto me. She runs her hands up my chest. She skims her hands over my arms, laces her fingers around my neck, and moans into my mouth when I kiss her.
I tilt backward and reach between us, finding her clit and playing with it until her breath quickens and her back arches. As she starts to come, I wrap my arms around her. Her walls pulse. My cock swells. My body stiffens. The orgasm washes over me. Over my whole body. This time, it’s not quick or dirty—it’s long, lingering. It takes my breath away and sends waves of heat through my core.
When I press my forehead to hers, Nova whispers, “I missed you. I won’t leave you again. I promise.”
32
NOVA
“Nova?” Thessaly’s tall silhouette appears in the trees behind us. I stand and adjust my dress, but I don’t feel embarrassed. Luther stands too, keeping close to me.