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“How many men have you taken to that bed?” The promise of brutality roughened his voice and altered his breathing.
“It doesn’t matter how far we fall, how much pain we inflict, or how dark it becomes in the ruin. I’m going to be with you, waiting for you, loving you, forgiving you. I’m never letting go, Bennett. Never.”
“I never imagined,” he murmured, “that a view could pertain to the sense of touch. Yet when I look at you, I don’t just see beauty. I feel it.”
“Seeing you like this…” He shifted, leaning along my side and taking in my form. “It’s a feeling of such…relief. Like stepping into the rain after years of drought.”
“The untamed serenity in it, soft as velvet, gentle waves of perfect beauty, glistening with life. One look is a shower that washes the senses anew.”
“Love isn’t a decision. It arrives unannounced, breeds madness, and leaves a sea of ruin in its wake. Hate him or love him. Either way, he’s in certain hell.”
He tasted exactly how I’d imagined—wet, dark, and masculine—like a devastating storm.
“Already yours. Your wife, your lover, your captive, a pirate who loves both you and your best friend above all else. And we shall be blinded by our love for life and beyond the ends of the sea.”
Love had hunted me, captured me, bred madness, and yes, it left a sea of ruin in its wake. But the devastation washed away. The skies cleared, and now we were calm, free, sailing on the winds of our hard-won peace.
Love prevailed, not in the windless calm of life, but in the ruin.
