Sonata (North Security 3)

An officiant waits beneath a driftwood arch. White silk and white roses hang down in artful flourish. Everything appeared with startling ease. The private resort does one wedding a day. They didn’t appreciate having to clear their schedule for two weeks. Liam made it worth their while.

I lift up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He frowns. Gratitude still bothers him. I plan to shower him with it. Exposure therapy. Endless gratitude until it hurts less than torture, at least slightly. “You know you can have a different wedding. Another wedding. We can call Josh and—”

“That would be silly. Josh can’t give me away.”

“Elijah, then.”

“He’s almost my age.”

“Frans offered. He also said we could use the chateau.”

“Oh gosh, no. That would be a circus. Besides, it wouldn’t change this moment. None of them can give me away. None of them own me.” I brush my thumb over his lips. He has to bend down for me to reach him this way. I could pull with all my strength. It would be like tugging at the moon. He moves because he wants to, my own personal tide. “You own me.”

“So I should walk you down the aisle—like a father.”

“And you should marry me when we get to the end, like my lover.”

He opens his mouth. Before I can move my hand away, he has my forefinger between his teeth. Biting down. Sucking gently. It’s a warning and a privilege. “I should take you right here, push you on the sand, spread your legs apart, fuck you while the water swells around you.”

My breath catches. “What would the priest think?”

“He would be jealous, of course. Any man would be. You look like a goddess in that dress, rising from the sea. You look untouchable. Moonlight. I wouldn’t fuck you like a goddess, though. Flesh and blood. Coming around my cock, your sex wet as the ocean around us.”

“Liam,” I whisper, urgent as I press my legs together.

I lean against him, my palms rubbing up his shirt. He’s been strict about sleeping in his own room since we got to the resort. I chose the location and the flowers and the cake. He chose this. “You haven’t been touching yourself, have you, little prodigy?”

My cheeks flame. “I’m sorry.”

“I might have to punish you for that.”

If I’m going to be punished anyway, I may as well explore him like I want to. My hand drifts down over the ridges of his abdomen. Over the flat plane. And the iron-hard bulge beneath his dress slacks. He grunts. That’s his only reaction. No part of his body moves, even as I explore the shape of him through black wool. “Have you been touching yourself?”

“Of course. Every night I’m hard and hurting for you. Thinking of how pink you look, how sweet. I have to fuck my fist for relief, but that only makes it worse.”

My heart thuds against my ribs. I’m feverish. “Then maybe I should punish you.”

“You already do, little prodigy. Your beauty is my punishment. Your strength. It hurts enough that any sane man would have looked away.” He gazes at me with unflinching honesty. “I love you, Samantha. For what it’s worth, it’s yours. Everything I have.”

I press a kiss to his chest. Salt mixes with man. It fills my lungs. “Everything you have. Before the tour, before I left Kingston, before I grew into a woman, I might not have understood. I have your heart, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? I have your guilt and your desire and your hope.”

“Yes,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Everything.”

“Do I have your forgiveness, too?”

“What?”

“Will you forgive me for the well?” I don’t bother to specify which well. The well beneath the Palais Garnier. The well in his hellish childhood. Mostly I mean the well that lives inside his mind, the place he’s kept himself for so many years. A mental prison—and also, perversely, a place to stay safe. Something recognizable. The opposite of the well isn’t dry land. The water isn’t the enemy. It’s the endless expanse of the ocean. That’s the opposite. Freedom instead of confinement.

Forgiveness instead of an eternity locked in the darkest place.

His expression turns hard. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Then forgive yourself for the well, Liam. You did nothing wrong either.”

He searches my eyes. “You’re determined to heal me.”