All that registered was the insane rush of adrenaline through my veins. The thundering of my heart. The racing of my pulse. My hyperawareness of Dane. A vibrant, powerful presence that surrounded me, permeated every inch of me.
He thrust deeper and hit that perfect spot until I was panting and whimpering and dying for more.
“Dane. Oh, Christ.” He had all the right moves and knew exactly how to use them to push me so high up I couldn’t stop the swelling and subsequent eruption inside me. “Yes, God, Dane!” I cried out.
Every sensation converged and burned until I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t feel anything other than my magnificent husband filling me as I clenched him tight.
“That’s perfect, baby,” he said in a lusty voice. He thrust heartily, keeping me aroused. I wasn’t sure when one orgasm stopped and the other began.
“Fuck, Ari!” He surged and convulsed and exploded within me.
So hot and searing that I came again.
chapter 17
I was sore the next morning, but oh, did it feel good! My inner thighs burned with the sensation of a really great workout. My pussy throbbed from the way Dane had filled and stretched me, the way his thick shaft had thrust in a confident, commanding way.
I clung to the tangible proof he’d made love to me the night before. Because I already knew he’d left me. The bed wasn’t as warm. That strong presence of his had vanished.
Opening my eyes, I rolled toward the side of the bed he’d slept in, noting the indentation still in the pillow. Along with a long-stemmed white rose from our garden. I lifted it to my nose and inhaled. There was no note. As though he couldn’t even take just the tiniest risk by leaving physical evidence behind that he was alive.
With a sigh, I hauled myself up and showered. Fought the tears that came with the heartache of not being with him. I focused, instead, on the cherished moments we did spend together. The man certainly didn’t waste what little time we had on these rare occasions.
Still, it was like being married to a phantom. A seriously hot, sexy one, but an apparition all the same. A husband who could very easily be a figment of my imagination were it not for the soreness of my inner thighs.
I joined Amano on the back patio for breakfast while Kyle lifted weights in the fitness room.
Amano handed over a slim box with a coy grin.
“What’s this?”
“Dane wanted you to have it.”
Okay, maybe he did feel the need to leave some proof of life behind.
I opened the lid. My heart stammered—not in a good way. Carefully removing the ID bracelet, I said, “He wanted me to have his wedding bracelet? Why?” Panic seized me. “Is he not expecting to … come back? To survive this?”
“No, no,” Amano was quick to say. “It’s not his. It’s one similar to his. Since you don’t have the diamond bangle he gave you, he wanted you to have something as a symbol of your marriage, your union.”
“Oh.” Relief washed over me. “Jesus, that was scary.”
I rubbed my thumb over the smooth platinum surface, happy for the material confirmation that, although my husband might be a phantom, I was, indeed, married.
Flipping the bracelet over to inspect the clasp, I got another surprise.
“What is this?”
“Inscription,” Amano said. “It’s on Dane’s as well. You didn’t know?”
“He never takes it off.”
I studied the markings.
DB 51027211 AB
With a frown, I said, “I don’t get it.”
“Dane Bax, the date of your wedding, Aria Bax.”