Dane leaned in to whisper in my ear as he pleasured me. “I’m going to make you come this way, honey, because there’s no way I’m going to last longer than about a minute once I get inside you.”
“Mmm,” I moaned, arching upward into that magical hand. He stroked me gently but with the perfect amount of pressure as if he’d never forgotten how to touch me so that my body spiraled toward climax. It made me feel cherished, adored, loved. “Dane,” I gasped as I soared up, up, finally tipping over the edge as I cried out his name once more. In the back of my pleasure-soaked brain, I heard his grunting sound of approval and before I’d even begun to come down, I felt the blunt tip of him at my entrance. He moaned as he pushed inside, easily entering on one quick thrust.
“Ah, Jesus,” he groaned as he started moving, slowly, his expression tensed, as if he wanted to make it last but was barely holding on. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment as his thrusts increased in pace. I closed my eyes, glorying in the fullness of his invasion. “Look at me,” he said, his thrusts becoming jerky.
I did as he said, opening my eyes and staring at his pleasure-tightened expression, seeing what was so clear in his eyes. This wasn’t only sex, not only the enjoyment of a physical encounter. Not like in San Francisco. This was a reclaiming. I knew it because I’d been claimed by Dane Townsend once before and it’d made my heart leap fiercely the first time just as it did now. “Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted.
“I’m yours,” I breathed. Forever.
That same expression of deep satisfaction came into his eyes, right before he pressed into me once, twice, and then tipped his head back, his expression contorting with the pleasure of his orgasm.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me as he shuddered one last time. Dane rolled off me slightly so I wasn’t taking on his full weight, but most of his body was draped over mine and I luxuriated in the hot, heavy mass of him covering me. He was even warmer now and for a moment, I drowsed, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness as my body and mind drifted back down to earth.
Dane didn’t pull out of me. I noted lazily that he’d come inside me, but I couldn’t care about that now. Not when there were so many other things to worry about. That one seemed distant and unimportant, a worry, perhaps for another time, another place.
Here, there was nothing but the dictates of our hearts. Here, we grasped what pleasure could be found in the union of our bodies. There was nothing else—only us. And we either wandered away from one another, an unbearable, lonely suffering, or we clung together. And so this time, we clung. This time we forgave, for the alternative was far too bitter and we knew it well.
“I love you, Dane,” I whispered, the feeling so strong in that moment it felt as if it had fallen from my heart. Like those shooting stars, light streaking through the murky darkness.
Dane lifted his head, stared into my eyes for a moment, and as the expression on his face filled with so much tenderness, tears came to my eyes. “I love you too. I know now that I never stopped.” He nuzzled his nose against my own. “I love you,” he repeated. “In this lifetime and in any that follow. I will always love you, Audra.”
I smiled on a quick inhale of breath, my heart squeezing with love for him. “I will always love you too.”
For long minutes we simply cuddled, our hearts beating in time, living only in that moment because it was all we really had. I played with his hair as his hand ran lazily over my hip. I felt half-awake, like this all might be a dream and at the thought my heart lurched. I knew it wasn’t . . . but what if . . . what if it was and I woke up in my house, alone, staring at the cracked ceiling.
Dane lifted his head and looked at me as if he sensed the change in my mood. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just . . . do you think . . . I mean, if not for this accident . . . do you think we would have . . .” My heart clenched and I sucked in a breath. “Do you think we would have lived the rest of our lives apart?” In some ways, all the revelations I’d experienced were a direct result of these extreme circumstances. Would I have seen the light, allowed Dane’s love back in, felt just desperate enough to finally speak all my ugly truths if I’d been able to run away, to erect more walls? Would Dane have pushed me like he had if we’d been anywhere but here? It scared me to think about it. More perhaps, than being stuck on this mountain. Which was . . . unbelievable. But true.
He smoothed my hair back, leaning in and kissing me once on the forehead. “I don’t know. But maybe”—he smiled—“the universe wasn’t going to stand for that so it sent a flock of birds who made the ultimate sacrifice so we’d come to our senses.”
I let out a small laugh, the tension uncoiling inside me. The universe wasn’t going to stand for that. “If we get off this mountain, I’m going to build a statue in honor of those birds.”
Dane laughed, pulling completely out of me as he rolled to the side.
I bit my lip and turned to him, rubbing my nose on his shoulder, my smile fading. “Do you think the plane will come back?” I asked.
Dane paused for so long, I tipped my head back and looked up at him. He glanced down at me, pressing his lips together once before answering, “No.”
My stomach dropped. I’d known that would be the answer. “What are we going to do? We have enough food for today and then, that’s it.” I felt tears pricking my eyes and a feeling of angry resentment raced through me—resentment at what or whom, I didn’t know, but it was there. I wanted to bask in the beauty of lovemaking, the joy of having told Dane I loved him and hearing it back. But we were not in a position to revel in either. The cold, harsh truth was that no one was coming for us. We were almost out of food, and we might very well starve
to death up here. We’d lit the fire together again last night, right before my phone charge went out. We had no way to make another fire if this one died, and our supply of wood to burn was limited and becoming more so every day.
“We’re going to keep the fire burning, for one.” He began to sit up and I did too. “And then we’re going to talk about our options.”
I pulled myself together as Dane did the same, lifting the “door,” and crawling outside as I followed him. We both stood, Dane stretching and then reaching for me, pulling me to his side. I looked up at him as we huddled together in the chilly morning air. “We have options?” I asked.
“Not many. We can either try to survive the winter, or try to hike out of here.”
“Hike out of here? How? We’re surrounded by rock walls and cliffs too high to climb down without breaking our necks.”
He put his hands in his pockets and shivered slightly. I frowned, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek and feeling his skin. It felt hot and slightly clammy. “My God, Dane, I think you have a fever.”
“A fever? I actually feel more cold than anything, not hot at all.”
“Well, you are. Do you think it’s your leg?”
“If it is, I’m sure it’s just a low-grade fever as my body heals. Or, I have a bug or something. I’m fine, Audra. Really. I’ll let you know if I feel bad. In the meantime, soak up my heat.” He pulled me to his side again, and even in my worry, it felt wonderful to be pressed against him. We could cuddle anytime we wanted now. There was joy in that.