Wandering Soul

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Wandering Soul Page 18

by Cassandra Chandler


  “You just have to know that you have options.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet he could feel the longing in each word.

  “And what of you? Are you one of my options?”

  She stiffened, but did not pull away. A flush spread across her chest, creeping up from the pale gold silk of her bodice.

  Dante was done resisting. He leaned toward her and pressed his lips gently against hers.

  Elsa trembled in his arms, her hands sliding up to clutch the back of his neck. He deepened the kiss, and her breath came out in a moan as she pulled him even closer.

  Tangling her fingers in his hair to keep him captive, suddenly it was she who kissed him, and with a stunning ardor. Her lips were silken fire, starved for him. When she slid her tongue against his lips, he groaned in response to her invitation.

  Elsa, his Elsa, warm and soft in his arms. This is what he had been longing for.

  His tongue delved between her lips, a prelude of what was to come. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing their bodies together, desperate to be closer.

  She gripped his shoulders and pushed him away, breaking off their kiss. Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths. The same desire he felt was mirrored in her eyes.

  He could not form words to express what he was feeling. Hope, joy, expectation. All fell short of the immensity of his emotion.

  Dante pulled her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. He breathed her in, the scent of roses making him dizzy, the taste of her still sweet upon his lips.

  “No.” She shook her head and pushed him more firmly. His arms fell to his sides as she stepped away. “I can’t do this.”

  He did not understand what had happened. She shook her head again, and held out one arm as if to ward him off.

  “Elsa, I love you.”

  Of course. That one small word held everything that he felt for her within it.

  “Are you sure?”

  His blood was a deafening rush in his ears. He wondered if he had heard her correctly. “That I love you? I am certain of it.”

  She shook her head again, backing away as if she was afraid of him. His heart lurched in his chest. He had seen a similar look too many times before, but never from Elsa.

  “You are my life.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her chest as if to keep her heart from leaping out.

  “Tell me.” His throat was ready to collapse on itself from the weight of his emotion.

  When she opened her eyes, they glistened with unshed tears. Her lip quivered for a moment, and she shook her head.

  At first, he thought she was rejecting him, but then she said, “How can you know you love me? How would you ever know for sure? I brought you here and gave you a home, a new life. How will we ever know if it’s love or gratitude?”

  “Elsa—” Dante took a small step toward her.

  “No.” She was building up her walls, brick by brick, word by word, putting distance between them. A panicky feeling fluttered up from his stomach. “I know you. You’d stay, even if you realized later that it wasn’t love. You’d stay from a sense of honor. I don’t want that. I never wanted that.”

  “What do you want?”

  His question seemed to break her.

  “I want you! I’ve always wanted you. For years!” Tears spilled down her cheeks as a torrent of words flew from her lips. “The first time I saw you, you were trying to save Heinrich. I could see the love and the pain and the fear in your eyes. And then I watched you with Mary, how kind you were to her, how encouraging. And I’m sorry that I watched you without you knowing. I never thought that we would meet.”

  “I have already forgiven that.”

  She continued as if she had not heard him. “All the torment others heaped on you, the pain you bore, and you never once complained to anyone. You never told anyone, but I saw how it tore at your soul, how it pushed you down to your knees. I know that pain, that weight. I’ve lived with it every day of my life. But I never knew anyone could be as strong as you.”

  He knew her powers made her feel isolated, that she felt she could not trust anyone with knowledge of her gift. He did not realize how very much that loneliness was costing her. He had no time to think on it, as she kept on, her voice rising.

  “And now you’re here and all I can think is that you’re only interested in me because I’m the only woman you know who accepts you. I thought if you met someone else, maybe if things didn’t work out between you, eventually we could…”

  Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands. “I knew I had to let you go, but then I watched you dance with Rachel tonight and talk to those other women, and it hurt so much. So much more than I thought it would.”

  She shook her head as if trying to clear it of a nightmare. Dante could bear no more.

  With two strides, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her again. He held her against his chest as she shuddered and cried.

  She had not said that she loved him, but the intensity of her emotion left him with no doubt of how she felt. The depths of her pain were as great as her passion. He had to help her understand that his love was real.

  “You are the strongest woman I have ever known. There is no other woman I want to be with. Yes, you have given me much, and your generosity is part of why I love you, but it is so much more than that. I would know a feeling of obligation. I would know if it was gratitude. I am grateful, of course, but that is not the summation of what I feel for you.”

  He pulled her from him through an act of will, tilting her face up so he could look into her eyes. “Do you think that I have not watched you as well? How tenderly you care for Winston, how passionately you look after your friends? You are kind, intelligent, brave and beautiful. How could I not love you?”

  “How can you be sure?” she whispered.

  “I know my heart. And I believe I know yours. You defied time to bring me here with you. Let me be with you.”

  “Bringing you back was nothing compared to this.” She backed away once more, shaking her head. “You’re wrong about me. I’m not brave.”

  Without another word, she turned away, then walked up the stairs.

  Dante did not know what to do. If Elsa would not trust him, how could they possibly have a life together?

  He took the stairs slowly, following her path toward his own room. He paused before her door. For once, it was closed.

  This was ludicrous. He loved her and he believed she loved him, whether she would admit it to herself or not. They wanted each other, wanted to be together. Fear should not stand in their way. He would not let it.

  He opened the door.

  Elsa was curled on her side in bed, the lamp dim beside her. She sat up and stared at him.

  He hesitated for a moment on the threshold, then crossed into her room and quietly closed the door behind him. “You are mistaken about me as well.”

  “About what?”

  “You think I am overwhelmed with gratitude for all you have given me.” He started to close the space between them.

  She stood as he approached, as nervous as a bird trying to decide whether to take flight. He would not let it happen. He would not let her deny them the infinite possibilities of being together.

  Dante stopped quite close to her. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. Errant locks of her golden hair spilled over her shoulder as she did. He slid his fingers along her skin, nudging her hair back so that he could see the gooseflesh that followed in the wake of his touch. He let the silence stretch on.

  “How was I wrong?”

  “I am grateful, yes. You have given me a home, companionship, friendship. But I am the most selfish being on this earth.”

  “No, you’re not. How can you say that?”

  �
�Because it is not enough. You have given me an entire world, and it’s not enough. I want you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Elsa could hardly breathe. The room seemed to disappear around her, until there was nothing left but the two of them. The focus, the purpose of Dante’s gaze spread shivers over her entire body.

  “I told you, I—”

  Dante didn’t let her finish her sentence. “You told me you want me. You told me that you have longed for me. I will not let you deny yourself this. Deny us this. All of your fears, all your doubts about us are unfounded, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

  He slid one arm around her waist to the small of her back and placed the other on the side of her neck, lightly dusting her skin with his fingertips. The argument she had been ready to make vanished, the words scattering like sparks from a shorting power line as his touch overwhelmed her senses.

  He pulled her closer and bent his head to hers. Just before their lips touched, he whispered, “Elsa…”

  The thrill of his kiss was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She felt weightless. She wrapped her arms around his neck to keep herself from floating away. He was her anchor. The warmth of his body flowed into her. The softness of his lips was intoxicating.

  His mouth moved on hers gently, tasting her, exploring her. He buried his fingers in her hair as his other hand pressed her to him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue coaxing her mouth open.

  She didn’t care about resisting him anymore. She wasn’t strong enough. He was too warm, too real. How could she have ever thought she could let him go?

  Elsa tightened her arms around his shoulders, parting her lips and inviting him in. He tasted like strawberries and champagne.

  He trailed his kisses along her chin and neck. Sparks rained down through her body from wherever they touched.

  “You are mine.” His voice was a soft breath against her ear. “And I am yours. I will never let you forget that.”

  His words were as dizzying as his kisses. Elsa felt her heart lurch as he stepped back, every fiber of her being protesting the distance between them. But his gaze held hers without wavering.

  He slid his jacket from his shoulders, then tossed it onto a nearby chair. Slowly, he removed more of his intricate outfit, never looking away from her. She watched him hungrily, imagining that she was the one removing each article of clothing.

  When he was down to just the familiar white shirt and black slacks, he stepped closer. He reached out with one hand, trailing his fingertips along the side of her neck, across her collarbones, and ever so lightly over the tops of her breasts.

  He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply. His hands flew over the back and sides of her dress, finding the hooks and zippers and undoing them.

  Elsa felt feverish. Every touch of air was like a cool breath as her dress slid over her skin.

  Dante drew his hands along her hips, guiding the dress to the floor. He kept his gaze locked on hers, as if he was avoiding looking at her body while she stepped out of her dress, then he placed the golden fabric on the chair with his clothes.

  He paused briefly before letting his gaze rove over her body. When he did, he let out an audible gasp.

  Doubts sprang to life in Elsa’s mind. She wasn’t toned enough or thin enough or curvy enough. Her imagination produced a million ways he could be disappointed with her. She lifted her hands to her chest and took a step back, but he gently grasped her wrists and followed her as she retreated.

  “Do not cover yourself.” There was a rasp to his voice, as if speaking was a struggle. “You are so beautiful. Please let me look at you.”

  She felt herself blushing, but she lowered her hands. Dante released her and took a step back. His gaze was as intimate as a caress, lingering on her breasts, the antique gold lace of her panties. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, leaving it the tousled mass of soft waves she preferred.

  Still staring at her, he pulled his shirt over his head, then threw it on the floor where it was quickly joined by the rest of his clothing.

  Elsa couldn’t keep herself from staring back. His body was all smooth lines of muscle, his chest tapering down to his narrow waist and hips. He was grace, lithe strength and pure masculine beauty. She tried not to stare at his erection, but it was hard to look away from it.

  She knew that she would never be the same after this. She was about to ruin herself for other men, and she didn’t care. Reaching up to undo her chignon, she stepped toward him. His lips parted as he watched her hair fall around her shoulders.

  He smiled at her, running the backs of his fingers along her stomach, sliding them over her ribs, and finally cupping her breasts. He bent down to kiss her again, deeply, as his hands worked magic on her.

  Lowering himself on one knee, he kissed her stomach while sliding her panties down her legs. For a brief moment, Elsa saw a possibility play out. A possibility that she knew would haunt her.

  Dante on one knee, proposing with his mother’s ring. A life, a future together. Truly together. It was an awful dream that held everything she wanted and everything that terrified her.

  He stood and lifted her from the ground. She pushed all thoughts, all dreams, all hope and panic away. Instead, she focused on the feeling of his arms around her, his chest against hers as he lowered them both to her bed.

  Everywhere, skin was touching skin, and it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more contact. Needed more. As he kissed her, she tentatively slid her leg up his thigh. Dante groaned against Elsa’s mouth, rolling her onto her back and pressing her into the bed. She could feel him between her legs, so close.

  His whole body shook as he took a deep, shuddering breath and held perfectly still. “I know that I should take my time, but—”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  She was desperate to know him in this way. Her body was already begging for him. She slid her arms under his so she could run her hands down his back and over the firm muscles of his backside.

  That was all it took.

  She gasped as he buried himself in the soft flesh of her core, her back arching from the intensity of him filling her. He slid his hands under her back, holding her shoulders as he nuzzled her neck, pushing himself deeper. He was still trembling.

  “Impossible,” he whispered against her ear.

  She had to agree. The moment was perfect, each sensation a miracle. Dante was here, joined with her. It was bliss.

  Slowly, he started to move again, every thrust bringing Elsa closer to a precipice she was wholly prepared to cast herself from. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, urging him on. His pace increased, just like the sparks arcing out through her body from where they were joined.

  As she felt the explosion start to cascade within her, Dante let out a deep groan and increased his pace to a near frenzy. She cried out his name, forever branding it on her soul.

  He collapsed on top of her, his strength seeming to have left him. He nuzzled her neck, placing gentle kisses along the soft, sensitive skin. His touch echoed all over her body.

  “Dear God,” he said. “I never imagined…”

  Elsa was still basking in the glow of things. Her mind slowly processed his words. What had he never imagined? She felt a heavy dread deep in her stomach.

  “That wasn’t…” She almost hated to finish the sentence. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But she had to. “That wasn’t your first time, was it?”

  He managed to lift himself up on his elbows, smiling down at her and kissing her gently before saying, “I hope it was not too obvious.”

  The dread transformed to crushing guilt. Elsa knew that she was being weak by giving in to her desire for Dante. She was being selfish, not waiting until he’d had a chance to date other women in her time. But knowing that she’d been his first, and that would mean that if he really did love h
er, she’d be his only…

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. I did.” She rolled out from underneath him. Sitting up on the side of the bed, she pulled the sheets around her.

  He rose to his knees, his hands on her shoulders as he pulled her back against his chest. “What is it? Tell me what is wrong.”

  She covered her eyes with one hand, trying to figure out how to put her thoughts into words. She knew he was already upset by her reaction and didn’t want to make him feel worse. Especially not after something that was supposed to be so special.

  “I just… I didn’t know that was your first time.”

  “I am gratified to know I performed so well.” He brushed her hair from the side of her neck, then pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. “Was there something you would have done differently had you known?”

  Not allowed herself to be so weak? She shook her head.

  “Next time, I believe I will be better able to take my time. I want to savor you. I could spend days learning your body.”

  He pressed another kiss against her neck and she closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. It was bad enough he had already seen that once this evening.

  “I don’t think there should be a next time.”

  His arms loosened around her, and she felt him sitting back, pulling away from her. That was good. They needed more distance between them.

  “Did you not enjoy it?”

  “I did. It was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

  “I do not understand.”

  Elsa stood up, pulling the sheets with her so that she could wrap them around herself. She turned back to face him, trying to steel her resolve.

  “I told you I was worried that you only think you want me because you don’t think you have other options.” She kept the focus on their physical attraction. She couldn’t talk about love without breaking down. “I assumed at the very least you’d had relationships in your own time. I shouldn’t have given in. If I had known it was your first—”

  Dante rose from the bed, following as she backed away. Her resolve was already weakening. A sheen of sweat from their lovemaking clung to his skin, highlighting the dips and valleys of his muscles. There was a flash of something in his eyes. Intensity, determination.

 

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