Wandering Soul

by Cassandra Chandler

  She ran her fingers down his chest again, through the dark trail of hair that led toward his manhood. Without his pants in the way, she gripped him in her hand, languidly stroking him as he gasped from the intensity of her touch. All the while, she kept her chestnut eyes locked on his, watching his reaction, gauging what gave him the greatest pleasure.

  She leaned forward to press a kiss against his navel, her mouth moving in a slow line farther down. He was not sure of her intentions until she looked up at him, her tongue running quickly over her kiss-swollen lips. His mouth went dry at the sight.

  He managed to swallow and was about to say something, when Elsa dipped her mouth to his shaft, running her tongue over the tip. He nearly came right then. His breath left him in a rush, incredible sensations sparking through his body at this, most intimate kiss. She continued to wet his crown, then wrapped her lips around his shaft, taking him into her mouth.

  He pressed his head back against the pillow, trying desperately not to release. He groaned from the effort, which only spurred her on. Her hand kept moving, even as she swirled her tongue around him and sucked him deep within her mouth. It was taking him too close to the edge.

  Finally finding his voice, he said, “Elsa,” in an urgent, hoarse whisper. He moved his fingers through her hair, tilting her face up so that he could look at her. And still, she did not stop. “Please.”

  She lifted her head from him, her sultry smile promising pleasures he could scarcely imagine.

  “Are you asking me to stop or continue?”

  Dante swallowed hard. “I fear that if you continue, I shall not last long.”

  She simply shrugged. “That’s fine. We have all night. And tomorrow. And the next night.”

  She dipped her head to him once more, running her tongue along the entire length of his shaft. Another groan escaped him before he could stop it, but as much as he was intrigued by the idea of letting her continue her stimulating ministrations, he wanted even more to feel himself inside of her, buried deep. He wanted to know this ravishing Elsa completely.

  He had experienced her body, but not her heart. Until now.

  Elsa was giving him everything. At last, nothing stood between them.

  He reached out for her, then pulled her against his chest and rolled her onto her back so he could lie on top of her. She smiled up at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. The sight of her so joyful took his breath away.

  His heart was pounding, along with other parts of his anatomy. This was a true union. He could barely wait to begin, yet knew he was still too aroused to last long if he hurried. He wanted to savor every nuance.

  He settled between her legs, letting his shaft rest just at her entrance, but not pressing further, no matter how much he wished to. He kissed her, but kept his kisses slow, his tongue languidly thrusting inside her mouth. He could feel her writhing, trying to pull him closer, deeper, but he kept himself only barely parting the warm flesh of her quim.

  Finally, when she seemed to be growing more frustrated than tantalized, he thrust himself deep.

  She cried out as he filled her, her fingers digging into his back. He took a deep, shuddering breath as he regained his control once more. She had brought him so close to the edge. It was his turn to do the same for her.

  Slowly, he rocked his hips, feeling her clench around him as if her body was reluctant to let him go even a little. He relished the feeling as he moved within her, his lips trailing down her neck, where he suckled her skin till he left his mark on her.

  He could feel her passion growing, mirroring his own. Pressure built within him, spurring him on to thrust faster, deeper, until she finally shouted his name, her legs wrapping around his as she pulled him as deep as she could within her.

  His body answered hers as if a nova had gone off within him, every atom thrumming as waves of heat rippled out from where they were joined. Spent, he collapsed on top of her, their breaths mingling as they panted from the intensity of their union.

  On a gasping breath, she said, “Dante…”

  He lifted himself on his elbows, smoothing her hair away from her face. He kissed her, then said, “Yes, Elsa?”

  She smiled at him, but the mischievous edge was gone. She simply looked happy.

  And then she said, “I love you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Are you ever going to tell me what you and Jazz are up to?”

  Elsa was lying with her head on Dante’s chest. They had spent more time in bed than out of it over the last few days, and she was still in a bit of a stupor from their most recent activities.

  “Whatever are you referring to?” His voice echoed in her ear like the low rumble of thunder.

  “Yesterday’s visit. I know she wasn’t just here to visit Winston.”

  “No, she was also visiting you.”

  “And you.”

  Elsa knew they were planning something, but she actually didn’t care too much what it was. She was curious, but she trusted them. She was still getting used to the feeling.

  “There is something I wish to show you.” Dante stroked her hair away from her shoulder, the strands tickling her back.

  She raised an eyebrow. “You know, at some point, we really are going to need to sleep.”

  “That is not what I meant. Although, now that you mention it…”

  He rolled her onto her back, kissing her slowly, as if savoring every touch. He paused, then lifted himself on his elbows. “I thought we might go into town later.”

  A spike of nervousness shot through her at the thought, but she knew they couldn’t hide in their home forever. She wasn’t sure when she had started thinking of her home as theirs, but realizing it made her happy. It was their home, for as long as he wanted to live there.

  She pushed away the doubts that still chewed at the corners of her mind. All she had was this moment, and she was going to enjoy it. “Okay.”

  “I do suppose our trip could wait a little while longer.” Dante nuzzled the side of her neck.

  “Only a little?”

  Elsa hadn’t been able to distract Dante for too long. The afternoon sun beat down on them as she drove her convertible toward town. He seemed to be enjoying the trip. He wasn’t even bothering to wear the mask Garrett had given him.

  The sight of Dante smiling, his eyes closed and his face tilted up toward the sun, was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. His linen shirt was open to the wind, his long legs stretched out before him.

  He looked so relaxed. It was all she could do to keep her concentration on the road, but she managed, focusing more intently when they crossed into the city limits.

  She had a feeling they were headed for the gallery, and he didn’t correct her as she drove in that direction. Elsa found a parking spot as close as she could manage. By the time she stepped onto the street, Dante was there, offering his arm.

  He didn’t lead her toward the gallery. Instead, they walked across the street, then down a few blocks. She wanted to ask him where they were going, but took a deep breath and used the opportunity to practice giving up control. Hopefully, someday it would be easier.

  They headed up the walkway to an apartment building that gleamed brightly in the afternoon sun. White walls, glass and chrome gave it a modern look.

  Dante smiled broadly as he opened the door for her and followed her into the lobby. She had never seen him so excited.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Lucerne.” A dark-haired man in a suit approached them from across the large open space. He blinked when he saw Dante’s face, his smile seeming to stumble for a moment, but it passed quickly. When he reached them, he shook Dante’s hand. “Ms. Montgomery has been very busy. I hope you’re pleased with the results.”

  “I’m certain we will be delighted,” Dante said. If he had noticed the man’s reaction, he wasn’t calling attention to it.
Gesturing to Elsa, Dante said, “This is Miss Sinclair.”

  “Ah, yes. Miss Sinclair.” The man bowed slightly, then shook her hand. He pulled a key out of his pocket and gave it to her. “Ms. Montgomery let me know to expect you.”

  She stared at the key, her curiosity reaching a breaking point. Dante covered her hand with his, curling her fingers over the key. He slid his arm around her waist and guided her toward the stairs.

  “Thank you, Charles,” Dante said.

  When they had climbed to the third floor, passing a gorgeous waterfall built into the wall, Elsa said, “Charles?”

  “I was able to accomplish a great deal on the day I ran errands with Rachel,” Dante said. He led Elsa down a corridor deeper into the building. “As you will soon see.”

  Her stomach was doing flip-flops. She hadn’t decided yet if they were the good kind or the bad. But Dante was still smiling, his expression a mix of pride and happiness. She forced herself to smile back at him.

  She kept telling herself everything was going to be fine. Whatever this mysterious surprise was, it was going to be good.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.” That was another thing she was getting used to. Actually telling someone how she felt instead of pushing her emotions aside.

  “Please trust me a little longer. I promise, I won’t disappoint you.”

  “You could never disappoint me.”

  Dante traced his fingertips over her cheek and along her neck. He bent down to kiss her briefly, then smiled as he stepped behind her. She was left staring at the door to an apartment marked 3B.

  “Open it,” he said.

  Her heart was racing as she unlocked the door and opened it. Dante gestured for her to go inside.

  “After you.”

  Elsa stepped into a loft with floors of honey-gold hardwood and bright white walls. All the fixtures were chrome, and the wall facing her was made of windows that climbed two stories. There were no curtains, light streaming in and reflecting off every surface, almost blinding her.

  An island counter separated the kitchen area from the rest of the great room she stood within, and a spiral staircase led to a second level that covered half the loft.

  “I shall return presently,” Dante said. “If you will give me but a few moments.”

  “Okay…”

  He walked up the staircase, leaving Elsa alone. She crossed to the windows, impressed by the spectacular view. Restless, she turned back to the great room and noticed an easel in one corner. There were shelves built into the wall behind it filled with paints, brushes and blank canvases.

  A few abstract paintings hung on the walls. Aside from the art, splashes of color were added by a few bright cushions on the white couch. Some dyed glass vases filled with exotic flowers softened what otherwise might have seemed too starkly modern. There were more cushions in hanging mesh chairs suspended from the raised level above.

  “Hammock chairs,” she murmured.

  “Thank you for waiting.”

  Elsa glanced back to the stairs. As Dante trotted down the spiraling metal, her breath caught in her chest.

  Dark brown loafers had replaced his polished shoes, and he wore formfitting jeans that showed off his strong, long legs. His backside looked so good, she couldn’t imagine anyone not drooling over the sight. The linen shirt she was so used to was replaced by a comfortable-looking T-shirt, tucked in at the waist and accenting his perfect V-figure.

  His hair was still mussed from their ride in the convertible, and he had spent so much time in the sun that it had lightened to a tawny brown. It hung around his face in flowing waves. Elsa wanted nothing more than to bury her fingers in it.

  She stammered a bit, then said, “This is yours, isn’t it?” She looked around the loft again, tearing her gaze away from him for the briefest of moments.

  He smiled as he approached, then leaned down and kissed her, leisurely exploring her, as if they had all the time in the world. Ending the kiss at last, he said, “I prefer to think of it as ours.” He paused, some of the enthusiasm leaving his voice. “Do you like it?”

  “Dante, this…”

  It was completely antithetical to the room that she had made for him in her manor. She had strived to recreate the home that she thought would comfort him, but she’d just been perpetuating a life he’d already decided to leave behind.

  “If you do not like it, we can make changes,” he said. “I truly want this to be your home as well. I want you to feel welcome here—comfortable, as you made me feel when you opened your home to me.”

  “I don’t understand how you did this.”

  A sudden thought struck her, as she remembered Jazz and Dante’s quiet conversations that ended abruptly when Elsa approached. She glanced at his fingers, searching for what she already knew wouldn’t be there.

  “Where is your mother’s ring?”

  He took her hands in his and kissed each of them. “That ring has bound many lives together. My parents, and Mary and Edgar. Now, for us, in its way. Do not be distressed that it has been freed to continue its journey.”

  Elsa’s heart tightened, but she nodded. She had already visited every moment she could connect to through the ring. They were both letting go of the past. This was Dante’s choice to make. Still, she would miss having it close.

  He drew her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head. “You never answered my question. Do you like it?”

  “I love it.” She laughed, wiping the back of her hand across her tear-filled eyes. “I knew it was your place as soon as I saw the hammocks.”

  “They add a certain modern sensibility, don’t you think?” He said it deadpan, but then grinned.

  She laughed again, and let him lead her farther into the loft. A few feet from his painting area, there was a writing desk with a cushioned chair. The wood was deep chestnut brown and the upholstery a rich gold. The design of the set was a perfect mix of classic and contemporary style.

  “I thought perhaps this could be your writing desk,” Dante said.

  Elsa felt tears on her cheeks. For once, she didn’t care. He had built a new life for himself, but had made sure there was a place for her in it, right at his side.

  “Do you not like it?” he asked

  “I love it.” She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss.

  When she finally released him, he laughed. “Well, I believe you have made your sentiment quite clear.”

  “Maybe we should go upstairs so I can show you what I really think of the place.”

  “As appealing as that sounds, there is one more stop on our trip, and I am afraid if I take you upstairs now, we will not leave this place for quite some time.”

  “True.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  “You seem to be in quite a hurry.”

  She stopped, leaning in and running her hands up his chest, finally burying her fingers in his hair as she pulled him closer and kissed him again. She nibbled her way to his ear, tantalizing the sensitive skin until his hands were clutching the back of her shirt.

  “The sooner we go,” she whispered in his ear, “the sooner we can come back.”

  Dante groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. “I am so tempted to stay.”

  She stepped away from him, then grinned as she took his arm once more. Leading him toward the door, she asked, “Where is this mysterious second stop?”

  “The gallery, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  They laughed the entire way back to the gallery, though she couldn’t remember exactly why. She was just so happy. She had never been so happy in her entire life.

  Dante grew quieter when they entered the gallery, but he was still smiling as he led her into one of the b
ack rooms. It was roped off, not ready for public viewing yet.

  “If Jazz catches us back here, she’s going to be really mad,” Elsa said.

  “Ah, but new exhibits are only off-limits to the public. They aren’t off-limits to the artist.” He stood in the center of the room, that same gentle smile on his face.

  The artist? Her heart soared as she slowly spun around, taking in all of the paintings hanging on the walls. Dante’s landscapes. She was surrounded by his vision of the world.

  Elsa had always thought his paintings were inspired, but seeing so many of them at once, seeing them all on display, they were breathtaking.

  “Dante, this is—”

  “Wait, this is not all of them.”

  He put his hands on her arms, turning her around and guiding her toward the wall opposite the door. A large canvas covered with a sheet filled her view.

  “I waited to let anyone see it until I had your approval,” he said. “I wanted to be certain that you are comfortable with it first.”

  “Comfortable with what?” She looked at the nameplate as he worked the sheet loose. Portrait of my love.

  Dante whisked the sheet away, revealing a portrait of Elsa sitting at her writing desk and staring off into the distance. There was a softness around her eyes in the painting that made her look vulnerable, a hopefulness in her parted lips, and a glow about her that made her heart catch in her throat.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, stepping behind her and sliding his arms around her waist.

  His secret painting. It was a portrait of Elsa.

  “Is this how you see me?” She could barely speak, her throat was so tight with emotion.

  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer against his chest. “Yes. It is how I have always seen you. But you haven’t answered my question.”

  “I love it.”

  Dante let out a breath, hugging her more tightly. “I am so glad. But are you comfortable with me displaying it? I rather think it completes the exhibit.”