DRAMA NOVEL ONLINE Borrowed Bride: Chapter 28
It’s a lot. It’s enough.
And at the same time, it’s not enough. Gianna sags in my arms, panting heavily against her chest as the last tendrils slowly leave her. The heat between us is incredible, and her presence keeps the pain at bay.
Maybe I’ll regret it later, but right now this is the most magical moment of my life.
Even if I’m dead, I’ll still take it.
I can’t take my eyes off of her. I need every detail of her burned into my mind so I never forget a single thing about her. From every strand of hair to every eyelash, I need to see it all.
Rolling to one side, I ease my cock out of Gianna and lay her down against the pillows. She pants, licking her lips and smiling up at me with such adoration that my heart clenches repeatedly.
I love her.
More than anything else in the entire world.
“Good?” Gianna asks softly, caressing my cheek.
“Better than good.”
I kiss her lips and slowly move to her jaw. With every touch, I’m painting a portrait of her in my mind. It won’t hold a candle to the masterpiece she is in real life, but it will be worth it to have her there just in case. I can’t go through losing her again.
From her jaw to the soft lobe of her ear, I kiss down her neck and nuzzle into the junction of her shoulder. She sighs softly, lazily threading her fingers through my hair. I kiss across her collarbone and dip my tongue into the small hollow at her throat, then down her chest to where her heart beats rapidly beneath her breast. Pressing my lips to her skin, I can feel the slight vibration from the intense beat, and my own heart matches it like we are one and the same.
Over her breasts, I lavish attention on her sensitive nipples and she moans tiredly, continuing to stroke my hair and the back of my neck. I worship the curve of her stomach, the swell of her abdomen, and right down to her navel, where a scar slices across her body. It’s one I don’t recognize but it’s clearly a few years old. I have questions but I store them for later, and Gianna doesn’t offer up an explanation either.
I kiss down to her hips, nibbling along the bone and then to her thigh. Each thigh is worshipped and kissed until I know every line of muscle, every silver stretch mark, and every fine brush of hair. I kiss with every ounce of love I have.
Then I settle between her legs and kiss her hot pussy. Gianna, having lost her anchor in my hair, moans softly and tosses her head back into the pillows.
“Marco …”
Is she begging me to stop? Or to keep going?
Her legs fall open wider, giving me my permission, so I press my face firmly against her pussy and begin eating her out. I start with long, slow strokes of my tongue over her inner lips while delicately kissing her outer lips. She moans long and slow, coaxing me like a musical note. I slide my hands up her thighs and gently part them wider, then press her into the bed so I can hold her open for my devouring.
My slow strokes run up to her clit, swollen from all the previous activities and when I seal my lips around the nub and suckle, Gianna whines sharply. I remain as gentle as I can, loving each inch of her spread before me until she’s whimpering and rocking back and forth on the bed. My tired cock stirs but I have nothing left to give her.
Except this.
Once her moans reach a tell-tale pitch from my tongue, I begin to dip my tongue inside her. She whimpers and gasps, grinding her hips down onto my face and I drink her down eagerly. Every scent and taste is like a golden touch from my memories and I crave her. I never want to stop.
Gianna eventually comes from my mouth, moaning hoarsely as her final orgasm is pulled from her and she is left tired and spent on the bed. Wiping my face, I crawl over her and flop to the side pulling her into my arms. She goes willingly at first, until she touches bandages, and then she’s less eager to cuddle against me.
I insist with a kiss, and she becomes a comforting, grounding weight at my side.
“I still can’t believe it,” I say softly, not taking my eyes off her face. “All these years. All this time and you …”
I can barely say it. Gianna, tucked under my arm, cups my face and gently strokes my jaw. “I know,” she whispers. “For so long, I was so sure. Anything else I thought was just wishful thinking, but I never knew that you were … I mean that explosion and everything since. I dreamed and dreamed of you, but it was all just fantasy in my mind.”
I kiss her again, mildly confused by her words but explanations will come later. I don’t want to stop kissing her. It’s the only thing that brings my turbulent mind any peace.
Now that adrenaline has faded and we’re no longer fucking like animals, pain makes a return. My body aches like one gigantic bruise and there’s a throb in my skull that flares up each time I move. I was blind to these before, but now that we are calm, they creep back in.
But I will take it all because it means I am alive.
And that Gianna really is here.
Kissing her bare shoulder, I draw the covers up around us, and then her hand finds mine. In the dying light, she laces our fingers together and waves them back and forth, just touching.
I soak it up. Every second with her, every detail of her, will be my focus from here on out.
And then the words come with no warning.
“Marry me.”
Gianna freezes, and our joined hands remain aloft. She looks at me with her huge eyes and studies my face. “What?”
“I mean it. For real.” I shift slightly so I can look at her better. “This entire time without you, Gianna, I was a wreck. I constantly drowned under what-ifs and regretted the things I should have done or didn’t have the confidence to do. There is so much that I want to experience with you, and I know in my heart that we are meant to be together.”
She blinks and her eyes turn to diamonds.
“I love you so much it hurts. I was eager to die because I thought then I would be with you, and now I am eager to live because I need to be with you. For the rest of my life. Until I’m old and gray or however that may be.”
So, tangled together naked in the low light bleeding into this rundown room, I repeat the most important question I have ever asked.
“Gianna, will you marry me?”