Forbidden Knots (Shadow Duet #1)

18. EIGHTEEN

EIGHTEEN

Storm

W e walked through the woods, the scent of pine enveloping us. I clung to his hand, terrified of letting go, terrified that Sophie would succeed in what she attempted. My heart pounded, and my body trembled. The cold seeped into my bones, my body ached as if thousands of knives were slicing through me, each cut more excruciating than the last.

Finally, a path with light appeared, the lively sounds of a carnival echoing around us. This reality struck me like a blow, shattering my dreams into mere illusions.

"I'll stay," Sophie declared, arms crossed, standing defiantly in front of the castle.

For the first time since we fled the beach, he released my hand and grabbed hers, pulling her forcefully away from the entrance. "Like hell, you will."

"Let me go, Tristan," she shouted. "You made your choice, and I made mine."

He turned towards me, and for the first time, I saw the pain in his eyes that separated us. I knew he would choose her, and jealousy gnawed at me—not just because he wouldn't be wholly mine, but because he had her even in my absence, leaving me all alone.

"I will go," I said, my voice breaking. "Goodbye, Tristan."

His eyes met mine, but he remained silent. He turned away, focusing on Sophie. Her satisfying smile was more painful than any lash she had inflicted. Wrapping my arms around myself, tears filled my eyes. I turned, each step feeling like I was leaving pieces of myself behind. I sobbed quietly, barely able to walk, barely able to hold on.

I had lost everything I ever hoped for, dragging myself along the dusty road back to town.

Suddenly, hands gripped my hips, spinning me around, lifting me. Too weak to resist, I was ready to be taken by whoever it was. But then I heard his voice, "You really thought I would let you go?" I buried my face in his chest as he carried me away.

He lifted me effortlessly, like a feather caught in the wind, capable of carrying me into the shadows, yet I would still want to follow him.

"Tristan," I whispered weakly, "can you take me home?" My eyes slowly closed, and for the first time, I saw light. The darkness vanished every time I closed my eyes.

He was a shadow, but a shadow that brought light instead of darkness.

I remember there was light, then there was shadow.

I remember there was me, and then there was him.

It was me before him, and now it was me with him.

After him, it wasn't an option—he didn't give me one, and I didn't even want it. I wanted to stay in forever with him because I didn't like who I was before him, and I wouldn't enjoy myself after him.

I remember there was freedom, then there was a shadow.

I remember there was loneliness, and now I will never be alone.

He will always be here, behind me, watching me, following me.

I will be before him, never free, but never alone again.

I will be his storm on a sunny day, and he will be my shadow in the sunshine.

I will be his rain, and he will be my cold.

I will be his light, and he will be my dark .

In his bedroom, even as I pleaded for him to take me home, he gently settled my numb body onto the soft sheets, silently affirming that this was his domain. His home.

My head met the pillow, and I blinked open my eyes, greeted by the moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a serene glow over the room. The gentle breeze teased my skin, sending shivers down my spine, while my dress clung damply to me, leaving a wet trail on the sheets beneath.

Meeting his eyes, a flush of warmth spread across my cheeks as his pupils dilated, his touch feather-light against my skin. A gasp escaped my lips as his smile widened, drawing him closer, his presence a balm to the bruises that marred my body.

He knelt beside me, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, enveloping me in its soft embrace. With a fluid motion, he shed his shirt, exposing a canvas of chiseled muscle I had only admired from afar. My trembling hand traced the contours of his chest, the proximity of his bare skin sending my senses reeling.

I bit my lip, anticipation building as his fingers deftly undid the buttons of my dress. Leaning over me, his lips met my chest, igniting a trail of desire that left me arching into his touch, my fingers tangling in the tousled locks of his hair.

With each whisper, I felt his smile against my skin. A soft moan escaped my lips as his hands found purchase on my hips, his tongue leaving a tantalizing trail of heat in its wake.

"You are poisoning my mind, Storm," he whispered against my skin. "From the moment I saw you, I waited for this."

"And you clouded mine, Shadow," I whispered, tangling my fingers in his hair. I tilted my head up, releasing a moan as he placed another kiss on my skin. My breath hung in the air as the summer night began to spread cold around the bedroom. The deepening night and the moon hiding behind clouds made the room darker than it had been a few seconds ago.

It felt like the darkness was enveloping me, kissing me, welcoming me, sending me a Shadow.

His hand moved the rest of my dress from my hips, pulling it down to my feet. Instead of discarding it, he tied my ankles with it, making a strong knot.

He followed the contour of my body, slowly moving to my knees and then pulling them up, separating my legs.

He climbed on top of me, his fists by my arms sinking into the fabric of the sheets. As he lowered his body, I could feel his hardness between my legs, making me gasp. His hair fell onto his forehead as he looked at me, and I lay underneath, completely surrendering, my body welcoming him.

His smirk told me he'd do anything to make me addicted to him, though he probably didn't know I already was. As I closed my eyes, his weight lifted off me, leaving me begging for more. I squinted, searching for him, but all I saw was his silhouette opening the windows and shutters, letting the moonlight flood the room. I closed my eyes again, biting my lip and shifting on the bed, trying to make myself comfortable.

I could hear his smile in the darkness as he came closer, his deep, husky voice whispering in my ear, "Tell me the truth, how much you want me," he paused, then said louder, "Storm."

A gentle stroke on my breast followed his whisper. I felt each leaf's caress burn on my skin, the delicate oleander petals sliding to my navel, igniting another burn as they traveled back to my breasts and nipples.

"Tell me," he whispered again, his teeth gently biting the tip of my ear.

I said nothing, but my body screamed for more, my nipples hard and my skin bristling at his touch. Another stroke on my breasts, then a gentle slide towards my jaw, lifting it with a branch until my eyes met his.

His eyes, the colors of summer and spring, followed my body until I begged for more. Through his teeth, he commanded, "Say it," as he glided the branch of oleander from my jaw to my inner thigh. With another stroke, my body shivered, burning but begging for more.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, "I want you," I shouted, my palms immediately covering my mouth as I giggled. "I want you," I whispered, "I want every part of you," I said, looking at him, "and I am begging you, Tristan, to give me all of you too."

His face shifted, eyes darkening as he jumped on top of me, the oleander branch crushing under him. His lips were on my neck, sucking until it left a red trail. He took my hands and pinned them above my head, tying them with his belt to the bed frame.

"But I want to touch you," I whispered as he tightened the belt.

Looking at me, his lips curved into a smirk. "I want you to beg for that too."

I bit my lower lip, arching my back and spreading my legs for him, my wrists and ankles tied, leaving me numb for him, only primal sensations active. The sheets beneath were wet from our sweat and my damp body, creating a new trail under me.

As he looked at me, the smile never left his face. "You are so fucking beautiful," he said, his voice echoing in the quiet room.

He unbuttoned his pants, placing his palms on my hips and pulling me closer to him. Lowering his head, he fell on my breasts, inhaling the scent of salt and pine from my skin. Kissing me slowly, he circled my breasts until his tongue found its way to my nipple, making it sensitive and numb to his touch.

The room was quiet, my breaths the only symphony under his touch. He trailed kisses down my stomach to my hips, then slowly to my thighs. He pulled my knees up, spreading my legs wider. I gasped as he stretched my limbs apart, the anticipation building with each movement.

I wanted to shout, to beg, but only loud moans escaped my mouth as I patiently awaited his next move. His tongue grazed my clit, then dipped into my flesh, circling inside as he held my body in place. As he delved deeper, he realized that this, our first night, was also my first night ever.

My body had never been touched by a man, innocent and untouched, waiting for this very moment when he would be the one to take me, to make me surrender wholly. I was completely his.

"I'll be damned," he whispered, his words vibrating against my sensitive skin.

He lifted his head, his beautiful eyes meeting mine. His tongue glided from my flesh to the surface, smiling as I rolled my eyes down. "The way you moved, I always thought you'd done it before," he said, slowly moving up toward me. "But now that I know your pussy has never been touched, I will make sure it belongs only to me."

A promise or a threat? From where I stood, it was more a fact that from now on, he wouldn't allow anyone to enter my life.

His lips locked with mine, the taste of salt and my essence on his tongue, something I never knew I needed until now. I was addicted, my body begging for more. His hands fell onto mine as he unbuckled his belt, freeing my arms. His lips left mine, and he quickly moved back to my inner thighs. His hands brought my knees apart, his palms slowly trailing down my inner thighs, ensuring I kept them open as his tongue descended again.

"Oh, God," I moaned, as he danced with his tongue inside me. "Oh, God," I repeated.

"God," I shouted, my voice filling the room as he went deeper.

I felt a soft hum on my skin. "I'm pretty sure God doesn't want anything to do with this," he murmured before tracing my opening with his tongue.

I lifted my hips, shivers sending bolts through my body as my thighs began to shake. His palms pressed down on my skin, lowering me, and pinning me to the sheets. He moved his body up, placing his knees beside my inner thighs, ensuring I remained open as he pulled down his pants.

"This will hurt," he said. His words didn't sound like a warning, but more like a fact that it would happen, and I must enjoy it.

I nodded silently, biting my lip, my hands gripping the sheet as I watched him. His hand moved, thumb slowly circling my clit, his knees spreading my inner thighs wider. The fresh breeze sent a shiver over my exposed skin. Without warning, he entered me, inch by inch, filling me completely.

My arms flew back, grasping a pillow above my head. My lips parted, releasing screams and gasps as pleasure and pain coursed through my body.

"Tristan," I cried out, my eyes squeezed shut as he thrust deeper, setting a relentless rhythm.

My screams filled the room, a mix of agony and ecstasy. My thighs tried to close, but my hips moved with him, desperate for more.

He covered my mouth with his palm, muffling my cries as he continued to thrust. Each movement tore at me and filled me, making me scream into his hand.

Lights flickered on outside. Golden glows filled the windows as curious faces appeared, drawn by the sounds echoing through the streets of La Maddalena. I shut my eyes again, my thighs trembling, another scream escaping my lips, softer this time.

Every thrust stole my breath, leaving me gasping and crying out for him.

"You have to wait, baby," he whispered, sweat dripping from his forehead. "I said wait," he repeated, but my body betrayed me.

I tightened around him, pulling him closer.

"FUCK," he whispered, a grin spreading as I bit my fist to stifle my screams, my thighs shaking against his legs.

He pulled me closer, still thrusting, first slow, then faster. My body, numb and on edge, pushed me toward insanity.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said, flipping me onto my stomach, my face pressed into the pillow.

Bruised and aching, I still wanted him. He lifted my hips, spreading my cheeks, and entered me again in one swift motion.

His hand pressed my chest, pulling me upright until I sat on him. His hands guided my hips, making me move. I found the rhythm, riding him, our bodies moving together. The sheets beneath us, wet with sweat and blood, lay under a crushed oleander. I arched my back, holding his head to my neck, fingers tangled in his hair.

I needed more.

He needed me.

And this was what made me whole.