Healing Fire

ALEXANDER

My fury evaporated in an instant. I’d been a fool, yet again. A heavy knot of regret formed in my gut.

It was clear that I was the cause of her pain. I was to blame. I had messed up a long time ago, and she was still suffering.

Aya, still trapped against the tree, raised her face to mine. Her eyes were a deep bloodred, thick tears of the same color streaming down her cheeks. Her anger had faded, but her body was racked with sorrow, pain, and fear.

I let my hands fall from her shoulders, but she didn’t move. Instead, she tilted her face toward the sky, closing her eyes tightly and taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

Her gaze snapped back to mine, studying my face.

“I pushed you away because if I didn’t, I would have died,” she whispered.

“I betrayed you. I understand,” I replied.

Another tear slid down her cheek. With it, another emotion—hope.

I raised my hand and brushed away her tears with my thumb. Her face leaned into my touch.

“I can’t hate you anymore,” she breathed. “Even if I want to, I can’t hate you. I don’t think I ever did.”

I tried not to let the surge of hope blind me. Her words felt like a gentle caress.

“I never wanted any of that to happen,” I confessed. Memories of us flooded back—vivid, full, happy times. Her body fitting perfectly against mine, moving in sync, her wide smile, her laughter, her little victory dance when she won a game of chess.

I caressed her cheek, trying to keep my heart from racing, but it was too late.

“I wanted to stay with you forever,” I whispered.

She let out a heavy sigh, wiping at the fresh tears welling in her eyes. Her lower lip quivered.

“Then you should have fought for us,” she whispered. “You should have fought…”

“You’re right.” I reached out and pulled her toward me by her hips. She melted into my arms, burying her face in my chest. I rested my chin on the top of her head.

“I was young and stupid. I was scared. So scared you’d push me away again. It broke me, Aya. Losing you destroyed me.”

She sniffled, wiping at her tears.

“Oh, Alex,” she mumbled. “You’ve done so much damage. You have so many dark tendencies.”

“I know, I know,” I breathed. I could feel my heart growing heavy in my chest, as if she were squeezing it, her words hitting me hard. She was right. Of course, she was right. I had been terrible—to others and to her. I had treated her like she was insignificant. I had ignored her pain, ignored her fear, just to protect myself. I had been selfish.

She was pushing me away again. My worst fear. Again.

“I lost my way. When I lost you, I lost everything. I didn’t think it would be worth it to even try. I’m sorry, Aya. I was selfish. I couldn’t face your rejection. Then I saw your expressions, I felt your hatred, your pain, and I couldn’t bring myself to go to you.”

“I was hurting,” she mumbled, her face still pressed against my chest. Her small hands gripped my sides, clutching my shirt.

“I needed you. You left me when I needed you most.”

“You told me to,” I mumbled.

“I had to protect myself. I didn’t have it in me to deal with it any other way.”

I tightened my hold around her. She lifted her face, her doe-like eyes meeting mine.

“I hope it’s not too late. I want to fight for us now, baby.”

“Alex—”

“I still love you, Aya. I always have,” I promised.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes wide, searching my face. I could feel her emotions swirling inside her. I could hear her heartbeat.

I held her closer, my hand moving to cup her cheek. I wiped away the tears that had started to fall again.

“If you’ll have me again, Aya, I want you forever,” I whispered.

Her eyes sparkled. I could feel her heart beating in sync with mine, taste her breath, sense her confusion.

“You do?” she squeaked.

“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes, I do, baby. I love you. I’m so sorry. I never stopped loving you, Aya.”

“But…” She looked so confused. Had I been so good at hiding my feelings that I’d even convinced her? The one person who knew me best.

“Let me show you, sweetheart,” I found myself whispering, my forehead gently resting against hers.

I was consumed by the need to make her feel good, to erase the guilt and fear from her eyes.

She barely hesitated before giving a small nod of consent.

A relieved sigh escaped my lips as I tilted her face up to mine, our lips meeting in a tender kiss.

For a moment, it felt like the world was spinning around us.

Every sound faded, every light dimmed, and all I could see were her bright eyes.

All I could feel was her body against mine, her soft lips moving with mine, her breath mingling with mine, her hardened nipples pressing against my chest.

She tasted just as I remembered—sweet, soft, sensual. Absolutely divine.

Pulling her closer, I tilted her face up, my tongue tracing the line of her lips, savoring every bit.

When she parted them with a soft gasp, I eagerly deepened the kiss.

She let out a soft moan, the kind that sent shivers down my spine, straight to my groin.

I had intended the kiss to be sweet, a reminder of my love for her, but that intention quickly evaporated.

My heart pounded in my chest, my muscles tensed, and I was hard—everywhere.

I felt like a man starved, and she was my only nourishment.

She was my lifeline, my guiding light.

My tongue danced with hers, moving in long strokes, unable to maintain a rhythm.

Her hands moved up my body, slipping under my shirt, her nails scraping down my back, her touch sending waves of desire through me.

There was only one possible outcome: I would make her mine again, no matter what it took.

I could feel her anticipation, her hips squirming against my erection, driving me to the edge.

I had to pull away, her gasp echoing in my ears as I began kissing down her throat.

She arched her chest toward me, the softness of her breasts pressing against me, eliciting a growl of appreciation from me.

I recognized the feeling—I had never wanted anyone as much as I wanted her.

She had left a mark on my heart, and her touch set my body on fire.

Decades of other bodies had done nothing to quench the flame she ignited within me.

I kissed and sucked at the base of her throat, my teeth grazing her chin, her soft moans and gasps music to my ears. My hands roamed her body, eager to feel her skin against mine.

I couldn’t wait to undress her, to remove every barrier between us. I longed to have her naked, nothing standing in the way of my touch, my taste, my desire.

“Alex,” she moaned.

Hearing her say my name was one thing, but hearing her moan it was something else entirely. The sound of her voice sent a jolt through me.

I didn’t think it was possible to want her more, to need her more. I grunted, lifting her up by her soft thighs.

Her legs wrapped around my waist as I pinned her against the tree, my lips finding hers in a heated kiss. I pressed against her, the friction making her whimper against me.

She was so wet, so ready.

“I want you,” I growled into her ear, her body shuddering in my arms.

I could feel her desire, smell her arousal, but I also felt something I hadn’t felt from her in a long time: adoration. And hopefully, love.

My fingers traced her body, slipping beneath her skirt. I squeezed her ass, her appreciative moan music to my ears.

I tore her panties off and tossed them aside. She gasped as I slipped my fingers into her, her soft, wet folds welcoming me.

She whimpered and moaned as I pressed my thumb against her clit, moving in a rhythm I knew would make her unravel. Sure enough, she gasped, her small hands clutching my shoulders for support, her legs trembling around my waist.

Every sound she made echoed within me, my arousal growing with each moan.

“Fuuuuck,” she groaned.

A smirk tugged at my lips. I knew I could play her like a well-practiced melody on a finely tuned guitar. I slid a single finger inside her, drinking in her gasps of pleasure.

The heat, the tight grip around my finger—it made my cock twitch in response. My mind was instantly transported back to a time when I was fully inside her.

The tightness, the pressure—it squeezed everything from me. I grunted, trying to push the memory away.

Aya was melting into me. I curled my finger inside her, still teasing her sensitive spot.

She gasped, her small hands clutching my shoulders. I could feel her tightening around me.

I leaned in, pressing my lips to her ear. “Cum,” I commanded, my voice rough with desire.

Despite her struggle for control, I felt her completely unravel on my fingers. She gasped, clinging to my shoulders as she rode out her orgasm, calling out my name.

It was pure bliss to my ears—absolute torture to my cock.

Her body trembled, her chest pressing against mine, her hardened nipples searing a trail of fire into my skin. My fingers were drenched when I pulled them back and slipped them into my mouth.

Her crimson eyes widened in surprise. She tasted just as I remembered—sweet, spicy, tangy.

I grinned. “I missed this taste,” I murmured, feeling her body shudder once more.

She bit down on her bottom lip, her fangs piercing the soft skin. The scent of her blood obliterated the last of my restraint.

A growl slipped from me as I took her bottom lip into my mouth and sucked. She moaned, her thighs tightening around my waist.

My hands roamed her body, molding to her curves, squeezing her breasts. “I missed you,” I whispered, licking her already healed lips, savoring the last of her blood.

Her chest rose and fell against mine in heavy breaths. We stayed locked in our embrace for a few minutes, unmoving.

Then, her legs slid down from my hips, and I allowed my body to step back. Her doe-like eyes met mine, filled with sadness and regret.

“I just can’t get that image out of my head,” she whispered.