ECHOES OF US | 18+ ✔️

CHAPTER 37

MIA

As the final day approaches, Danté grows quieter, his touches linger longer. His goodbyes at night hold a desperate edge. He spends hours locked away in his office, tying up loose ends. When I press him for details, he simply shakes his head. "You don't need to worry about that, Mia. Just focus on taking care of our daughter."

On our final evening together, he insists on putting Skylar to bed himself. I linger quietly in the doorway, watching as he cradles her small body against his chest. His lips brush her soft forehead, and his voice is a fragile whisper as he says, "Ti amo, piccolina. Always." The words waver, his voice cracking on the last one. My throat tightens, and I bite down hard on my lip, trying to stop the tears that threaten to spill over. {I love you, little one.}

When he turns to me, his eyes are glassy with tears, but his expression is resolute. "I want to make love to my wife all night," he says softly, his voice trembling with emotion. I nod without hesitation, my chest aching at the weight of what we both know: this will be our last night together as husband and wife.

The last time I will ever give myself to this man, body and soul.

He reaches for my hand, his grip steady but shaking just enough to betray his turmoil. We walk down the hall in silence, the unspoken pain hanging thick between us. When we step into the bedroom, the quiet gives way to urgency as we undress. His hands are careful, almost reverent, as he slips each piece of clothing from my body. He touches me with a tenderness that feels different tonight, his fingers and lips tracing my skin as though trying to memorize every curve, every shiver of my body beneath his touch.

When he dives between my thighs, his desperation is clear. He devours me like a man starved, his tongue relentless as he pulls moan after moan from my lips. The pleasure crashes over me in waves, once, then again, leaving me breathless and trembling. But the way his shoulders tremble and his grip tighten against my hips tells me this isn't just about pleasure-it's goodbye in the only language we can bear to speak.

When his cock finally enters me, the stretch feels almost new, raw in its intensity, like the first time we gave ourselves to each other. Each thrust is slow, deliberate, our bodies trembling with sensitivity and emotion. The air between us feels thick, charged, and suffocating all at once. His icy grey eyes lock on mine, and I see the unshed tears pooling there as he whispers, voice thick with regret, "I'm so sorry for hurting you, but I have no choice."

The dam holding back my emotions breaks, and tears streak my face before I can stop them. The ache in my heart is unbearable, and I shake my head, trying to drown out the weight of his words. "I need you to fuck me," I beg, my voice cracking. "Really hard. I want to feel that you were inside me... every part of you."

His lips press together, a tear slipping down his cheek as he nods. "As you wish, amore," he murmurs.

What follows is raw, primal, and devastatingly beautiful. He grips me harder, moves faster, his cock driving into me with an intensity that leaves no room for thought, only sensation. His name falls from my lips in broken cries as he thrusts into me, over and over, unraveling me completely. Each time we fall apart together, he gathers me in his arms and begins again, neither of us wanting the night to end.

We make love until the early hours, our bodies exhausted but unwilling to part. This isn't just sex-it's a desperate, fleeting connection that neither of us wants to break. And when he finally stills inside me, his lips find mine in a kiss so tender, so filled with love, it feels like a goodbye all on its own.

I doze off in his embrace, just to awake to an empty bed. The space beside me cold and lifeless. For a moment, I lie still, hoping this is just a cruel dream. But then I notice the absence of my belongings-the luggage I'd packed is gone. My heart sinks as reality crashes over me.