56. Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Six

L aura

Varro is exploring the vast musical catalog of the last two thousand years. Right now, our hotel room is filled with a pounding techno beat. In a moment, there’s no way of knowing if his playlist will dish up harpsichord music from the Renaissance or Zydeco’s lively accordion beats that practically transport you to Louisiana.

I try to ignore my lover’s musical choices as I pore over nautical charts and weather reports. Organizing a diving expedition is no small feat, especially when trying to keep it under wraps. But after everything we’ve been through, I’m determined to find closure—for myself, for Garrison, for the families of his crew, and for Varro.

Speaking of Varro, I glance at him. He’s sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, his feet peddling in time to the music, and his brow furrowed in concentration as he navigates a tablet. It still amazes me how quickly he’s adapting to modern technology—in a language not his own. Sure, there are moments of frustration, but his determination never wavers.

“How’s it going over there, gladiator?” I ask, stretching my arms above my head to work the kink out of my shoulders .

He looks up, a small smile playing on his lips. “I think I’m getting the hang of this… Google? It’s like having the greatest library in the world at your fingertips.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “That’s a pretty accurate description. I’ll have to teach you about Internet safety, the dark web, and viruses, but that’s for another day.”

As I turn back to my work, I feel Varro’s gaze on me. “Laura,” he says softly, “are you sure about this expedition? What if you find the flying machine on the ocean floor, find the bodies…?”

Pushing away from the desk, I move to sit beside him on the bed. “I’m trying to prepare myself for that,” I admit, taking his hand in mine. “But it’s something I need to do. For closure, you know? Garrison left me to die on that island. Maybe it was divine justice that he never made it back, but I’d be as bad as him if I left him at the bottom of the sea.”

I brush my knuckles down his cheek. It’s as though I can’t go more than a few minutes without the reassuring feel of his skin against mine.

“I’ll be honest, I want to find the gold. You earned it with blood, sweat, and fighting for your life. The money would be great, not only for me, but I think it might afford you a cushion from the rest of the world when you need to hide. When I have a moment to breathe, I’ll talk to an attorney—” He cocks his head, an unspoken signal that he doesn’t know a word. “An advocatus , and put the money in a trust to make sure you have access to it no matter what happens.”

Although I’ve broached the subject before, I add, “Don’t underestimate how hard this might be on you when news of your existence goes viral.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. “And you, Dulcis . You might need to hide, too, right? And I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

His words warm me from the inside out. Despite all the challenges we’ve faced—all we still face—Varro’s unwavering support is my constant .

Suddenly, the weight of the past few weeks crashes over me. The hostile environment, the fight for our lives, the looming uncertainties of our future. I lay down next to him and lean into his strength.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. “It’s okay, Dulcis ,” he murmurs into my ear. “We’re safe now.”

I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze. The love I see there takes my breath away. Without a word, our lips meet in a tender kiss. It’s soft at first, a gentle reassurance, but quickly deepens into something more urgent.

Varro’s hands roam my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I curl my fingers through his short hair, marveling at how this man from the distant past can make me feel so alive in the present.

We fall back onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and heated kisses. Clothes are shed, hands explore familiar territory with renewed passion. In this moment, there is no past or future—only us, here and now.

I push his thighs open and kneel between them. We’ve shared more passion in the month since we expressed our love for each other than I’ve experienced in a lifetime, yet it’s not enough… will never be enough.

“I love your cock.” I try to keep eye contact, but how long can I control my desire to look at the pulsing object of my affections? It’s as bronze as the rest of his skin, nestled in thick black curls of hair, standing tall and proud and already pulsing for me.

After using my tongue to swipe the bead at his tip, I lock gazes with him again, letting him see me enjoy the taste, a sly smile on my face.

“Look what my love cooked up just for me.”

“There’s more where that came from, Dulcis . You’ll simply have to work for it. ”

I take him as far as I can in one long dive, my gaze never leaving his face, even when he groans and tilts his back so far it thumps against the wall.

When I retreat, the head of his cock brushes against my tongue and I shiver with anticipation, eager to taste more of him. Though my first slide was fast and delicious, on my next pass I engulf him slowly, taking him even deeper as I moan around him. His hips jerk forward, causing me to suck harder, garnering another drop of his seed. Its unique salty tang bursts on my tongue, reminding me of just how special this man is.

It’s cool outside, but our bodies are heated, glistening with sweat as he continues to fuck my mouth. Though his hands grip my hair tightly, he’s gentle as he urges me to take more of him.

I work his shaft, my fist twisting his base, as I bob on his fleshy length. Dear God, how did I get lucky enough to find this man? He’s so perfect for me, the other half of my soul.

Easing off, my tongue swirls around his head, lapping at the salty drops of his essence. Our earlier kisses warmed me up, but now my arousal grows with each dip and flick, each pass of his palms over my heated flesh.

I love that this man is not afraid to make noise. He groans with pleasure, sometimes gasping for air when I flick his favorite spot on the underside of his head.

“ Dulcis . There. You are… so very ingeniosus .” Talented, indeed.

My nipples graze his muscular thighs as I put my whole body into pleasuring this man. I know he’s fully lost in bliss when his hips thrust faster, his fingers pull my hair harder. He’ll apologize for this after we’re done, as he always does, and I’ll tell him how much I love to make him so crazy that he loses himself in me. The rhythm of our bodies syncs as I suck him faster and faster, moaning around his length as he growls in approval.

With my weight on knees and elbows, I keep sucking. Using one hand to twist around his base, my other hand moves to cup his balls. He won’t last long now. His sharp groan is his tell that he’s close to spilling down my throat .

I moan louder, knowing the vibration makes things better for him, wanting him to come, but he has other plans. He pulls out of me and lifts me so I’m poised over his thighs.

“Ride me, Dulcis . Fuck me and take your pleasure. Let’s come together tonight.”

How can I say no to that?

Pressing my palms to his pecs, I place him at my entrance and wait for him to return from his sex-drunk haze to look into my eyes. I love this part of sex more than the orgasms—the moment he spears into me, connecting physically when we’re already so connected emotionally.

He stills, his hands gripping the covers as he lets me take the lead, sliding onto him slowly enough to feel him fill me, feel the smooth warmth of him, the thick veins, the stretch. Finally, our bodies fully merge.

“ Perfectus .” His voice is hushed as his lids close. His fingers tighten on the bedspread as he uses all his restraint not to move so I can control the pace of our joining.

The moment is too sweet, too perfect, to enjoy swiftly. I begin with slow pulses, not moving too far up his shaft, managing to massage my clit on each drive, heightening both our pleasure.

His breath comes out in ragged pants as I ride him harder now, my hips sliding down and up, mouth watering at the sight of his cock slick and glistening with our combined juices. The smell of arousal fills the air, mixing with the musky scent of his skin and the light sweat beaded on our foreheads. He supports me with one hand on my hip, the other running through my hair as I grind down on him, seeking more friction.

Our bodies move together like we’ve been doing this forever—skin slapping against skin, wetness and sweat mingling in a dance as primal as it is passionate. I look down at his beautiful cock disappearing inside me every time I sink down onto it. The thrill of seeing two fuse into one never ceases to excite me .

I continue to tease us both with slow, sensual movements as the bed creaks beneath us. We can’t remain at this pace forever. Varro’s hands, now both on my hips, urge me to quicken my speed as he throws his head back with a low moan.

He flips us so he can pound into me. This is my favorite part of our lovemaking, when we’re both out of our minds in lust and need to race to the finish. I can always count on him to take me there.

His hips snap, making sure he grinds my clit on every thrust as he spills the most filthy string of words into the air. They’re all in Latin now—his passion has spiked too far to speak English. Some aren’t even words, only fragments, but I translate them easily enough.

“Sweet… fuck!… too good… slick glove… lose my mind… love.”

His chest grazes my nipples on every pass as I breathe in the sweet scent of his breath. He’s groaning with every thrust now, forcing me higher.

“Come, Laura. Let go for me.”

And I do. Pleasure bursts through my pelvis, then darts like shooting stars to the depth and breadth of me. I love this part, where I’m flying, untethered from my body. Then I love the return even more when I come back to Earth, muscles still pulsing, my channel gripping him, to remember I’m here in his arms.

It’s only when I’m back with him, our gazes locked, that he lets himself go. I love feeling his warmth bathe me, love hearing his pants and grunts and moans and praises as he pulses into me.

He only releases my gaze when he dips his head to press his forehead to mine, as though to try to merge our minds as well as our bodies.

“Fuck!” He rolls us both over onto our sides, still connected. Both of us are still panting as we laugh at his pronouncement, as though the word fuck explained everything he’s thinking and feeling and is, in itself, the highest praise .

“Fuck!” I echo, laughing even harder. “Incredible.”

As we lie entwined, I trace lazy patterns on Varro’s chest, then stretch to trace one of his thickest scars with my tongue. “Thank you,” I whisper.

He quirks an eyebrow. “For what? The great sex? I’m not sure that was the greatest. What about that time near the hot springs?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Don’t forget the rabbit, or was that just the greatest for me?”

I flick his shoulder. “I kind of like thanking you for the great sex, gladiator. But what I meant to thank you for was for being here. For facing this crazy new world with me. For being a person I can count on. For… everything.”

Varro pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Laura. Whatever comes next, I’ll be at your side.”