Virtue & Vanity (55 page)

“I love you too,” I muttered in a shaky breath and he smiled, the bright reflection in his eyes showing how much the words meant to him.

He was inside me completely, but he didn’t move. I could tell it took a lot of self-control for him to stay still above me because his muscles were flexing, trying not to move until I got used to his presence. I was overwhelmed by the full feeling and only mild discomfort, but there wasn’t any pain.

He kept whispering to me, laying small kisses and caresses on my forehead, cheeks and neck, until the feeling of light discomfort entirely disappeared and I relaxed in his arms. Sensing the undeniable influence he had on me, he leaned really close, his scent possessing the space around me and putting me under a spell I never wanted to wake up from.

Disarmed by his captivating endearments, I uncovered my anticipating gaze and my cheeks flushed deeply when I met his knowing emerald stare. He ran his fingers along my hot cheek and smiled at me, once again showing that he had the patience of a saint.

“I’ve never laid my eyes on someone as perfect as you. You’re a work of art,” he whispered in a silky soft voice that dripped with affection and then he slowly started moving inside me, never taking his eyes away from mine. “I dreamed of this. I dreamed of you, my dear.”

I clenched on to him and drank from the spring of the captivating green sea that soothed me with its own tranquility. For a moment, I expected the return of discomfort, but what I felt instead was the feeling of pleasure that grew like a bubble that was about to burst one more time. In accord to his harsh breaths, my own breathing had become more intense as I forgot about the pain and savored the reappearance of heaven he offered so selflessly and freely.

Almost like he desired to blend our bodies together into one being, he pulled me closer and closer to him, until our skin was glued together, the beating of our hearts intertwined into a beautiful symphony that picked up on the rhythm of what had to have been the ultimate act of love.

His touch was everywhere. Embracing me, touching the most hidden parts of me, inviting the experience of nirvana I never knew existed. I was shaking in his arms, waiting, wanting and burning.

Stronger than ever before, I felt that I belonged to this man with everything I was. Only he could make me feel; only he could create fire with his burning touch. Only he could take my body and see into my soul because he was an essential part of me. He was like water, sun and air. He was everything.

“I’ll never get enough of this. I’ll never get enough of you.” He was trembling above me, squeezing my hand even tighter and spreading electric shivers through my fingers. “My sweet, adorable angel.” His shaky lips trembled against mine as he drove deep inside me and then kept me in his strong embrace, continuing his never ending kisses and sweet, whispered endearments like he was reaching out for me in this state of grace. “Now we are one. Forever.”

“Forever,” I repeated as the shivering explosion brought me to the edge of madness one more time.

All I could do was call his name, convinced that nothing could surpass the beauty of this divine experience. Displayed in front of my eyes was the highest demonstration of love that brought back all the meaning in the world.
My world. Sebastian.

After a long time, when our breaths finally returned to normal, he kissed my forehead and then lay next to me, turning me to my side, closer and closer to him, until we ended up in the very same position from the beginning.

He took a strand of my hair in his hand and looked at me warmly, like he was inspecting every single part of my face and simultaneously burned its impression in his memory. Despite the fact that a mixture of sweat and hot panting breaths remained lurking in the air like opium that hypnotized us and made us still in each other’s arms, it had indeed felt pure, just like he said it would and the revelation brought tears to my eyes.

“Hey,” he muttered, kissing away my tears and then he frowned as if he was startled by an unnerving realization. “Did I—” he hesitated and his expression turned to worry. “Are you okay, love?”

“I’m okay, Sebastian.” I smiled and caressed his cheek. “I’m okay now.”

Pleased by my reply, he gently kissed the bridge of my nose and pulled me into his strong embrace. As we spent the rest of the night, peacefully lying in each other’s arms until we were greeted by the slow sunrise, it felt as if there was a new beginning after a long period of darkness that resurrected together with the sun. Our eyes opened to greet the new day and we felt it in the energy that was shared between us.

He loved me.

I loved him.

Love took away the pain.

Epilogue

7 years later

“Would you agree that your book is rather...controversial?” The reporter narrowed her eyes at me while she spoke in a rich, British accent.

I crossed my legs and smiled politely, pretending that I didn’t notice her question had a slightly condescending tone to it. Over the years, I had learned to hide my emotions very well, especially to the outside world. Ever since the book Sebastian helped me publish achieved unexpected success, I had to deal with a lot of attention and publicity. It was a burden that would toughen up even the most fragile person.

“Yes, I would agree, As a matter of fact, I think that’s exactly why so many people have liked it,” I said in a cheerful tone, although I felt like ending the conversation.

The journalist scribbled something with a pen, and then glanced at the other paper in her hands which probably held scripted questions she was supposed to ask me. She lowered her glasses and the moment her eyes returned to me, she folded the document, putting it aside.

“And what in the God’s name possessed you to write such a story?”

People had asked that question before and many times, but never with such straightforward bluntness that managed to catch me off guard.

“What 
inspired
 me,” I corrected in a calm voice, “to write this book was a spur of the moment feeling and once I started writing, I just couldn’t stop. There’s really nothing much more to it.”

“Has your husband read the book?” she asked in a quick, flat voice.

I took a deep breath and kept a composed act, even though I was starting to get annoyed.

“I think you already know the answer to your question, but yes, he has read it.”

“Personal involvement, perhaps?”

I arched my eyebrows, making a mental decision that was the first and last time I had conducted an interview in my home. I had a good hunch the interviewer wanted to get some juicy details about my personal life, rather than discuss my book.

“I don’t think I understand where you’re—”

The screech of the large door interrupted me and I turned towards the direction of the noise. The boiling anger I was about to spill on the rude woman in front of me, receded the moment I saw my little angel.

“Mommy, Mommy.” My daughter ran straight into my arms and I hugged her tightly, pulling her up on my lap and turning her towards me.

“Hey, sweetie.” I brushed off the locks of light, curly blond hair from her eyes and kissed her forehead. “Where is Aunt Ashley? She was supposed to look after you.”

Adorable little eyes with the unmistakable, beautiful shade of green widened as she started laughing and I knew there was trouble.

“Shh,” she put her tiny finger on my lips and started whispering. “We’re playing hide and seek. Daddy told me to hide here.”

“Oh, did he?” I rolled my eyes and thought about Sebastian’s never-ending pranks.

He loved spending time with his daughter so he worked from home most days, but the two of them were always coming up with different ways to play tricks on everybody around them. I was lucky to have Ashley around because at times it seemed she was the only person who could keep them at bay. Over the years, she had turned into a wonderful young woman and I was really proud of her. She was studying at the dance academy in New York and lived with us since she’d turned eighteen.

The reporter cleared her throat to remind us she was still there. “This is your daughter Hope?”

“Yes,” I said reluctantly, feeling bad about having my daughter present during an interview even I wanted to get away from.

The moment she heard the woman’s voice, Hope started squirming in my lap and turning to face the woman. Her curious eyes took in her fancy appearance before she addressed her.

“What is your name?” she asked in a sweet voice.

The woman smiled dryly. “My name is Elizabeth. What is yours?”

“You know my name.” Hope giggled. “You said it. It’s Hooope Emerett.”

The playfulness in her voice and the fact that she still couldn’t pronounce her last name correctly made us all laugh.

“Everett,” I whispered to her softly.

“Em-Emerett,” she repeated the wrong name again.

It was adorable.

“That’s a pretty name. And how old are you, Hope?” The reported finally seemed to relax.

She became shy and sought refuge in my embrace. I pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. “Come on, Hope. Tell the lady how old you are.”

I stroked her pretty hair and she became lively again.

“I’m—” She counted on her small fingers and then proudly raised her hand. “This old.”

“Four years?” The woman asked.

“Uh-hmm.” Hope nodded.

“You’re very smart for your age.” The British accent seemed to have become even more apparent in her voice.

“You talk funny,” my bright little girl concluded. “Where you come from?” I could barely suppress a chuckle because as it turned out, suddenly the reporter herself was the one who was being interrogated.

“I am from England,” the woman replied.

“My auntie Jane lives there,” Hope offered and I nudged her softly.

If there was one thing Hope wasn’t shy about, it was talking to people, even if they were strangers. It was a habit that was impossible to break.

“Your youngest sister?” The reporter returned to our interview.

“That’s right,” I admitted with reluctance.

When our mother died from a heart attack, not shortly after Hope was born, Jane was offered the same privilege as Ashley, but she declined, opting for a private school in England instead.

“Talking about your family members, some of them didn’t respond too kindly on your aspirations to become an author. Your sister-in-law has been spreading rumors that might reveal the true motives behind your book.”

I knew what she was doing. She was trying to provoke me again and get me to talk about Dianne whose public attempts to humiliate me had gotten only worse since Caleb divorced her. 

“I’m not sure what you mean, but just like everything else, liking a book is a personal preference.” I opted for a diplomatic reply. 

“A girl from Rosemont married to a New York millionaire—” The reported cleared her throat and smiled slyly. “One of us wasn’t born yesterday.” 

“Hey,” my daughter raised her voice and started fidgeting in my lap. “You can’t talk to my mommy like that!”

Apart from her distinctive emerald eyes, the one thing Hope inherited exclusively from her father was his unyielding temper and sophisticated attitude that demanded respect and obedience.

Suppressed laughter sounded through the room and I didn’t have to look to know that Sebastian and Ashley were standing by the door, enjoying Hope’s little show. The interview turned out to be a complete disaster, but I didn’t mind. It was kind of refreshing to see Elizabeth squirm because of the trouble Hope gave her.

The second she spotted him, Hope jumped from my lap and ran straight into Sebastian’s hug, sweetly scowling at him for letting Ashley find her when he’d promised he wouldn’t tell. One adorable apology was enough to make her forgive him. My eyes froze on the sight of my two angels who hugged each other lovingly. I looked towards Ashley and we smiled at the beautiful scene in front of us.

They whispered something and Hope giggled as Sebastian tickled her tummy. Suddenly, she turned towards Elizabeth and pointed a finger at her.

“Daddy, she was being rude to mommy! She said...She said—”

“Shh,” Sebastian gently warned her to be quiet and then he narrowed his interrogating gaze at Elizabeth.

I knew he was joking, but Elizabeth seemed unnerved all the same. It was a trait Sebastian would probably never lose—the ability to intimidate people. I shook my head and giggled at the memory of times I used to be scared of him. Now, he could glare at me impatiently all he wanted, but he was always the one who ended up giving in. I enjoyed those moments, knowing exactly how special they were because only I and our little Hope could get him to act that way.

“Well, I think we’re done here, Mrs. Everett. It was a pleasure to talk to you,” she blushed and offered me her hand before she headed outside.

She nodded at Sebastian and smiled at Hope, then hurried towards the front door together with Ashley who was seeing her out.

Sebastian looked my way and we laughed simultaneously at the unusual scene that had taken place only moments ago. Hope joined our laughter and Sebastian picked her up in his arms and then walked towards me. Every time I met the depths of his mesmerizing eyes I saw that sparkle of light. I saw love that was so strong it could never die. 

“Here’s your little assistant.”

Sebastian slowly placed her back on my lap and then knelt next to me, embracing us with his wide arms and all the beauty of the world poured itself into this moment we shared with our little angel. I was at ease because I knew that nothing could ever touch the perfection of our life. It was built on foundations of love and trust. In the seven years we’d been married, Sebastian had continued showing what a sweet and caring man he was. Just like he had said, he was filling my days with countless moments of love and happiness. There was no other place I would rather be than right there, in that beautiful house surrounded by the people I loved more than anything in the world. And it wasn’t just a house. This was a place where I belonged. This was my home. 
This was paradise. 

About the author…

Astrid Jane Ray is an author who likes writing anything from poems to short stories and novels. Being a hopeless dreamer, she isn't limited to any particular genres, although she is desperately addicted to dark romance novels.

Her style is best described as a mixture of dark, angst filled drama which is followed by the slow development of love and redemption. 

More than writing, she likes to read and her idea of a perfect day is a good book combined with a cup of hot tea and preferably rain. Currently, she resides in The Netherlands but dreams of moving near the sea, where she could spend her days writing and taking pleasure in the joys of a never-ending summer
.