My mind is a mess. This is the second straight night I’ve had with Skull. I’d ignored common sense and did not go back to the school. I couldn’t bring myself to leave Skull. It might be just sex for him—and maybe it’s because he is my first—but it feels real. It feels like love. I don’t want to leave him, but I have to leave him and Georgia behind completely. Those thoughts keep intruding upon every minute I have with him, even now when I’m holding onto Skull while riding on the back of his bike. I’m full of need and emotion that’s all centered on this man, but there is a part inside of me screaming about life’s unfairness.

Skull pulls up against the sidewalk a block away and cuts off his engine. I don’t make a move to get off. Instead, I hug him tighter, laying my head against his shoulder. He seems to know that’s what I need because he doesn’t move for a few minutes. His hand covers mine at his stomach and he squeezes it.

“Are you okay, mi cielo?”

“They could be looking for me,” I mumble against his shoulder, knowing I need to leave and not wanting to.

“You mentioned that before. I doubt very seriously you have a reason to fear nuns, Beth. I will protect you if need be, though,” he jokes.

I want to smile, but I can’t. It’s just a reminder of the bigger secret I’m keeping from him. I ignore the tinge of guilt I feel at not telling him the truth, then slide off his bike.

“What time is it?” I ask, holding my arms tight around myself to ward off the chill. Skull puts a jacket over me, but the night air is cold. He wanted to drive me out to his favorite spot and I wanted to be anywhere he was.

“Are you really worried about missing curfew?” he asks.

“If they report it to my guardians, then yes. They’ll take me out of school and have me finish in private tutoring or ship me off to France.”

Again, I only tell him half-truths. None of what I just told him matters since I’m running away. He looks at me strangely as I try to remember exactly what I said. Did I give too much away? I only have one more night with him, really. I don’t want to mess that up.

He parks his bike, grabs a rolled up blanket from his saddle bags, then joins me. He takes my hand and walks me down the grassy pasture-like area we’re in. I can’t tell anything about the area because it’s dark. There’s a large moon above us that gives light, but since I have no idea where I’m at, it doesn’t help me. Skull, on the other hand, seems to know exactly where we are. His footsteps never falter.

In a few minutes, he comes to a stop and I look up. In front of us is a small dock that overlooks a calm lake. Even in the dark, or maybe because of it, it is beautiful.

“Amazing,” I murmur, turning back to him with a smile. It’s secluded and romantic. It’s what you envision a lover taking the time to show you. It makes me feel special. Between this and the way he’s treated me since our first night, I feel like I matter to him. Still, I know I’m probably just fooling myself.

He brings his hand up and holds the side of my face. I lean into it, loving the connection with him. His thumb brushes my lips gently, almost reverently. I capture the tip of it with my teeth and hold it between my lips, letting my tongue tease it gently before letting go.

“One day, sweet Beth, I will learn all of your secrets.”

“Why?” I ask, confused.

“Because it’s needed,” he says cryptically.

I want to question him further, but I don’t. I follow him to the dock. He spreads out the blanket he brought with us, then sits down and reaches a hand toward me. I join him and lean into his body as we watch the water and the way the light of the moon reflects off of it, making the beams dance.

“What happened to your parents?” he asks, and I can’t help the way my body tenses up.

“They split up when I was young. My father took my sister Katie, and mom took me.”

“Pendejos,” he growls, squeezing me tighter. I look up in question. “Assholes,” he translates.

I nod. “Pretty much, yeah. They just never saw life beyond what or how it affected them. Anyway, I haven’t seen my father since. Not even for Katie’s funeral. Mom remarried and my stepfather wasn’t exactly a warm man. I don’t guess I’ve ever been close to anyone in my life. I do miss my mom, though. Her and my stepfather passed away in an accident. My stepbrothers were left as my guardians.”

“Lo siento, amor,” he whispers against my hair.

“Someday soon, I’m going to learn Spanish so that when I’m alone, I can think of our time together and understand all you’ve said to me,” I tell him without thinking. Every time he uses Spanish, I mourn that I don’t fully understand what he is saying.

He turns my face to look at him and, even with the darkness, his eyes draw me in.

“Tengo miedo han sido capturados. Nunca dejar ir,” he says, the lyrical words rolling off his tongue.

“What’d you just say?” I ask, my heart beating faster.

He smiles and kisses my forehead before lying back on the dock, lifting me under my arms as he does and bringing me atop him. Our lips are just a breath away from each other. Our eyes, locked on one another. My legs slide along his body so that I’m astride him and I find myself wishing we didn’t have clothes on.

“Come on, Skull. It’s not fair. Tell me what you just said.”

“I said that I fear your body has me captured. I need to fuck you again. Are you very sore?”

My face reddens at his frank words. But the instant he says them, I feel excitement pool between my legs. I am sore. Very sore, because Skull is not a small man. I don’t have anything to really judge him by, but I can’t imagine there are many—if any—larger.

But I know I won’t get to keep experiencing the pleasure he gives me. I greedily want all of it I can have.

“I’m good. I want you again too, Skull.”

“My sweet, sweet Beth,” he moans, his hand brushing the side of my face and his lips finding mine.

It’s a different type of kiss than the others we’ve shared. This one feels tender. Somehow, that moves me more than anything he’s ever given me. I lose myself in his taste and the warm, wet texture of his mouth. My tongue curves around his, sucking it in further, needing the silky feel and the way it heats my body on the inside. His hands move up my back and then back down where he cups my ass and grinds my body into his. I can feel the hard ridge of his cock against me and moan in response.

“Are you sure?” his raspy voice asks as his kisses trail down the side of my neck. He hones in on the juncture where my neck and shoulder meet and bites on the tight tendon there. I cry out softly in response, trying to buck restlessly against him. His strong hands keep me in place.

“Teach me… in your language.”

His tongue teases my skin, tracing my neck and under my chin, before looking up at me. “Beth…?”

“Teach me how to ask you to fuck me in Spanish,” I demand. I don’t know where the need comes from, I just know it’s there.

“Soy todo tuyo,” he tells me, and his eyes never leave mine as I say the words. It doesn’t ring true to me. Rosa taught us all a bunch of Spanish curse words, and none of the words Skull just gave me match what she said was Spanish for fuck. It doesn’t even match the words he said earlier. So, I commit these to memory—for two reasons. One, I want to know what he had me say. Two? I love the effect they have on him.

“Soy todo tuyo, Skull. Soy todo tuyo.”

Skull growls, flipping me over while already tearing my shirt from my body.

Oh, yes. I definitely want to know what I’ve just said to him. Definitely. And once he has us both naked and his hard cock drives into my body, I say it again just for good measure. I say it over and over. Skull wraps his hand in my hair and holds my body exactly how he wants it as he pounds me relentlessly, pushing us both over the edge.

My body shudders in the last aftershock of my orgasm and I feel our combined fluids leak between my thighs. I moan and tighten my muscles upon his cock, which is still semi-erect and deep inside of me. I want to scream that I love him, but I don’t. I can’t. But when he whispers, “I am yours too, mi cielo,” I smile. I am pretty sure those are the words he had me say in Spanish, and I’m okay with it. I’m more than okay because it doesn’t matter that I have to leave in a very short time.

It doesn’t matter at all, for it is true: I am his.