Page 78 of Endless Love

I uncap the antibiotic ointment, starting to spread it across the wounds. “My life was meaningless and grey before you. I hadpeople who meant something to me—who meant a lot to me, like Jaz and Sarah and Zoe. I had others who gave my life meaning, but I hadn’t given it any meaning for myself. I was too afraid to give myself anything that I wanted. And then I met you—and you didn’t just give it meaning. You made me feel like I could do it for myself. Like I could reach out, and take the things I wanted, without being ashamed about it. Like I could live my life without having to apologize for who I was, adventurous or not. Brave or not. And in the process of that, I’ve found out I’m actually a lot braver than I thought I was.”

I unwrap a gauze pad, pressing it over the wound on his shoulder, taping it down with medical tape. “I feel alive, now. Scared, and a little bit lost, but alive. I don’t know how we move forward from this, but I want to. I don’t want to go our separate ways, and I don’t want to leave you behind. And even if everything was wrong from the beginning—I do believe you, Ivan. I believe you love me. I believe you care about me. I believe you want me…and I want you, too.”

I finish bandaging his side, sitting back as I look at him. He’s very still, breathing shallowly, and his skin still has that waxy grey cast. But there’s nothing else I can do but wait.

I pack up everything left in the first-aid kit, setting it aside. I wash my hands, stripping off my blood-stained clothes, and I shower quickly, not wanting to leave Ivan alone for too long.

When I come out, he’s still passed out, but still breathing. I crawl into bed next to him, once again careful not to jostle him. I’m exhausted, but I don’t want to fall asleep. I’m terrified that when I wake up, he will have stopped breathing.

There’s nothing more I can do, except stay with him, but I lay there fighting sleep for a long time anyway. Sleep comes all the same, the exhaustion of the past weeks and the day we just went through catching up, and it drags me under eventually.

It’s fully dark when I wake up again. The clock next to the bed says it’s after one in the morning. My stomach is hollow, grumbling from how hungry I am, but there’s no food in the room and I don’t dare go out for anything. I push myself up on one elbow, brushing my hair out of my face, and my heart leaps when I see Ivan blink his eyes.

“You’re awake!” I gasp it aloud, and Ivan lets out a low groan, opening his eyes a little wider.

“I am. I think.” He swallows, and it sounds sticky. “Water?”

“Oh! Hold on.” I jump up, fumbling through the backpack for a bottle. “Do you want ibuprofen?”

“Anything.” He coughs, and lets out a moan of pain. “Oh, god. Being shot sucks so fucking much.”

I stare at him for a moment. “You’re about to tell me this isn’t your first time, aren’t you?”

“It’s definitely not. But I don’t think it’s ever been this bad before. Or maybe I just blocked it out.” He takes the water and ibuprofen from me. “Thank you.”

“I tried to patch you up. I don’t know—” I frown, looking at the bandages, which have turned a bit pink from the blood trickle. “I think it helped.”

“I feel like death warmed over, but I’m alive, so I’d say it definitely helped.” Ivan manages a crooked smile. “And you said you love me, so that helped, too. And that you’d be—what was it?Devastatedif you lost me.”

My eyes widen. “You heard all of that? I thought you were passed out?”

“Maybe my next career will be acting.” Ivan’s smile spreads, though it’s still weaker than usual. “Staying quiet while you put straight alcohol on raw gunshot wounds was definitely a challenge. But worth it, to keep you talking.”

“You—” I lunge for him, stopping myself just in time before I accidentally hurt him. “I’m going to get you back for that later. When you’re better.”

“Just as long as you’re still with me, I don’t care.” Ivan’s gaze sweeps over me, and I see a hungry look flicker into his eyes, one that I hadn’t expected in his current state. He’s still shirtless, and as I let myself briefly look him over—telling myself that I’m just making sure he’s otherwise uninjured—I see the ridge of his cock thickening against the front of his jeans.

“Ivan.” I stare at him. “You lost way too much blood for that to actually be happening.”

“You would think.” Ivan shifts, wincing. He starts to raise his hand, as if to reach down and adjust his rapidly hardening cock, but that seems to hurt too much, and he drops it again. “Fuck. God, just looking at you makes me hard.”

I look down at myself. “I’m wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he assures me. “Just you being in the same room is enough to turn me on. Every last ounce of blood that was still in my body is in my cock right now. God, I’m so hard it fucking hurts.” He winces, and then looks over at me, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “You wouldn’t want me to be in pain, would you? You went to a lot of trouble to patch me up.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you want me to do about it?”

I meant it to be teasing, but Ivan looks at me with utter, desperate sincerity in his face and voice. “Your mouth,” he manages, his voice breathless. “Please, little dove. Give me your mouth.”

The way he says it sends a jolt of hot arousal flooding through me. I nod, suddenly speechless, and shift over between his legs, sliding down as I reach for the button of his jeans. “You’ll tell me to stop if this hurts you, right?” I ask cautiously, and Ivan nods.

“I will, but—fuck, please, Charlotte.”

He moans as I undo the button of his jeans, his hips arching upwards, his cock a hard line threatening to burst out of his zipper. “Hearing you tell me you want me,” he pants, “made me so fucking needy. I need you to make me come. Knowing you want to stay with me—god, I fucking need you right now. If I could, I’d pin you down to the bed and fuck you until you screamed my name. But I can’t, so—” He groans again as I drag his zipper down, his cock pushing free of his boxers before I can even reach in and slip it out. “Make me come. Please. Make yourself come while you suck me.Please?—”

The sound he makes when I wrap my lips around his swollen cockhead is enough to send a flood of arousal soaking between my legs. His hips buck weakly upwards, begging for more as I slide my mouth down his length, his tip already wet with pre-cum. I lift my hips enough to push my other hand beneath myself, slipping my fingers into my panties as I start to lick and suck my way up and down Ivan’s hard shaft. I’m drenched, coating my own fingers the second I slide them over my slippery clit and I gasp as I slide my mouth up, sucking hard at his cockhead before I go down again, letting him push into my throat.

I’m close already. I grind against my hand, rubbing my clit faster as I run my tongue up and down, fluttering it just under his tip. Ivan moans, his eyes closing, his head tipping back as I work his cock, wrapping my hand around the base of it as I suck hard.

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