Page 76 of The Lottery

The snow outside is no longer a threat, instead buffering sounds from the outside world.

I only hear the soft hum of the fire… and Azalea’s breath.

We are safe.

We are together.

That is what matters.

When I turn to her, her face is inches away, her eyes looking up into mine expectantly.

Without a word, both of us remove our jackets. As she starts on her boots, I pull a self-inflating mattress from my bag and throw it on the cave floor.

I kick off my own shoes while Azalea pulls my shirt over my head. Despite the frigid air, heat radiates from both of our bodies. The sooner our naked flesh is in contact, the warmer we will be.

I lift Azalea’s undershirt while she unbuckles my belt.

I take off her bra as she pulls my pants down, taking a moment to run her tongue along my shaft before standing, igniting a crazed passion within me.

She pushes her own pants to the ground as I take her face in my hands, kissing her deeply and pulling her body into mine.

At last, we stand before each other. Bare. Beautiful. Ready.

The outside world is barricaded away, a fortress of snow between us and the rest of the world.

I lay her on the mattress by the fire, our bodies come together as one.

I have her.

She has me.

In this moment, the universe is perfect.

21

ZAE

“The supreme reality of our time is…our common vulnerability on this planet.”

—John F. Kennedy

* * *

The snow storm outside blankets our world in silence as Marek and I lose ourselves in each other.

For this moment, this endless exhale, we become one as everything else fades away.

I have long craved this… a total bearing of our bodies and souls to each other. To stand naked before one another.

And the reality does not disappoint. If anything, the real flesh and blood Marek is a thousand times better than my fantasy of him.

He is breathtaking. A specimen of god-like perfection, from his chiseled abs to the long, lean muscles of his legs, to his bulging biceps. But what truly steals my breath--and my heart--is the way he looks at me. The way his gaze holds mine, full of unspoken desire, whispered with the touch of his hand.

He is only a foot away, beads of water running down his naked chest, the hunger in his eyes lighting a fire in my belly.

“I need you,” he says, his eyes blue flames against the darkness of the cave, the firelight flashing in them. He looks at me as if he might devour me, and I find that is all I want. To be consumed by him. To consume him. To satiate this shared desire.

I can barely find my voice to respond.

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