Page 64 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

“I want you to claim me. I want this to be our beginning.” He leaned down, slamming their mouths together. Their tongues twisted and tangled around in their mouths until Alexander could no longer tell which was his and which was Elliot’s. He kept his eyes open, locked right on Elliot. Pulling away, he panted in Elliot’s face, feeling dazed.

“Alexander?”

Alexander was feeling so many emotions. It was like his body was a powder keg, waiting to blow. He wanted this with Elliot. Forever. A happy ever after.

“Marry me?” Alexander whispered. “Please, Elliot? I want this with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

As Elliot’s eyes flooded with unshed tears, Alexander prepared for the oncoming pain. He hadn’t bottomed in ages, and he wasn’t prepped, so it was going to burn. Alexander knew it would feel as if he was being split open, but that was what he wanted. He wanted Elliot to crack him down the middle until every trace of his love was fully visible. To aim that love at Elliot, so he never felt alone again.

He lowered himself until Elliot’s cockhead pressed against his entrance. “Well?” Alexander was breathless, already feeling uncomfortable pressure as he sunk down at a snail’s pace. “Will you?”

Elliot’s eyes were blasting every color of the rainbow, so Alexander couldn’t gauge his emotions. He thought Elliot would say yes, but without the lights to guide him, Alexander felt naked. Granted, he was naked, but it was a newfound nakedness. Stripped free of pretense and subtlety, Alexander was laid bare before the man he loved. He’d put himself out there in a way he swore he never would. Your heart can’t break if it never leaves your chest.

The longer their silence permeated the room, the more vulnerable and exposed Alexander felt. He placed his heart out there for Elliot to do with as he pleased, but Elliot was doing nothing. He was saying nothing, and it terrified him.

Elliot placed his hands on Alexander’s hips, arched his back, and breached the rim. “Yes,” he breathed, sliding in with ease. The burn was deep and undeniable, but Alexander loved it. More than that, he was living for it. It was the simple sense of pain that reminded Alexander he was alive. “Yes, Alexander. Of course, I’ll marry you.”

Tears fell down Alexander’s cheeks. “I love you.”

Elliot kissed the tip of his finger and offered it to Alexander. Alexander puckered his lips to Elliot’s fingertip and smiled. “I love you, too.”

Alexander rolled his hips, trying to keep his weight off Elliot as he fucked himself on the smaller man’s cock. It didn’t take long before Elliot was moaning like a wanton tramp. Good. Alexander liked him that way. He wanted to see Elliot dirty himself up a bit more.

“I’m close,” Elliot whispered before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Alexander rode him faster, desperate to bring Elliot to release. “That’s it. Come for me, baby.”

Elliot’s eyes rolled back in his head, more blasting pink light pouring out, sparkling against the waterglass on their bedside table and sending pink fractals dancing against the walls. With a final roar, Elliot exploded, shooting jet after jet of steaming cum into him, painting his insides until every inch was drenched.

As they laid there, side by side, their fingers laced, Elliot tilted his head to meet Alexander’s gaze. “Did you mean it? About marrying you?”

Alexander brought Elliot’s hand to his mouth and kissed his palm. “I want that. I want to build a life with you.”

Elliot sniffled, nodding slowly. “I want that, too.”

Alexander opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, his phone rang. He reached for it, surprised to see his mother calling. He motioned for Elliot to give him a moment, then answered the phone, pulling Elliot closer.

“Lexy.” She sounded worried. He hadn’t heard her sound nervous in years; not since she moved to Sugarplum Island. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What’s wrong?”

His mother sighed. “They found a body.”

Elliot wanted to himself into a ball in the closet and hide. The day Jared’s body was found, it was all anyone had talked about. While the island was abuzz with chatter, Elliot hid away in their cottage, refusing to leave the bedroom; terrified police were coming to drag him away from Alexander.

Then, nothing.

No one came for Elliot. The buzz around the island died down. No one questioned Elliot or even Duck and Goose. Things returned to normal, although nothing about the situation seemed normal at all. Two months later, Elliot still felt stuck, like a dying man awaiting his final breath.

Elliot paced the room, frightened, but refusing to let the fear claim him. He had a call to make. It wasn’t a call he wanted to make, but after spending two months on Sugarplum Island with Alexander Davenport, Elliot’s baby bump swelling wider and wider, he knew there was no choice. Honey was due in less than a month, and Elliot had no idea how to deliver her. Alexander had made calls—using his financial status to pull favors—but they were still waiting to hear from the creationists at the other automaton centers. Mother was the only one who dared create hybrids, and considering she was probably at the bottom of the ocean, Elliot didn’t put much stock in her being able to help.

Staring at the phone Alexander gave him a few days after arriving on the island, he tried to hide his emotions. Elliot had to go directly to the source; the phone rang twice before a frazzled-sounding Clarence answered. “Ms. Broussard’s Home for Bountiful Beaus. Clarence speaking, how may I help?”

Elliot took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Clarence, it’s Elliot.” He knew there were other Elliot’s out there, so he clarified, “Elliot Price. Well, soon to be Davenport, but still.”

Silence. It stretched all the way from Sugarplum Island to his childhood home in New Orleans.

“You have quite the nerve calling here after what you pulled. Do you know how long I spent searching the sea for Mother? Do you, Elliot?”

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