Page 55 of The Last Sunrise

“Not yet.” He lifts his head just as my back bows off the bed to climax. I nearly scream at the physical frustration, the need to release. He blows a puff of cold air, kisses my core once again, this time his teeth scraping gently, dragging them to the top of my thigh. “I want to feel you come around me.”

I spring up, catching him off guard and pushing him back onto the mattress, yanking at his shirt, not caring as at least two of the buttons pops off and skitter across the hardwood floor. I kiss and suck at his broad chest as I remove his shirt, my hands fumbling for the button of his pants, trying my hardest not to destroy them. I do the same with his briefs, pulling them down his thick, muscular thighs, and my mouth waters as I take in the length of him as it springs free. Throbbing, hard, waiting for me. Mine.

He’s quicker, stronger than me as he wraps his arms around my back, flipping us over, hovering over my face, nose to nose. He pulls at the thin straps on my dress, and I feel the fabric ripping somewhere in the distance, but I can’t be bothered to care, not as Julián teases my aching entrance, pressing gently, but not fully entering me.

“Stop torturing me,” I whine, lifting my hips to meet him.

With a wicked smile and one swift movement, he plunges inside me. I cry out, screaming in surprise and ecstasy as he slides back out, and in, and out, and in. My nails rake across his back, his beautiful eyes never leaving mine as he fills me, body and soul. Fast, then slow, deep then shallow, he pulls himself out and has the nerve to rub his cock across my aching clit. Release immediately rolls over me like a crashing wave, one after another, after another as he thrusts back into me, kissing my mouth again, my name falling from his lips as his control slips and his body stills and he finds his release, slowly moving in and out again, to draw out my pleasure as I go limp, my arms and legs fall open onto the mattress and his warm body collapses onto mine. Our breathing in unison, harsh and shallow at first, slows into a deep pattern as I gently run my fingers up and down his sweat-covered back.

“I’m so sorry, Ry. I was so wrong for how I treated you earlier. It’s wrong, but I felt like it was easier to just shut you out… I do that sometimes, when life gets too hard, too heavy. I shut down and run. I didn’t know what else to do but run away from you and I couldn’t do that, so I pushed you away instead. None of this is your fault, Ry. I know that, and I’m sorry I didn’t try… for you. I just let the anger and the darkness pull me in and shut you out. I know your heart, and Iknow you would never be responsible for what’s happening. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this, at being with someone, but I’m so sorry. And I’m sorry for how many times I seem to be sorry for being an asshole.”

“Shhh, Julián. I should be apologizing to you. You were right, I did show up there for my own selfishness, but also for you. I meant it when I said I would do anything to help, and I tried and still will, but don’t apologize anymore. We’re here now, that’s what matters.” I put my hand on the back of his neck and his eyes pour into mine as he shakes his head.

“What matters is respecting you, hearing your opinions and your side of what’s happening, and I didn’t do that. I failed you and was wrong. I need to apologize for taking my anguish out on you.” His tone is so serious, so calm, with zero room for his typical sarcasm or either of our deflections.

“You deserve an apology, and you deserve respect. I will never disrespect you like that again. I will never treat you like that again. Whatever happened with our parents is between them, and I know you had nothing to do with it. It’s not going to be easy, but please, please, forgive me for my lack of control, lack of thinking before lashing out at the wrong person.”

His mouth presses gently against my nose and I smile, not only at his sincere apology, but for the way his words fill the gaping hole that had been burned in my chest since I saw the way he looked at me when he found out who my mother was.

When I open my mouth to speak, he rolls me over to lie on my stomach, perching his chin on his elbow. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Anything but that. You shouldn’t spend one more moment of your life being sorry for things you don’t have control of.”

I nod as he caresses my back, tracing circles and shapes against my skin, stopping at the spot above my tailbone. “I love your birthmark.” His lips touch the ash leaf spot on my lower back, and I tense.

“Thank you” is all I can manage.

A half-truth. Technically, I was born with it, but it’s not just a simple birthmark. I have other ones, too, scattered across the tops of my thighs and a few tiny ones around my ankles that he probably, like most people, hasn’t noticed, or assumed were just spots from the sun, despite their lack of pigment.

“Your poor dress,” he says, thumbing the now-disconnected strap between his calloused fingers.

“Your poor shirt.” We both glance around us. “I don’t even know where it is.” Our laughter matches as he sits up, pointing to the chair across the room. How it got all the way over there, I have no clue.

“What are we going to wear to go back down? I can wear my shirt open, but your mother and her donors may take issue with that.” A satisfied, mischievous grin spreads across his hauntingly beautiful face.

“You’re not going down there with your shirt open, not because of my mother or the bullshit donors and investors,” I say as I trace the plane of his chest with my fingertip. “But because I don’t want the women looking at you, and trust me, they will.” Jealousy pangs my chest, and I press my finger to my chin, thinking of a solution.

“I have an oversized button-down. Not the same color, but it’ll do. And if anyone notices, they were looking too closely at you in the first place.” I glare from the thought.

“Since when are you jealous and territorial? That’s supposed to be my role,” he teases, kissing my shoulder as he helps me from the bed and onto my feet, heels still on.

“Since you came back to me. I don’t want to share you.”

“I’m yours, Oriah. And yours only. I don’t have eyes, or space in my heart, for anyone else.”

The words sing through my ears, filling my brain with sunshine and joy. I want to tell him that I love him, that I love him so much that it might rip me in two, that I love him so much that I want to fight to stay with him as long as I can. Not only our circumstances and distance, but my body, which is our biggest threat. Before I got on the plane to come here, I had given up on fighting, was exhausted even at the thought of continuing to do so, but now, looking at this man and feeling love, true and infinite love, gives me the strength to want to try.

“And I’m yours, Julián,” I finally say as I kiss his flushed cheek and open the wardrobe, hoping there’s a backup dress inside.

“Problem solved!” I smile, holding up the burgundy dress that I almost chose to wear tonight. Julián helps me into it and removes the dangling flowers from my now messy hair. I run my fingers over it, not really caring what I look like, still floating from Julián’s presence.

“This room is…” He glances from the sitting area to the couch, to the massive bed, to the expansive bathroom. “Much bigger than I thought.”

I nod as I step back into my heels. “Yeah, it’s too big for one person. But there is unlimited water, and the hotel does its best at being eco-friendly.” I cringe at my excuses. “I keep telling myself that so I don’t feel guilty staying here, anyway.”

He’s quiet and a little on edge. The tick of his jaw makes me nervous, but with everything going on, he has every reason to be.

“Is your home in Texas like this?” His voice is quiet.

I nod. “Yes and no. It’s new, so the architecture is nothing like this, not nearly as beautiful. But…” I hesitate. “It’s a really big house, honestly. Too big for two people, and shows firsthand how classism and socioeconomic systems work in the States.”

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