Page 87 of Light As A Feather
Don’t you dare leave me again.
At the same time, I’m lost for words, simply reveling in the solidity of his existence. Feeling the hard truth of his bodybeneath mine, the heat of his palms, the fan of his breath, it rights me, anchors me in this in-between space, the untetherable time I’ve been slipping through.
This isreal.
“You summoned me?” I ask uncertainly.
“You came,” he says like it’s an answer to a prayer before wrapping his arms around my back and crushing me against him as he devours my mouth.Consuming. Desperate. Heartbreaking.“How could you leave me?” he mumbles against me, without giving me a chance to answer him.
Matching his need, my tongue chases his, twisting and tangling, claiming and yearning. Fisting his shirt, digging my nails into his skin, I cling to him like a lifeline. If I could crawl inside him and become one entity, I would, if only to never be separated from him again.
Wordlessly, we tear at each other’s clothes, rustling and panting a chorus of need. When we’re naked and there’s no more distance between us, that quaking panic that’s been drumming inside me finally rolls to a stop. For a moment, at least, I’m going to be okay.
“You woke me up from a very bad dream,” I whisper against his neck as I kiss every inch of skin I can reach. He’s heavenly, resplendent as the flickering candles take their turns illuminating his perfect features. I never understood religion until this moment. The devotion of it always evaded me. But I see now that I could easily offer my soul in service to his if only he’d look at me lovingly like this for all eternity and hold me in the glorious salvation of his arms.
“Where the fuck have you been?” The bite in his words is what I need, drawing blood that shouldn’t run through my veins but seemingly does in his presence.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”
As if testing the validity of the claim, he grips me tighter, his fingers sinking deeper into my hip, the other curling around the back of my neck, like he can keep me here if he just holds on hard enough.
“I’ve missed you,” he finally says, resting his head on my chest a moment before his lips seek out my nipple. The moment his mouth clamps around me, I’m lost to the demanding, unfiltered desire of it. Taking my breast in my hand, I push more of myself into his mouth. He takes it greedily, punishingly as his teeth nip. My hips roll of their own volition, chasing more of him. “I need you to make me feel alive again. Because right now, this world is lacking reasons for me to stay. Make me feel something, I can’t stand another second of being numb. Convince me to keep going; convince me to take one breath, then another with this perfect fucking pussy.”
“Mourn me like this. Make love to me in eulogy,” I beg, moved by his words, as one hand slips beneath my thighs and drags wetness over my clit, slicking some of it over the weeping head of his cock that’s hard and twitching between us. Placing my palms on the carpet, I lean back, baring more of myself to him as I drag the center of my aching cunt up and down his shaft, simply enjoying the solid length of him.
Between us, moonlight bathes the union of our bodies in silver light, illuminating every scar, every dip and curve that his hands explore reverently, like he’s seeing me naked for the first time. Palms following the rolling landscape of my sides, touching lower and lower as he adds fuel to the inferno of desire inside me that nearly combusts when his fingers fan across the expanse of my soft thighs and he spreads me wider, giving himself a front-row view to my dripping pussy that begs for every inch of him.
“If this is mourning, I can’t get enough of grieving you,” he groans as he strokes his thumbs along my labia, the tease ofit forcing my back to arch as my body eagerly opens for him. Slipping both fingers along my center, he watches me pulse and writhe. “How can anything be so goddamned divine?”
Hawthorne wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close, holding my jaw in a firm grip with his other hand. “Give me your tongue.” The command urges me into immediate compliance. “Tip your head back.” His blunt nails skate along my scalp as he pulls my hair to angle me just so. “Yeah, like that.”
He spits onto my waiting tongue, and I curl it into my mouth without question, moaning at the delicious taste of him. His hand captures my throat, as if he could claim my moan, and tilts my head even further back to invade my mouth to take back what he’s just bestowed on me.
Releasing me, he eases me back until my arms are outstretched and my hips are forced forward just so, tilting upward to present my pussy to him like a meal. Finally, he releases the stolen saliva. We both watch, transfixed, as it runs down the roll of my lower stomach, rushing downstream as it coats my throbbing clit and drips down my center. I clamp on nothing, a shudder coursing through me.
A deep groan that I can feel all the way down to my own toes reverberates through him as he spreads it over my cunt. Every sweep of his thumb has me squirming. Gripped by my own depravity, I grind my hips against him, hungry for friction after being left starved and empty.I’m resurrected by my lust.
“Fuck me,” I plead, rolling my nipple between my fingers to take the edge off as I wind tighter and tighter with each meeting of his hard dick against my throbbing pussy.
“You’re going to come like this.”
I whimper in protest.
“And then, I’ll fuck you,” he reassures me. “But first, you’re going to drench every inch of me from top to bottom.”
“I need you inside me now.”
“Then you better make yourself come.”
Taking his dick in my hand, I hold him steady as I drag myself up and down his shaft, jerking my hips so the tip pushes against my clit in a way that has my toes curling into the plush rug beneath us.
“There you go.” He caresses the back of my thighs, chasing away some of the burning that gathers in my muscles as I buck my hips. Sweeping his hands upward, he cups my ass and drags me toward him, mercifully helping me get the friction I need to tumble over the edge of the tease and find my orgasm. Trembling, I continue the grinding frenzy until it’s too much and then collapse back into the floor, not concerned in the least with the uncomfortable angle I’m contorted in.
Carefully, he unfolds my legs from under me, wrapping them around his waist as he leans forward to hover over me. I let my ragged breaths fill the space between us as he brushes my hair away from my face and kisses his way across my shoulders. My eyes drift closed under the featherlight touch he traces my tattoos with.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, Nightingale. You’re not done. Not even close; we’re just getting started.”
“Of course I’m not done, I need you inside me,” I gasp, reaching for his dick. With steady strokes, I bring him closer until the crown of him notches at my entrance. But the tease comes and goes as he sits back on his calves.
