Page 71 of Love Sick

The room is pitch black, only the moonlight providing some silver light to steal the darkness.

I kiss the tip of Luna’s nose. “And she will. But we have to behave somewhat until we do what they want. I won’t lose you again. I fucked up once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Luna is silent as she places her palm to my chest. My scar has long healed, but when she touches it, like always, it aches.

“He doesn’t talk to you anymore, does he?”

“I’m not sure that he ever did,” I reply. “Is your memory coming back?”

She nods slowly. “Every day, every minute, I remember more and more. I remember Jonathan. He was a horrible man. I tried to protect Misha from him, but I didn’t realize he needed him. I was wrong not to tell him the truth.”

“You did what you thought was right.”

“I know, but I can’t help but think all of this is my fault.” Her voice breaks. “Misha might still be alive—”

“Don’t think that,” I say, quickly defusing that thought. “The thing about hindsight is that it’s fucking useless. You tried to protect your boy, as every mother should. There’s nothing for you to feel guilty about.”

“How did we get here?” It’s a rhetorical question. “This is so crazy.”

“Yeah, it really is. There is no silver lining in this situation, but I don’t regret meeting you. I just wish both of us could be here. It’s because of Misha that I’m alive and for that, I am thankful to him, and to you. I know you might resent me for the fact, but I would have happily given up my life if it meant he could live.”

The moon decides to go into hiding, veiling the room in darkness. But I don’t need to see Luna to witness her tears.

Luna and I have been more apart than together, but our love has survived, and that means something. To feel this way about her, this is real. We fight harder for each other’s safety than we do our own, and if that’s not true love, then I don’t know what love is.

“Luna, I—”

But she doesn’t let me finish.

She closes the space between us, pressing her lips to mine. The moment we kiss, I forget everything but the way she tastes and feels. I get lost in the emotion because this is more than a physical connection; this is fate.

I draw her closer so we’re pressed chest to chest, our hearts beating in unison which is tragically beautiful. Threading my fingers through her long hair, I take control, fucking her mouth with my tongue. She moans, as I know she likes it rough.

My dick is instantly hard, pressed against her, and I want nothing more than to slip inside her and forget this nightmare we call our reality.

With our mouths still locked, Luna reaches down and begins jerking me off.

It’s now my turn to moan as her touch sets me on fire.

We continue kissing as she works me into a fucking mess. She can do whatever she wants to me. I am hers.

She breaks our kiss, only to continue those kisses down my throat and over my chest. I roll onto my back, surrendering myself to this woman whom I love more than anyone in this world. She scores her fingernails down my stomach as she rests between my legs.

The moment she takes my dick into her mouth, I close my eyes and die a thousand fucking deaths. She uses her hand to stroke me as her mouth and tongue work me in ways I never thought possible. Reaching down, I gently place my hand on the back of her head, but she interlaces her fingers through mine, coaxing me to mouth fuck her.

When I hit the back of her throat, she gags, but instead of pulling away, she recovers, only to continue giving me the blow job of my life. But this relationship is a two-way street, so I yank her up, spin her so she’s lying on my chest and I can eat her pussy as my dick slides back into her hot mouth.

Her shapely ass is in my face and I want to eat that too, so I grip her hips and position her so I can slide my tongue between her pussy and ass. She whimpers around my dick but doesn’t stop. I tongue fuck her ass, while I play with her pussy, and she is so damn wet, all I want to do is feel her as she’s riding my cock.

She rocks against my tongue and mouth; she wants to come.

So I lift her up and turn her so she’s facing me. I don’t need words; our bodies speak for us.

She positions herself as she grips my cock, before sliding down onto me. Her whimpers have my dick only growing harder.

The moment I’m fully sheathed, a sated moan leaves her, and then, then she begins to move.

She places her hands on my chest, rocking her hips as she fucks me—slow at first, before picking up the pace.

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