I laugh in spite of my sadness. “No drinks,” I tell him. I want to be sharp tomorrow. When I have to make the tough decision and walk away. “Just questions and answers tonight.”
We move to the bed.
He gently takes off my top and pants, then unfastens my bra.
I feel cold, but I ignore the chill in the air, and after he unzips his jeans, I tug them down over his hips. I memorize the hairs on his legs, the muscles of his thighs. I kneel on the floor and kiss the tiny birthmark under his belly button.
Then we climb into bed. We hold each other for a few minutes, and I run my fingers along his right arm. “Start here,” I ask him. “Tell me everything.”
We talk for what feels like hours. He tells me about the shitty tattoos he got when he was in high school and let one of his buddies who wanted to be a tattoo artist work on him. He has some cover-ups and some faded older work, but the gorgeous ink on his right shoulder and arm is what I’ll never forget.
His right shoulder has a skull etched in only black, the detail of the bones and shadows so intricate that it’s hard to look away from. The skull is what you’d notice if you only saw him in a sleeveless shirt, but along his triceps and over his shoulder are a flowing cloak and a scythe.
“The Grim Reaper?” I ask.
He nods. “King of Shadows.”
I rest my head on his chest and trace the lines of the skull with my fingers. “Are you a Shakespeare fan?”
Shadow snorts. “Sweetheart, I coasted through high school and never looked back. I don’t think I’ve ever even watched anything by Shakespeare, let alone read it.”
My hair spills out across his chest. “There is a fairy king in A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” I explain. “He is a contradictory guy. He’s a bit of a matchmaker in the story, and it all works out in the end, but he toys with people’s hearts,” I say. Shadow’s heart beats hard under my fingers, and I breathe in the scent of his skin. “At one point, he’s referred to as the King of Shadows. Obscure literary reference, I know. Nerd girl,” I explain, grinning.
“You’re that and more,” he says quietly.
He rolls onto his side to face me. We hold hands facing each other, and Shadow kisses my forehead, my eyes, my nose. I lift my lips to him, and the kisses are soft again, exploring. I feel the press of his thick erection bob against my skin, and I sigh.
“I’m gonna miss this.” I reach my hand between us and wrap my fingers around his shaft. I fondle the underside of his penis, the silver barbell threaded through the skin. “And this,” I say, stroking the silver balls on either side with my fingers.
He groans and flops over onto his back. I kneel over him and kiss the head of his penis, then lick long, wet strokes up the underside. I wrap my lips around just the tip and suck lightly, using my tongue to lap at the base of his head.
He relaxes into my efforts. I suck him into my mouth, using my hand to add pressure to the shaft and stroke my way up and down his erection while my mouth forms a tight seal over his head.
“Fuck, Violet.” He grabs my hair and helps me set the pace, moving my head up and down gently.
I suck him hard, wanting to finish him in my mouth. I want to feel him inside me. I want one more night of his mouth on me, his perfect body fitted to mine. But first, I want to please him. Give him the one thing we haven’t shared yet.
When he stills his hands in my hair and murmurs, “Sweetheart, stop,” I don’t. I look up at him, my lips still wrapped around his cock.
He groans deep in his chest at the sight, and I smile, pulling my mouth from him only long enough to say, “Come in my mouth, Shadow. I want you to.”
He shakes his head. “I want to fuck you.”
“Later,” I promise. “First, I want this.”
I suck him all the way into my mouth and use both hands, one to circle his shaft and the other to gently cup his balls. I lift the weight of his sack and stroke the tender seam just underneath. He bucks hard and gasps, working his hips so his cock goes even deeper into my mouth.
I have to make an effort to stifle the impulse to gag, but I quickly recover. My mouth floods with saliva, and I use it to slick my tongue all over the head of his cock. I jerk him off with one hand while I cup his balls and suck him deep. The whole world fades to darkness as I slam my eyes shut and focus on his pleasure. I want to feel the moment when he loses control, when he chases that bliss to the edge and then dives, dives, dives.
“Violet…baby…sweet…fuck…”
He pants and curses, dropping f-bombs, his hands splayed out beside him on the bed. I love it. Love that I can bring this to him. Give him this intensity. I want to remember it, how this feels, him losing control and giving everything he is over to me.
I don’t ever remember giving someone oral sex before coming close to this. My mouth is wet, drooling with the size of him, my lips and jaw tightening with exhaustion, and yet, I suck and bob my head, lost to a frenzy of my own making. I want to pull the arousal from his body, force it into my mouth, and taste it. I want to drink him down.
I feel both dirty and excited, my body thrumming with life and need. I have to ignore the throb between my legs because there is no way I’m moving my hands to touch myself. I’ll take care of myself later. Right now, I’m one with Shadow, part of the moment and pleasure and pain that makes this us.
Then, I feel it. His body tightens and his breathing changes.
