Not when I knew the end would come shortly after, and with it, the destruction of the tentative peace we’d forged between us. There would be nothing but friction between us now, and I didn’t want to learn whether we would strain to keep away from each other or fight to stay together.
But just like every other encounter with Lucas, my desires surrendered to him. He wanted my orgasm, so he got it. Heripped away the shreds of restraint I still possessed and tossed me onto a new plane of fiery, torturous pleasure.
The intensity took me by surprise, like a gunshot to the heart. The air wrenched from my lungs to make room for a sizzling wave of ecstasy unlike any climax I’d ever known. It burned down to the very core of me, installing something inside that belonged solely to him.
Waves of pleasure swelled and crested, and I rode each one to its peak, mindless with the desire formore…now…forever.
I was breathing hard against his neck when I returned to myself, and he used my body to find his own release, withdrawing and spilling onto my abdomen with a low groan.
Foreheads pressed together, we breathed in time with one another, letting the seconds stretch and snap around us.
Then he looked down.
He stared at his spend, dripping down my skin. His thumb dragged through it, smearing it across the indents from the band of my shorts.
I peered into his face as it grew paler and paler, and the last thing he said drifted through my mind.
You make me want to live.
His focus trained on the mess he’d made while I closed my legs and hastily pulled my bra to cover myself. Any rays of vulnerability I might have glimpsed disappeared as he stepped back, tucking himself away. The bleakness in his eyes gave way to something utterly dispassionate, and he met my gaze.
“This isn’t a love story,” he said in a dead voice.
I crossed my arms and ankles, wishing for more cover, but my clothes were strewn across the room. “I know.”
“This is a tragedy.”
I swallowed, and my reply emerged thready. “I know.”
Retreating further, he scraped his fingers through his hair, the gold ring flashing in the candlelight. Ocean eyes latched onto me. He looked caged. Hunted.
“Lucas—”
He raised a hand to cut me off, sharp and precise. With one last glance, he turned and left, closing the front door softly behind him.
I blinked at it, waiting for him to return, but seconds and then minutes passed with nothing but silence. When goosebumps chased themselves over my arms and a small shiver wracked my frame, I slid from the sideboard, but I didn’t reach for my clothes. Instead, I fled into the master bedroom and checked whether Lucas had found a way to power this house’s water heater.
The stream from the sink ran for thirty seconds before it warmed, and illogical tears sprang to my eyes. My bra landed in a mangled heap on the floor, and I stepped into the hot shower.
Only then did I allow myself to cry.
The tears were silent but profuse, dripping to mingle with the water as it made jagged rivulets down my body. It washed away all evidence that Lucas had ever been there, and my heart didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or cry harder.
When the warmth faded, I stepped out and raided his drawer of Sophia clothes, using a T-shirt to dry myself, then throwing on the sweats he liked best. After retrieving the note I always kept on me from the pocket of my shorts and tucking it into my bra, I sank onto the bed, uncertain what to do.
My mind wanted to relive it—every burning moment, each desperate kiss—but my heart wasn’t so sure. It seemed to sense I’d stumbled into something far out of my depth, and it whispered to be careful.
You’ve suffered so much, it said.This will end in pain.
Eventually, I crawled into the bed, curling up in the same spot I’d lain after Lucas told me about Tekqua. As I shut my eyes, I thought of the Lucas from my dream all those months ago.
He’d warned me to watch my blindside.
Why didn’t I realize that he was the one standing there?
The next morning,I woke alone, and my heart sank. Had I really expected him to return? What deranged reality was I living in, seriously? Before the disappointment could morph into more tears, I forced myself out of bed and into the morning sun. My bike sat in the exact place I’d left it, and on my ride, I let the chilly fall air serve as a slap to the face. A wake-up call.
Lucas was right.
