He repeats the rhythm, sucking and licking. My orgasm comes fast as I let myself explode down his talented mouth. Ethan moans as I fill his mouth. Nothing is more sexy than your partner enjoying how you taste.
As I come down from my high, Ethan moves around the room, getting ready to come to bed as I bask in my glow. I haven’t made him cum, and when I go to return the gesture, he stops me.
“I already jerked off to your pants when I was in the shower,” he says.
“Did you sniff my underwear?”
“Of course. They smelled of you and I couldn’t help it. Never leave out your underwear unless you want me to jerk off. Put them in the laundry.”
“You really are a special guy, Ethan,” I chuckle as he wraps his arms around me and I fall into the best sleep of my life. Content and safe, living my dream that I never thought was possible.
CHAPTER 34 - ETHAN
Six months later
Light spills from the glass ceiling, touching steel and shadow, kissing the shapes that have lived in his hands long before they lived in this room. The sculpture stands in careful formation in the lobby of my hotel, its curved spines of metal, hollow hearts, endless loops folding into themselves. Infinity symbol.
Six months ago, Leo would have stayed near the walls, shoulders drawn inward, eyes lowered as if the world looked down on him and expected him to fail. Be a laughing stock. But now he fills the space with confidence, with talent.
The tailored black suit fits him like a glove. His hair is a little longer and those talented hands, scarred and beautiful on display, are steady at his sides.
I decided to do a big reveal of his creation, not just because he’s my man, but to get his talent known outthere. I have the contacts, and I want him to succeed. After all, he did all the hard work.
I watch him from the other side of the lobby, with a glass of untouched champagne cooling in my hand. Investors murmur behind me, critics pretend not to stare at me, wondering about my personal life more than looking at the masterpiece in front of us. The city’s elite hover like insects drawn to brilliance they do not understand. I just know these arrogant rich assholes will spend their money and Leo will become an overnight success. New Yorkers love an up and coming artist, to feel like they were involved in their sudden success.
Leo moves over to the sculpture and catches everyone’s attention before he breathes in to compose himself. He was dreading this part, talking in public, but he shouldn’t. This is his dream. I’m proud of him as he begins to talk, with zero tremble in his voice.
He talks about form and about negative space. About how infinity is not a number but a direction. About grief that bends into beauty when shaped by time and pressure.
They listen and eat up his analysis. I just stare at his beauty, at how he is mine. A completion.
Six months ago, he would wake from sleep like someone surfacing from darkness, confused about where he belonged in the world. But now he wakes before me, is the first to make coffee, eager to start the day.
I occasionally watch him work at the warehouse. He loves to work with music blaring, humming when he is crafting, losing himself to the art. It’s a beautiful processto watch. Socially he is more relaxed. He likes to join me at Starlight once a week and he meets up occasionally outside of that with Seb where they talk about music and motorcycles. At home he trades insults over texts with Danny, which can be an irritance.
But the main thing is he has real friends. People who genuinely like his company. Yes I get jealous, but I’m always in his line of vision.
Seb has been a godsend, as he knows better than anyone what it’s like to move from civilian life into a darker world. It’s worse for him as Dima lives and breathes the underworld, but he can empathise with Leo when it comes to my ‘weird ways’ or so I’ve been told. Plus I trust Seb and those men. They are the safest place for Leo. I only allow it because the connection stabilizes him.
When Leo finishes speaking, applause echoes around the vast lobby and his face lights up into a million stars. The reaction is genuine and warm and he laps it up.
When he searches for me, our eyes meet across the room and his expression softens. He inclines his head a fraction and I tighten my hold around the champagne flute, wanting to storm over to him and grab him, to whisk him away so we can be on our own. I hate sharing him like this.
The crowd surges toward him, questions already forming like weapons, but I remain where I am. Watching. Protecting.
Leo has learned my cues of behavior. He knows when I’m about to combust, when I’m angry, when I can’tgo back to being my real self. And he doesn’t ask me to be different, because he understands the structure of my mind in the same way he understands steel — its stress points, its strengths, the way pressure either destroys or molds its shape.
And he still chose me. Well, that’s what he likes to think, that he ever had a choice.
Leo was built to create, to be center stage and for me to be his protector, the monster that stands behind him. To guard him in every way. Together, we are… stable.
I know later, when the room empties and calmness restores, he will find me. He will ask if he is good enough, if his speech was okay and if I think anyone will commission him. I will tell him the truth, that the world finally sees him and that infinity suits him. It’s in his blood, that he embodies the symbol. And he will believe me, not because I tell him to. But because he has learned the difference between captivity…and being chosen by something that never lets go.
EPILOGUE
One year later
Ethan
