After so long, I’m not surehowlong—time has become something that no longer matters in this moment of realization—when I see that Elijah is completely spent, I allow myself to come.
I push myself as deep inside of him as I can and unload into the condom, feeling my tears fall onto his face. I’m watching him, and he’s watching me, and we’re both still sobbing. Like children. Like two halves of one soul coming together.
Like two lost lovers finally finding each other in the next life.
“Little angel,” I pray as I kiss his cheek, pulling him even tighter against me. “Stay with me.”
Chapter Nine
Elijah
His mouth tasted so sweet; his skin smelled of chrysanthemums. Those are the first things I noticed as he touched me last night.
I didn’t intend on following him home.
When I invited him out for a drink, I had ulterior motives: to get my interview questions answered and to satisfy my curiosity. I hadn’t intended on becoming familiar with the feeling of his hands tugging at the curls of my hair or his heart beating so quickly against my own.
I don’t understand it. Sure—I understand how I got there. How I made it from the bar to his house outside of town. I can wrap my head around how I ended up on the receiving end of his fancy camera and how my tongue managed to find its way into his mouth.
Rowan is quite handsome, after all. It is no secret that I wanted to see him naked. To test drive his body at least once.
What Idon’tunderstand are the things that accompanied our moment in the dark. There were so many things inside of lastnight, in that never-ending desire, that made no sense to me yet felt routine all the same.
And I fell into each moment so seamlessly. I was swallowed up, and so carelessly did I give myself over to him.
As if we’d been there before, as if he’d always known how to touch me. And my body… God, it was as if my body knew his. Lighting up at his touch, shivering at the feel of his breath, anticipating and begging for anything,anythingelse he’d give me.
More, more, more.
I responded to him in the way you respond to a lover you’d trust your soul with.
And it was terrifying and beautiful and so fucking confusing. Rowan took one night and turned it into an entire lifetime of loving each other.
He put his tongue in my mouth and stripped me naked; his hands conquered every inch of me. Just when I thought I’d had the upper hand, he pulled me apart piece by piece. As I laid sprawled out on his bed that smelled so flowery and sweet, he devoured me.
And when those intense, calculating green eyes locked onto mine, they seemed to tell me, “Yes, baby, we’ve been here before. Welcome home. I’ve missed you so much.”
Rowan’s body moved so perfectly in sync with mine; he tasted like home. Even now, like an addict, I want to taste him again. I want to feel his skin against my own.
And as he sank into me fully, connected us to our very cores, those demanding, dominating eyes began to cry.
“Do you remember me now?”he appeared to be saying with each snap of his hips.
Drip by drip, his tears fell onto me, falling into my mouth and mixing in with my own as they slid down my cheeks. He seemed overwhelmed, maybe even a bit mournful. His hands held me as if they’d been patiently waiting to do just that for so many years—centuries even.
His voice was so soft, so scared and possibly even confused when he leaned down and, right against my mouth, as he thrust into me as if he were trying to memorize each sensation as he went, said:
“I… Let me worship you. Even if it’s just for tonight.”
He sounded so broken, so desperate for it. There was no part of me, especially with his sensual, slow thrusts building a heat inside of me, that wanted to deny him.
And Rowan did. He kissed and licked and touched; he insisted on becoming familiar with all parts of my body.
With every moment he fell apart, I fell alongside him. As if my body, and whatever lingers inside of it, had been anticipating not only this moment—but him: Rowan and his gaze that told me exactly what he thought of me; that he thinks I am worth much more than I am.
And he became greedy from behind this notion. I came over and over again—so much pleasure at his hands as he stared down at me with so much longing, so much fear and uncertainty to match.
And after so many hours, or maybe not many—time became a warped thing in our never-ending desire, this endless night—he finally let himself come. So deep inside of me, he wasso deepinside of me. I can feel him even now, so many hours later—I can feel him even now.
