“It’s okay, Henri. You don’t have to lie.”
You closed the box carefully, like there was a bomb inside of it, and set it on the bedside table, which was already littered with bottles of lube and a couple of our favorite toys. Then you beckoned me closer and wrapped your strong arms around me. You whispered loving words into my ear and suddenly, I was so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open.
“Henri,” I protested weakly. “Don’t…” But I was already slipping under. It was impossible not to. I felt so calm and at ease. There was no place warmer or more comforting than inside your arms.
I woke up hours later.It was around noon, judging from the light streaming through the window. You sat with your back to me on the edge of the bed, the reaver on your finger. You curled and pointed the instrument as though testing its flexibility. Maybe your reaction wasn’t about the gift itself, but whether I was crazy to tempt you into using it.
“I thought it might be more convenient than Xavier’s kitchen knife,” I said. And a lot less terrifying.
You twisted to look at me. Guilty. Like when I caught you sucking the blood from Derek’s finger. I’d accepted your cravings as part of who you were. I didn’t understand what you were afraid of, but I had enough hang-ups of my own to know an explanation wasn’t necessary. I sat up and crossed my legs.
“A sleep seduction, Henri?” I asked, unable to hide the hurt in my voice. “I thought we were past that.”
“I needed some time to think,” you said softly.
“I’d rather you tell me you hated it.”
You carefully slipped the reaver off your finger and put it back in its satin box, then replaced the lid and put it in the drawer as if you couldn’t bear to look at it.
“We can throw it in the ocean if you want. Let it sleep with the fishes,” I said in my best Godfather accent.
I was trying to loosen you up, but you only dropped your face into your hands and let out a gut-wrenching moan. I immediately crawled over to you, draped myself across your shoulders, and hugged you tightly to me.
“Henri, please talk to me. I know you’re hiding something, and I just want to know what it is.”
You pulled me into your lap and cradled me to your chest, then kissed me. I stretched toward you so that our kiss could go longer, deeper. More, always and forever. You were using your skills to buy yourself some time, but I wanted to be close to you, however you felt comfortable achieving it.
“Can I make love to you?” you whispered throatily.
“Absolutely,” I said, and it wasn’t long after that we were lying in bed together, and your caresses turned gentle and so, so tender.
“You are the most beautiful, remarkable man I have ever met, and I will cherish you for as long as I live.”
I echoed your sweet sentiment with my own simple words. I thought you were just trying to build me back up after my gift was a bust.
Our lovemaking lasted for hours. Whenever I was close to climax, you’d pull out and massage me or kiss me or stroke my back until my erection ebbed and my body was like butter. There was no part of me that hadn’t been caressed by your hands and mouth, even my toes. My muscles were the consistency of pudding, and my senses were completely strung out on pleasure. The only thing I could coherently say was your name, so I said it, over and over again. Like breathing, your name was a sound my soul made, begging for completion.
“That’s it, my darling,” you purred in my ear. “Call for me.”
“Please, Henri. Enough is enough. Just finish me already.”
If Xavier’s neighbors were home, they probably heard me howling your name. My hands gripped the headboard as you finally brought me home, back to the place where we ended and began. I exploded into a million pieces.
You physicallyshattered me, Henri, and then just a couple hours later, you shattered me emotionally as well.
32
Henri
“Why?” you moaned like an animal. “Why would you do this now?” Your cries were so innocent and plaintive, the pain of abandonment evident in the tenor of your voice.
How could I leave you like this? But how could I stay?
“I’m going to lose control one day,” I told you patiently for the third time. “And I will bleed you to death.”
“You would never do that,” you said vehemently. Tears threatened to spill out of your swollen eyes as you tried to hold them back. Your fists were clenched, your beautiful mouth pulled into a tight grimace. At the moment, your anger overwhelmed any other emotions. You were more furious with me than I’d ever seen you before.
“Not intentionally.”
