Lies in Blood Page 25


“But we have tonight,” he said, waking me from my thought with a firm hand cupping my cheek. “My love, don’t go there. Just be here, in this moment, with me.”


“Okay.”


“Okay.”


David’s hands went under my bottom, prompting me to jump up and wrap my legs around his hips. He carried me slowly to the bed, falling down on top of me; the sheets and pillows rising up like clouds around us. I felt the softness of them under my bare skin, each tiny inch tingling as if this was the first touch. And David’s mouth found mine again, the sweet kisses growing with the desire heating his blood, his hand folding around my breast, smoothing a path for his lips to follow.


“There are so many things we’ve never done,” he said under the kiss. “So many I planned to do right now, but—” He leaned back and smiled down at me. “Tonight, I think I just wanna love you.”


Those words rushed into my heart, taking the thoughts and desires he showed me earlier, and tossing them aside. All I wanted now was to feel his bare chest pressed to mine, his hands on my hips, our bodies connected closer than humanly, or immortally possible.


“Okay.” I guided him gently backward and rolled onto my knees, sweeping his shirt up his waist. “Then we need you naked.”


“You read my mind.” He tossed his shirt aside and brought his arms back down to his sides—his ribs expanding, showing the skeleton beneath.


“You’re so thin now, David.” I cupped his ribs with both hands and kissed the hollow between his breastbones.


“That happens when you’re stressed about leaving the love of your life.”


I stopped kissing and just rested my brow against his soft belly for a moment, feeling my hair sweep off my face under David’s fingertips.


“Don’t be sad, my love. Remember? Tonight isn’t about the future.”


“It’s pretty hard to ignore.”


“I don’t know.” I heard a smile shape his words. “I think I can take your mind off it.”


I laughed breathily and, with tears wetting my lips, began my important task of kissing every inch of his skin from his ribs to his jeans again. As I reached his belly button, he drew his stomach in, trying not laugh. “Does that tickle?” I asked.


“Yes, but don’t stop.” He smoothed both thumbs down my head, resting his fingertips gently to the base of my skull, and I felt him grow harder near my throat—pushing against the zipper of his jeans.


I could smell him, almost taste him—the sweet chocolate mixed with the familiar but very slight scent of the day’s sweat. He’d never let me get this close before, never opened himself up this way. It was as if there were no walls between us now; we were finally free to explore all those things we’d been afraid to share. He’d even stopped waxing all his hair off, his chest now sprouting a few hairs around his nipples—my tongue noticing the fine trail from his navel downward.


I pinched the top of his zipper then and slid it down, rolling the waist of his jeans and briefs past his hips, seeing the head of his penis grow as my fingertips brushed past it. And my blood boiled with a naughty idea.


“I can see what you’re thinking, my love.” He stopped me.


“I want to know what it feels like,” I said, half suggesting, half asking.


“Ara, you know how I feel about that.”


“I know.” I looked at the patch of dark hair below his V of muscles. “But I just want to try it, just once.”


The thoughts in his mind flickered like a broken light for a second, finally deciding that it was better if I satisfied my curiosity with him than with another man after he was gone. “Okay.” He exhaled, and tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding my mouth toward him.


I had no idea what to actually do, and wasn’t really sure what to expect, either, but as I delicately wrapped my fingers around him, following his length to the base, I was no longer afraid I’d do it wrong. None of it mattered. There was no self-consciousness here. Not between us. We were in love. We were married, and if I wasn’t perfect, it just didn’t matter anymore. I knew he’d love me anyway.


I wet my lips and guided him closer, closing my mouth around him as he let out a quiet gasp.


His hands shook against my head, his thighs clenching to hold himself up on the squishy bed, and my naked skin tightened with bumps, cooled by the air from his nose, the draught deeper, stronger each time my tongue made circles.


“That. Feels—” He drew tight breaths through his teeth. “Amazing.”


My shoulders relaxed a little then, and as I moved my grip down the length of him, I felt him grow harder—the salty liquid thickening slightly under my tongue.


“Aw, Ara.” His hips pressed closer to my face, his hand cupping the back of my head as he went deeper into my mouth, stopping where my tongue blocked my throat. “I’m not sure I can take anymore,” he said, and slowly eased himself from my mouth, leaning down to kiss me softly after. “That felt way too good.”


“Really?” I straightened my spine to meet him face to face, and leaned back a bit, sliding my tongue across the moisture left behind.


He nodded, gently moving me backward on the bed. And I saw the thoughts in his mind then—saw him imagine sweeping me down onto my back and sliding my underwear off, tossing them across the room—both of us laughing as he pictured them landing on the lampshade. “Lay back so I can taste you,” he ordered sweetly.


I tucked my thumbs into my undies and slid them off as I landed on my back, parting my legs for him.


But his eyes moved to my belly instead, his hands flowing swiftly to land under his gaze, stopping there for a second. “I’m going to do this right for once, Ara, and we’re gonna have a baby.”


“I feel that, too,” I said. “I think this time it’ll happen.”


He leaned down and kissed my stomach, pressing his lips firmly into the skin just above my pubic bone. I held onto him, winding my fingertips through his hair.


“God, your scent is so familiar,” he said in that deep, David-y tone, moving his lips down a few inches, stealing my breath as his tongue parted the hairs in one long sweep upward. “And you taste so lovely I could kiss you here for hours.”


My whole body shivered, my legs spreading wider than I knew they could. I felt his finger slide in and brush a part that sent the shiver deeper, expanding the muscles inside me. I could smell it—the scent of sex and desire, like a cloud of heat in the dying summer air around us. And as I drew a breath, committing it to memory, felt it suddenly on my lips, tasted it on my tongue under David’s mouth against mine. It didn’t really have much of a taste, or maybe I just didn’t notice it, but it left my mind as soon as it entered, because David gently guided himself inside me, filling my body with the hardness that had been in my mouth only minutes ago.


I wrapped my legs around his hips, digging my fingertips into the skin on his back, bunching it up tightly—my own little handful of David. For once, I owned this moment—owned the love, the energy, the truth finally between us. All the lies, all the secrets had come undone, and all that was left was his love for me, and mine for him. I didn’t need to guard my thoughts. I didn’t feel angry or resentful to him for keeping things from me. I felt closer to him than I ever had before, and I, finally, closed my eyes and prayed to the gods to bless us—bless this moment with a little baby girl.


The past was coming undone with each breath he took, each movement against me. None of it mattered anymore. Everything we’d done to hurt each other was no longer important, because all that mattered right now, in this moment, was life.


I came back down to earth, and David smiled his secret smile, seeing me suddenly faze back in.


“Where do you go?” he asked.


“You couldn’t see?”


He wrapped his hands under my bottom and guided my hips closer to his, driving himself gently and slowly inside me, as if he didn’t ever want this to end. “I can never see your thoughts when you do that—when you faze out. It’s like you’re not even in there.”


“Maybe another out of body experience?” I suggested, making a little squeak at the end as he hit a very sensitive spot.


He laughed, his lovely teeth showing, taking me back to our first date at Betty’s for a second. “I think this is really more of an out-of-this-world experience.”


I wrapped my legs tighter around him where they’d slipped with the sweat. I didn’t care how hot and sticky we were, though. It was his sweat and my sweat, and I just wanted him, all of him, to be all over me.


“I think we’re gonna need a change of sheets,” he noted, looking at the bed under me.


“I dunno—” I twisted my shoulder to the right and pressed my hand to his rib, shoving him down on the bed—flipping myself around so I came to rest with my legs either side of his hips. I felt him go deeper inside me in this position, saw the shock in his eyes as he studied my naked body on top of his. “I think I like the idea of sleeping in a puddle of our own love.”


“And I think I like you on top.” He reached for my breast, and I grabbed his wrist, guiding it gently above his head, sliding both my hands up his and linking our fingers. The world moved with the rhythm I decided—a slow beat, each swing of my hips, each time I took him deeper inside me, like the roll of a wave on the shore, lap by lap, and I owned him. He lifted his hips to meet mine in the middle, closing his eyes as he set his pace to mine, enjoying me, enjoying my body.


But he couldn’t just lay back and let me have full control. I knew that. I could feel the burn to govern this rising up in his hands like electricity. He broke free of my grip and cupped my waist, moving me to his own pace, much faster and a little harder than before.


“What?” I said, noticing something odd in his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?”


The sharp smile made his eyes small, his head moving side to side for a second. “You’re pretty darn hot when you’re being seductive, Ara.”


“Is that so?” I leaned forward and placed both hands on his chest, pushing down slightly so my hips rose off his—the warmth there going cool.


“Yes, but—” He flipped me through the air and landed on top of me, wrapping both my legs tightly around his hips. “I much prefer creative control.”


“Creative control?” I said, a brow arching.


He smiled down at my nakedness, shrugging one shoulder after. “Or maybe just control.”


A rush of excitement filled my gut. I kinda liked that, too. “As long as you don’t start tying me up.”


His eyes narrowed into cheeky slits. “If I did, you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”


“Yes, I would,” I said playfully, learning something new about myself then: I wasn’t sure I’d want to stop him. “I could just say no.”