“Well, we are husband and wife.” It’s the only answer I can think of at the moment.
He is motionless. “Do you feel the same way about me?”
I take a sip of wine. “Yes. I want my husband so badly I could weep. I miss his soft words and his caress …” I close my eyes. “The way he kisses me as if it’s our last embrace and the feel of him inside me as though we’re inseparable.” I open my eyes. “So yes, I feel the same way.” I pick up my fork and continue eating.
His hand reaches for mine across the table. “Let me make love to you, Beth.”
I’m sniggering. “I would say yes, but I don’t think you’re capable of it. You’ve lived so long, taking and giving nothing in return, I’m not convinced you even know how to make love.” I pat my lips with my napkin. “You rely on your tricks and demand that everything is just so …with little regard for others. A good lover doesn’t do that.”
“Then I will learn how to love. You will teach me.”
I smile at the absurdity of it. “See, there you go. Telling not asking.”
“Have you finished eating?”
I nod my head.
“Give me your hand. I need to diffuse some of this sexual energy before I explode.”
“If that’s your idea of a pick-up line, it’s not very good.”
“Darling, I wouldn’t know a pick-up line if it landed on my plate.”
We walk hand in hand to the lift.
“They rarely land there, anyway.”
“Then that’s just as well.”
Before we enter the lift I pull him back. “You promise there will be no hypnotic music or putting me in a trance …?”
“I do.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Certainly not!”
I’m giggling. “It’s only something we say …”
“In that case I will object on the grounds that I have a vested interest.” He kisses my hair. “Come to bed.”
When we enter the master bedroom, I’m taken aback. There are crimson rose petals on the bed, candles on every surface and an ice bucket by the bed with an unopened bottle of champagne.
“When did you do this?” I ask curiously.
“Five minutes ago. Do you approve?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful.” I lift a handful of petals off the bed and hold them to my nose.
He’s beaming. “If you consider today’s events, this is our wedding night.”
What an unsettling thought.
“Yes.” I turn to face him, taking his beautiful face in my hands, preparing to do as I said I would; to give the performance of my life, to save the life of another. “I love you, Ayden.”
“I love you more, Beth.”
I’m momentarily wounded by his reply; although why should I be? He’s been accessing Ayden’s thoughts all day. This is just one more to add to the long list of daily adjustments I’m having to make.
His nose brushes against mine as I tilt my face up to him like a sacrificial offering. There’s no disguising his arousal; it’s apparent in the deepest, darkest blue of his eyes and in the rigid mass pressing into my hip. We are physically attracted to one another, that’s undeniable; but there’s more. It’s a pull, a yearning to touch and be touched.
I’m aching inside for him; I miss him, my body misses him.
We kiss.
He runs his tongue along my bottom lip, coating it in moisture. Sensing my need, he enters my mouth and I allow our tongues to dance and swirl to a sensual rhythm.
I throw back my head and shiver a little as his kisses tickle my throat and tease the skin beneath my ear. I make that noise I know Ayden loves to hear and suppress a whimper, knowing it will go unheard. But … I dare not allow that thought to linger. I have to find the strength from somewhere to surrender myself and my body or …
He murmurs into my neck, “Tell me what you need. I can give you anything.”
I’m breathless and can’t speak.
“Come on Beth. Be bold, baby …”
I gasp at those three words. There are no secrets between us now. He knows everything, sees everything, hears everything, feels everything.
He’s becoming Ayden.
With that thought, I let go and throw myself at his mercy; I pull his T-shirt over his head so I can feel the warmth of his overheated body against mine. I pull him to me, dizzy with desire, and he spins us around until my back is against the wall. I am pinned with no means of escape but too entangled in a myriad of emotions to care.
When I pull back to catch my breath, I look into those depthless pools and see misty clouds of grey. Detecting a tenderness I haven’t seen before from him; my fear dissipates. The nebulous hues are a reminder of the distance in time and space he has crossed to be here with me - to offer me this chance to love and be loved.
He speaks in a whisper,
And in Life's noisiest hour,
There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy.
You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within;
And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart
Thro' all my Being, thro' my pulse's beat;
You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.
And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,
How oft! I bless the Lot that made me love you.
The Presence of Love
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
“I have travelled all over the universe to find you, Beth. Let me love you.”
In this moment I realise how our lives have been inexplicably linked for decades; Death has found me wandering like a lost child so many times and now, as a woman, it has come to this one defining moment.
I can think of only one word. “Yes.”
With dexterous hands, he leans back and unbuttons my dress; it falls from my arms and flutters to the carpet like falling leaves. I’m standing without shoes; flimsy underwear is all that lies between my modesty and my nakedness.
He lowers my hands from his chest to his hips and then places them on his belt, inviting me to relieve him of his trousers, all the time kissing and nibbling the skin beneath my ear.
I quickly unfasten the belt and release the buttons so the zipper comes down almost of its own accord. With my eyes closed I slide my hand down his jeans, over muscle and through pubic hair until I have him wrapped in one hand. He groans into my neck and the heat of his desire scorches my skin, urging me to tighten my grip and feel the pulse of a rigid cock rippling in my hand. He’s dipping and shuddering, making the kind of noises that have me clenching and so aroused I can barely stand.
With steaming breath he whispers, “Show me how to love you, Beth.”
With my free hand I move his hand to my left shoulder and ease down my bra strap. He follows through, left and right and leans into me to unclip it before it falls and dangles off my right wrist. I begin to pull out my hand.
“Leave it where it is,” he says with a smile and then proceeds to snap the strap and toss it across the room. With it discarded, I am captured in candlelight. This is the first time he has seen my naked breasts. Before, there was only the glow of moonlight. Now there are shadows and the flickering light cast by 20 candles. I feel exposed and lower my head, embarrassed by his stare.
“Look at me!”
I raise my eyes to meet his. “Don’t ever be shy about who you are. You are beauty personified. I have lived many lifetimes, travelled through space and time; read a thousand books and recited a hundred poems, but even I cannot find the words to describe you.” He rests his palms on my breasts and strokes my nipples with the pad of his thumbs, making my body tremble.
“See how you respond? Your body recognises the touch of these hands and no other. These hands are the key to untold pleasures.”
I throw my head back as I feel his erection growing, forcing its
way through material, seeking freedom from containment. With both hands I lower his jeans and boxers, allowing it to spring free. When I see it, I gasp. It’s bigger than I remembered, standing long and thick without support. I’m aroused further by its magnificence.
“Give me your hand.”
I lift up my right hand. Enfolding it with his own, he places it around the skin coated rod of iron and begins to move my fingers and thumb up and down the length of it; rolling my thumb back and forth on the upward motion.
With a throaty voice he urges me to give him my other hand. I do.
He places it between my legs, his hand over mine, his firm fingers sliding between my own until they are wet and soaked. With our hands moving rhythmically he begins to fuck my mouth with his tongue. He moans into me, stimulating me even more, and I gasp, caught up in a sexual frenzy that has us both teetering on the edge of an orgasmic high.
Like a woman possessed, I throw my head back and give in to the blistering heat of an orgasm that sears through my stomach muscles; it comes to rest in my groin with the force of an earth-shattering explosion.
I call out, ”Ay-den” and struggle to remain standing, realising I still have him in my grasp. Without thinking, I fall to my knees and use both hands to pleasure him. When I look up, he’s towering above me: an Adonis carved out of gleaming bronze, the perfect male specimen. I watch as the muscles on his chest rise and fall and his taut abdomen quivers under my instruction. His compliance gives me the confidence I need to do what I long to do; to take him in my mouth and rejoice in his gratification.
Even before I begin, he places his hands around his back and I know he’s gripping his own wrists. Realising he has tapped into Ayden’s thoughts causes me to wince, but only for a second. As I look at his stirring erection I’m reminded that this is my husband’s body; I have known no other. With that singular thought I press on licking, tasting, sucking until my eyes begin to water and I can do it no longer. I fall back against the wall breathless and exhausted, marvelling at his stamina.
Ayden lifts me from the floor and sweeps me up in his arms. As he places me down on the bed, I feel strong hands removing my panties. We lie together naked, bathed in candlelight on a bed of rose petals, and it feels perfectly natural. He reaches over and takes my face in his left palm.
“Thank you.” His lips graze my forehead.
“For what?”
He traces the outline of my swollen lips with his thumb. “For trusting me.”
“You promised not to hurt me,” I remind him.
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t imagine it, did I?
He smiles wickedly. “Then I must handle you with care, darling,”
“Please do.” I look around at the candles and the shapes they are casting on the walls as they glow and deliver their flickering light. In a single movement he waves his right hand and a breeze extinguishes almost all of the candles. Only the two on either side of the bed remain. A smirk forms and I smile in response but say nothing.
In a move worthy of an escape artist I break free of his grip and scramble under the duvet.
“Are you hiding?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No I’m cold.”
He draws back the duvet to join me and the rose petals fly high above the bed, then flutter down like a scattering of red confetti at a fairy-tale wedding.
“Come here. Let me keep you warm.”
I snuggle into his chest. “Don’t you want to start over? You didn’t come.”
He kisses my hair. “There’s time enough for that … not unless you want me to.”
I raise my head, resting my chin on his chest, nestling in chest hair. “I don’t want you to be in a permanent state of arousal.” I can’t help but giggle.
“I’m beginning to think that the most lovable part about you, darling, apart from your beauty, your intellect and your compassion - is your sense of humour.” He kisses my nose. “You are truly adorable, Beth, and I will cherish the time we have together as a precious gift.”
“You can be very sweet when you’re not listening in to my thoughts, clicking your fingers or wafting your hands about.” His chest is rumbling beneath my left ear.
“I do not waft. I command. There’s a difference.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“That would be wise.”
I draw circles on his chest. “Tell me, did you turn off the rain today, or was it purely coincidental that the sun came out when it did?”
“There’s no such thing as coincidence, Beth. Fate can be a cruel master or a gentle lover. I learned that long ago.” He rests his hand on my hair.
“But how can that be when you do what you do? You change things.”
“I can play with heating or engage with the elements - even suspend time - but destiny is too strong a force to control, even for me.”
“So is that how you know where to be when you need to do your job?”
“Something like that; but time isn’t a fixed thing for me. I can be gone a second and traverse a continent or witness a war and be back here in time to wake you. It’s all relative.”
Taken with his honesty, I crawl across him until we are eye to eye. “So what are you like when you’re not Ayden?”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
“Very well.” He thinks through his answer. “I am light.”
“You’re what?”
“I am a life force. I have no form as such.”
“Shit!”
“Beth! Please.”
“I’m sorry but that’s not the answer I was expecting.” I roll onto my back and gaze at the shapes on the ceiling. “So the only way you can interact is to take a human form like you have now?
“Yes.” He rolls onto his side to explain. “This doesn’t change anything, Beth. I feel everything Ayden feels and love with the same intensity …”
“ … But you’re not Ayden,” I announce a little too quickly.
“This is true.”
“Don’t say that. I know you’re trying really hard to become him, for me, but it will take time for me to comprehend what’s happened.”
“Should I turn back time to the moment when you described the rose petals as red confetti at a fairy-tale wedding?”
I’m shaking my head. “No, I want to remember. You said you wouldn’t lie to me. What would be the point of saying that if you just pretend we never had this conversation?”
“Because it would take us back to a time when you were more receptive to my advances, and less afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
Not much anyway …
He hits me with a piercing stare. “Not much is too much, Beth.”
His left cheek falls like a lead weight into the palm of my hand. “You called this an adventure and you weren’t wrong. In a dictionary somewhere there will be a definition that reads: ‘an unusual or exciting experience that involves taking risks.’ That just about covers it. I’m risking everything for love. And, as long as we can both live with that’ I think it will be an epic adventure, don’t you?”
“I do indeed.” He places a soft kiss on my lips. “Get some rest, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“We do?”
“Yes. We begin our honeymoon.”
I turn over on my side and he wraps his body around mine until we are spooning. I feel the partial hardness of a fading erection against me. For some reason the thought of him enduring another night without release has me smiling into my pillow. As hard as I try to scatter my thoughts, they betray me, once again.
He whispers into my hair. “Try not to concern yourself with my gratification. I’m happy to defer until the morning.”
I send him a message.
Stop listening in.
Stop sending out. Go to sleep.
“Goodnight, Ayden.”
“Goodnight, Beth.”
Pulled in the di
rection of the lounge by an intangible force, I don my bathrobe and tiptoe out of the bedroom. As I leave the room, I hear his even breathing and glance backwards, still in a state of disbelief.
My laptop boots up and I type in the password. Quickly I retrieve the digital scrapbook and consider my entry. Wanting to keep this record strictly private, I use the earphones from my iPod and shuffle through my selection of songs. I listen to Biffy Clyro singing Many of Horror. Unconsciously, I’ve managed to capture my thoughts in a song but dare not commit them to print. Instead I type:
NOVEMBER #2
“One half of me is yours, the other half yours,
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours.”
William Shakespeare: The Merchant of Venice.
What a day! We made our first public appearance as man and wife only to find we were never actually married. Ha! All that planning of yours and our day was scuppered by MI5. Thankfully Stephen saved the day. (Consider the irony in that) We’ve signed the documents and we are married: it’s official. It’s only been 14 hours but already I feel different. Here’s the photograph; I had Charlotte take it. You look as handsome as ever and me … well, I was still trying to cool down after experiencing what could only be described as a heat wave in your Boardroom. Don’t ask …
Coming home today I realised just how far we’ve some in such a short time; but we have a lifetime of memories to share, Ayden, and this is only the beginning. Tonight, when we made love, it felt like we had truly found each other; two worlds colliding and not a single tear shed.
I love you, Ayden, with all that I am and all I will ever be. I belong to you … I love will you from this moment on, as I always have, for as long as we both shall live.
Yours, Beth X
I insert the photo from my SD card and paste a newspaper article about our arrival at the Stone Building. There we are hand in hand, Ayden a good six inches above me, oozing confidence and potent masculinity. He looks every bit the media mogul: not a trace of trickery, not a hair out of place.
I save the document and shut down; lock away my heart and put my camera back into my bag ready for the next photo opportunity. A faraway place awaits our arrival and I prepare myself mentally for the next chapter of this incredible ‘adventure.’
TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy) Page 15