TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy)

by Sydney Jamesson

  All I can do is lie back, fold my arms and look out across the sea. And then they appear. I gasp, full of wonder. “What’s that?” I grab his arm and shake him awake. “Look, there are lights in the sky. More and more of them. What are they? Ayden, look!”

  He feigns boredom. “What did you see?”

  “If you open your eyes you’ll be able to tell me. Take a look.” With each new second the sky is coming alive. Miniature explosions are flooding the clouds with light. Shooting stars are falling from the sky; some kind of red-tailed comet is speeding across the horizon. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the show. Oh my God, Ayden! It’s spectacular.” I grab his hand and hold it to my breast, encasing it in my hot palms. “It’s truly magical; nature’s firework display just for us. How amazing is this?”

  “This is just a small glimpse of the universe, Beth. There’s a whole galaxy of stars and planets out there.”

  I turn to him, my eyes awash with glossy tears. I’m overwhelmed by the night’s events. For as long as I live, I will never forget this night. I flop back onto the bed, spent of all emotion. “All that’s happened tonight has been like a dream, Ayden. I don’t know what to say other than … thank you.”

  “We had a lot of fun. It was my pleasure to watch you; how moved you were by the opera, how you were tipsy over dinner, your joy with the rose petals and your childlike excitement as you witnessed the meteor shower.” He turns on his side to face me until our noses are touching, cradling my face in his hand. “What a delight you are, Beth.”

  “You made it so special, Ayden. I just happened to be here,” I confess.

  He will have none of it. “That’s simply not true. All this magic pales into insignificance compared to you.” He rubs across my bottom lip with a gentle thumb. “I am seen as a blinding light by some, yet you are the light people are drawn to; you have an aura of goodness around you, Beth. You wear it like a mantle. You always have.”

  “Only you can see it,” I say, smiling. “But thank you for saying so.”

  He runs his hand across my shoulders and down my right arm, coming to rest on my newly-ringed finger. “This is one of many gifts I can give you …”

  I interrupt before he can finish, “I don’t want any more gifts…”

  “I know, but you do want a child, don’t you?” He sweetens his question with a kiss.

  A child?

  “I do, but …”

  He kisses me again. “Hush. There will be no buts tonight, my darling. I have spent too many millennia taking care of the dead. Is it too much to ask to be given this one opportunity to procreate?”

  His choice of words makes me giggle. “Is that another one of your pick-up lines?” The humour glistening in his eyes has me laughing into his chest.

  “I do so love to hear your laughter, darling Beth. I will miss it dearly.”

  He moves down the bed, holding out his hands to help me disembark as if leaving a shipwreck. As he prepares to speak he looks into my eyes into my very soul. “Let me make love to you. We have spoken of worlds colliding. Now the time has come for me to show you what can happen when the forces of heaven and earth come together.”

  Wrapped up in one another, we walk barefoot back to the villa.

  “You just love talking dirty, don’t you?” I tease.

  “Is that a serious question?” he asks, burying his nose in my hair.

  “No.”

  His grip tightens around me. “I thought not.”

  23

  Inside the villa, there’s an air of silent expectation. The sound of the sea is behind us; the gentle lapping of waves against the shore is barely audible. I break the silence with some music. In the bedroom I scroll through the iPod deck until I find something fitting to the occasion. Lana Del Ray speaks of a Burning Desire. The rhythm of the music is complemented by the humming sound coming from the ceiling fan as it disperses the heat and creates a welcome draft that catches wisps of my hair, giving me the dishevelled look of someone who lost her innocence on that short stroll from the beach.

  Into the bedroom steps the man of my dreams. In the candlelight, I see his shirt is unbuttoned and his tie discarded. As he stands across from me on the other side of the bed I feel my body responding to his overpowering presence. My chest heaves. I feel edgy and impatient, aching for my husband’s touch. He might well be Ayden for the way he carries himself in and out of the bedroom. He has everyone fooled; even me at times. He fills the space with his aura and his authority transcends the ordinary. No man has looked more determined in purpose. He means to have me, his way, or not at all.

  I shudder at the prospect of being taken and yet, the gratification that comes from being so prized excites me more. I draw my tongue across my lower lip in anticipation. “How do you want me?” I ask, removing my earrings and placing them onto the bedside table.

  His mouth twitches on the right. “How? Willing,” he replies, causing me to glance away for fear my pupils will belie my indifference.

  “I couldn’t want you more, even if we’d been apart a month or a year. Come here. I have a wedding present to unwrap.” As I walk around the bed he’s unbuttoning his cuffs and beginning to undo his shirt.

  I take hold of his hands to still them. “Let me.” Still keeping eye contact I undo every button, fold back his shirt and claim what is mine; flexing pectorals covered in a downy layer of hair just begging to be stroked. I lay my palms flat, allowing his masculine essence to seep through to my fingertips like an electric current, urged on by my heavy breathing and a stifled moan. But there is no time for that. Before any power is bestowed up me I am turned about.

  “You are a vision in this dress, Beth,” he murmurs, close to my ear. “But some visions are real and others are figments of the imagination. Which are you?” He takes hold of my zip and lowers it, slowly until it reaches my lower back. He slips his right hand into the open dress and slides it around my abdomen, pulling me into him tightly into him until l I feel the fullness of his erection against my derrière.

  He slips his other hand inside and cups my breasts, causing me to whimper as I’m held fast, imagining all kinds of sensual scenarios.

  He whispers into my right ear, “Are you ready for me?”

  “Yes,” I answer nervously.

  He licks my earlobe and nips at it before continuing his interrogation. “Are you sure? Because for what I have in mind, you must be very, very wet.”

  Fuck!

  I rotate my neck backward and sideways into him. “Yes. I’m ready for you, Ayden.” Just saying his name causes my abdomen muscles to tighten. This is the man I know and love. This magnetism we have is undeniably sexual but it begins with words; words that tempt, tease and prepare me for sex. I have missed these words.

  With me still facing away from him, he removes the dress from my body as if freeing a sweet from a wrapper. “Step,” he orders. “Again.” With feather-light fingertips he strokes my calves and thighs; climbs to my waist and position me against his hard torso. “Tell me, Beth. Do you want to play?”

  Just the thought of it causes my back to straighten and every hair to stand on end. An instinctive “Yes,” leaves my lips.

  “Me too. Turn around.”

  I rotate on the spot and find his eyes with mine, augmenting our connection. “What do you want to play?”

  “Mmm … so many games to choose from but only one comes to mind.” He reaches behind him and opens the bedside drawer. “You brought these, so I assume they come highly recommended.”

  My eyes widen as I see the length of cord, the blindfold and … the G spot massager.

  He passes them from hand to hand. “I think we can dispense with this.” He throws the rope to one side. “But these I like.”

  Is he reading my mind?

  The thought of the massager causes me to bite my lip; it’s been a while since Ayden used it on me and, as I recall, it was one of the most stimulating experiences of my life.

  He places the massager on the pillow
and refocuses his attention on me. “Tonight I’m going to take you to a place you’ve never been; to heaven and back. Are you ready?”

  I nod. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  He kisses me softly, tempts me with a moist tongue and pulls away. With my eyes closed I feel the blindfold sliding over my hair and resting over my eyes. He takes hold of my hands as if we’re going on a long journey. “Now close your eyes and trust me.”

  “I do.”

  His grip tightens on my fingers. “Take my hands, these are yours to use. Show me.”

  Feeling a little hesitant I grapple with his fingers and lift his hands until he has my face enveloped in his warm embrace. Needing no further encouragement, his lips find mine. Held in place I respond, focusing on the moistness of his kiss and the sounds emanating from his throat. His hands move into my hair, removing the clip, scooping it up in handfuls as his kiss deepens. My head begins to spin as he begins his masterful possession of my body one inch at a time.

  My bra is removed. He takes each hardening nipple in his mouth and sucks hard, lengthening it, forcing me to gasp and sway.

  “You’re perfect, Beth. To taste you isn’t enough. I have to have you. Lie down.”

  I’m falling backwards onto the bed; his hands take hold of mine to break my fall and I lie in breathless anticipation. To my right I hear the hum of the massager and take hold of the sheets, gathering them up in my fists, knowing what’s coming. The bed sinks on my right and I sense he’s facing me, examining my body, memorising every curve. The vibrator tickles my collar bone, making me wriggle and smile.

  “Is this pleasurable?” he asks.

  “It tickles.”

  “Tickles? Oh I think we can do better than that,” he says, lowering his vibrating hand to my breasts. “Still tickles?”

  I’m not smiling now. “Not so much.”

  “And now?” He rests the massager on my panties and proceeds to move it up and down in slow sweeps.

  The teasing movement make we writhe and cause my hands to twist the bedding in response. “It doesn’t tickle …”

  “No?”

  “It makes me want to come,” I moan and raise myself to increase the pressure.

  “Then you shall.”

  He moves from the bed and pulls off my panties in one long tug that ends with them flying off my toes as if jet-propelled. Feeling exposed, I pull my knees together; I’m aroused but still bashful. I turn my head away. Throughout our adventure I have played every game but this one is a stretch too far. I see vanilla sheets, I hear my husband’s words, “I’m going to use this on you … this will be intense and I want you to try to absorb the feeling to make it last.” How can I make it last when he’s not here …

  “Beth,” Ayden whispers. “I can’t love you if you hide from me.” He kneels up and pushes back my blindfold. He sighs. “We have been intimate before. I have known you and yet you still don’t trust me?”

  I see the disappointment in his eyes and it saddens me. “I trust you, Ayden. I want you.” Without hesitation I reach over to him, releasing his belt and undoing the clasp on his trousers, knowing the extent of his arousal even before I lower the zip. With careful handling I release an impressive erection from the confines of his boxers and take it in my left hand. He leans backwards, using his hands to support himself and thrusts his hips forward. Impulsively, I arch my body around him and take him in my mouth.

  Taken by surprise he throws back his head and growls with primeval satisfaction. I feel his body heat rising; his cock is pulsating and swelling in response as I pull him deeper and suck harder. He’s losing all self-control.

  “Fuck, Beth!” he calls out. “This body is yours. Take it!”

  His words are so achingly familiar that salt water fills my eyes and flows like guilty tears onto the sheets. I press on until he begins to tremble, taking him to the back of my throat, coaxed by his words.

  “Yes! Right there. Suck me hard, baby.”

  Only when his hands take hold of my hair do I ease off, slightly.

  “Stop! You’re making me come …”

  But I will not be deterred. I move into a more comfortable position, taking hold of his thighs and attacking him with greater confidence and determination.

  “Beth!” he calls out, realising my intention. “Beth!” Without warning, he shoves me off him and clambers over my body. With trembling knees he forces my legs open and thrusts into me in one forceful movement.

  His urgency catches me unaware, making me scream with sweet agony and with the urgency of his penetration. I take hold of his shoulders, pushing him off and then pulling him back to me a second later, rocking to the rhythm of his forward and backward movements.

  Realising his selfishness, he eases off and finds my ear. “I’m sorry if I caused you pain.” His breath coats my throat in hot gusts while his kisses remind me of the bond we have established. I pushed him too far.

  “You didn’t hurt me,” I whisper. “I was ready for you.”

  He leans up on his elbows and gazes adoringly into my eyes. “Is that true? Are you ready, for me?” He continues to glide in and out with the precision of a human metronome, each thrust deeper than the last, each languid lunge driving home a single message: you belong to me.

  “I’ve been waiting for you all my life,” I state, pulling his mouth to mine to swallow up my confession.

  “And I for you Frances, Elizabeth Parker. I’m here, darling, and I can give you everything.”

  I hear the words but I can’t process them; his power possesses my body, my mind and my soul … I have no-place to hide.

  He fixes me with a piercing stare. “Look into my eyes Beth. See what I see: the power of heaven and earth and creation. Come with me.”

  I can’t look away. I feel my knees buckling, my legs folding to allow him to thrust more deeply. I feel his physical presence over me, his raw, covetous hunger consuming me.

  Conquered and claimed I stare into oblivion and, amid those saintly orbs of the darkest sapphire I see a thousand stars so bright and so bewitching I can’t look away. The gravitational pull of the universe lures me in. I begin to feel lightheaded and drawn to the light. My body hums with orgasmic sensations, and Ayden’s guttural roars of passion resonate, creating a crescendo of ecstatic fervour unparalleled in the known universe.

  As he nears the abyss I draw him deeper rejoicing in his omnipotence, letting go. All I can do is call out his name over and over, “Ayden, Ayden…”

  As if responding to my coaxing, he comes inside me with a ferocious out-pouring of liquid fire. He yells, “Fuck!” His face contorts, my mouth opens and we combust as our worlds collide, exploding into a million stars.

  As our bodies spasm and shiver I close my eyes and silently weep, hearing three words as they escape his throat in a strangled cry, “Choose me, Beth.”

  I feel my jaw moving but I have no words to convey my thoughts. What can I say?

  Regaining my sanity I look around the room. The candles are out, the covers on the bed have been tossed aside, furniture has been overturned. The room looks as if a powerful force of nature had just appeared and left.

  That’s a fair assessment of what just happened here.

  I’ve left Ayden sleeping, peacefully. Feeling both physically and emotionally exhausted. I’m seated out on the deck with a glass of orange juice on one side and my camera, phone and laptop on the other. I dread opening it. I know what awaits me on my desktop; two people in love who believed they had their lives ahead of them. What is to become of them now?

  I brace myself and boot up, avoiding Ayden’s eyes and directing my thoughts to my digital scrapbook. So much has happened I scarcely know where to begin, but I have to put it down so there will be no gaps in Ayden’s memory and our honeymoon will not become my solitary recollection. I’m listening to Jason Mraz who reminds me that I won't give up. Using the lyrics I channel my thoughts.

  November #9

  “Eternity was in our lips and eyes,

/>   Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor

  But was a race of heaven.”

  Shakespeare: Antony and Cleopatra.

  If I live to see one hundred Ayden, I will never forget the time we’ve spent here. You have seen to it that our honeymoon has been the best of times and never let it be said that you don’t know how to show a lady a good time (Laughing)

  Today we posed for Josh and you flew us to Sydney for a spectacular production of Madame Butterfly. I cried, as you knew I would; and we left the Opera House in silent reverie. It was a beautiful occasion. Thank you.

  The restaurant overlooking the harbour was the perfect setting for dinner. We shared desserts and laughed until all the wine was gone and I …

  I want to write, until it was time to take some photos and leave, but as I’m so overcome with emotion, it’s impossible to fabricate happiness after what’s happened. I take a couple of gulps of chilled orange juice to settle myself enough to tell one of the most shameful lies I have ever been guilty of.

  Forgive me, Ayden. I have lost my way but I will always find my way back to you …

  The photos we had taken will go straight into the album, as will the programme and a stack of other mementos I have collected.

  When we arrived back on our island paradise you had arranged for a bed to be set up on the beach. We laid back and counted stars. The sky was the colour of your come-to-bed eyes and … that’s exactly what I did. (Blushing)

  The night ended perfectly with soft music and the sound of our orgasmic cries; and no one could ask for more. You held me in your arms until our hearts slowed and I fell asleep, blissfully happy.

  I wipe away a tear with my cuff.

  Never has any woman felt more loved and grateful for so much. You are my life, Ayden. I may travel the world or look to the heavens once in a while, but you’ll be the only man I’ll ever love. My heart and my soul belongs to you, baby.