Color-Blind

by Daya Daniels

  “Nothing.” I whispered, easing her back on to the white sheets, taking each one of her pink nipples into my mouth. I suckled each one, tasting her flesh, honeyed and warm.

  I dropped to my knees and parted her legs, taking in the sight of the delicious view in front of me of her bare pussy that was waxed completely bald. I was a starved man, which I hated to admit but I couldn’t stop fucking this woman.

  Pulling out my cock, I stroked it a few times and dipped down to run the tip of my nose along her seam that was already dripping with wetness. She shivered at the contact and raked her fingers through my hair, while I struggled to bite back a moan.

  I ran my hands along her thighs, pressing my cheek into her warm skin, suffocating in the scent of her. A hissed slipped between her clenched teeth, when my hot mouth met her pussy, licking and lapping at her flesh, consuming her. I sucked her clit into my mouth in long, firm strokes, until her thighs were quivering, the tell-tale tremors of an impending orgasm and my face was soaked in her juices.

  Her sweet sounds filled the air and filtered through me sending a vicious sensation from my balls straight up to my swollen cock.

  “Elijah.” She murmured, just when her thighs began to shake uncontrollably and her fingers dug into my shoulders. Her face twisted and contorted in pleasure, while breathless gasps left her mouth right before she came, screaming my name and making low keening sounds into the quiet air.

  I shot up from the floor, nearly ripping my T-shirt off and shoving my pants down. Everything went, including my socks. She rested in the center of the bed, looking gloriously sated in the post-orgasmic state that I’d intended to keep her in for the rest of the day. Sliding my hands beneath her, I pulled her along with me to the center of the bed and then beneath the comforter. I settled in between her thighs, easing down on my elbows, careful to keep my full weight off her. Her body instantly relaxed as she settled beneath me.

  “I wish you could see how pretty you are.” I told her, pressing the tip of my nose to hers, placing a kiss there.

  “I only have to believe you. I don’t care about who else thinks I’m beautiful, Elijah. As long as you do.” She said. “I’m only beautiful because you think I am. At least I think so.”

  Her words hit me like a ton of bricks and I’m speechless, staring down into her eyes. She ran her hand over the side of my cheek gingerly. I shut my eyes at the sensation of her fingertips as they glided over the corded skin there. She knew.

  But she hasn’t said anything.

  Tears pricked my eyes, dampening my hard on but it’s still there, desperate to sink itself inside of her, to settle there. I took her hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. Her head lifted and our lips mushed together in a hungry kiss, a desperate tangling of tongues, tasting each other.

  “Just like this?” She whispered, placing her hands on my shoulders, seemingly in shock at the simple vanilla position of missionary that I clearly wanted to fuck her in.

  “Yes, just like this.” I breathed into the shell of her ear. “Just like this.” I moaned, rubbing the head of my cock up along her seam, soaking it in her wetness.

  The need to feel her tight heat wrapped around my cock was unbearable. My mouth stole hers away in a kiss again, when I sank deep inside of her, stifling her panting.

  I groaned when I settled in her heat, feeling like I was already about to explode. I stared at her features and the sight of her naked beneath me, my big cock lodged deep inside of her and her toned legs folded around my hips. Her breathing was erratic, slowing down and speeding up, depending on what I did to her. She was wrapped around my finger, only she didn’t know it. Or maybe she did.

  I dipped down and nibbled on her bottom lip, forcing her arms above her head, locking her wrists in one of my hands. I settled into a merciless stroke, that had my pulse thrumming in my ears and my heart pounding in my chest at the perfect sight in front of me of Violet’s naked flesh slicked in my sweat.

  She whimpered and dug into my shoulder harder, hanging on for dear life.

  That’s it. Hang on, baby.

  Violet

  “Fuck.” He groaned into my ear.

  I swallowed hard, desperate for air beneath him as his heavy weight slammed into me, taking my breath with each punishing stroke. He grunted and he growled, fucking me so hard that the frame of the bed had begun to screech across the floor, inching closer to the wall.

  A helpless whimper left me when my hands clutched his biceps to steady myself, gain some equilibrium in this pounding he’s delivering to my pussy.

  His mouth consumed mine again, hungry and desperate and then he lowered his body on top of mine, his breaths a light tickle on my cheeks. I was surrounded by the heat of him, consumed by the ferocity of his growls and grunts that he buried into the shell of my ear each time he let them out.

  He slowed and began to fuck me again. Helpless ugly sounds left my mouth as he settled into a delicious pace again, each stroke causing my legs to shiver wildly around him. He hissed something I couldn’t make out and then he was fucking me again, hard and right, hitting that very spot in the middle of me, making me scream. I gasped for air and inhaled the scent of his sweat that dusted my skin, sinking into his stroke and the feeling of him splitting me wide open with his thick cock.

  He growled like a fucking savage, terrifying me, drilling into me hard.

  I wailed and tore into his triceps, jerking like a maniac beneath him coming for dear life. He fucked me through my come hard and fast, wrenching everything I had in me. I moaned and screamed, somehow feeling like he’d stolen something from me, as if he’d unlocked something deep down I could never bury away again.

  I was exposed, like a faulty wire ready to burn this fucking house down.

  Everything went blank. Everything around me ceased to exist in my haze. Nothing mattered, except for the consuming feeling of being wrapped in this man’s arms while he tunneled into me, delving into my slit. The slick sounds filling the space between us and soaking the skin on the inside of my thighs.

  “I love to hear you scream, Violet.” He said hoarsely, pounding into me harder.

  The bed slammed against the wall harder, in rhythmic bangs that mixed in with the primal sounds that slipped from our mouths, carried away with the salty air that drifted in through the crack in the window. It was heaven.

  His forehead dipped down, pressing against mine as his heavy breaths puffed against my face. I swallowed him. His scent. His taste. The feeling of him, surrounding me, caging me in like a small defenseless animal held captive its captor.

  “Elijah.” I murmured.

  He slowed in and out of me, forcing me to become wrapped around him in beautiful agony.

  “Elijah.” I whined again, his name a chant on my lips while everything around me took over all my senses completely.

  He was everywhere. Around me, on top of me, deep inside of me – swallowing me whole. He pounded his heavy weight against me in a murderous pace until he roared. Like really fucking roared into the side of my neck and stilled, allowing me to feel every jerk and throb of his flesh deep inside of me as he filled me with his cum.

  He dipped down and pressed his lips to mine, consuming me in a powerful kiss. “I’m sorry I got carried away.” He whispered, raking his fingers through my hair.

  “It’s okay.”

  He shifted his weight in the bed, pulling me against his chest and into the crook of his body. We rested there, tangled in the sheets saying nothing more. The cool air tickled my hot skin, while I exhaled a long deep breath as his fingers skimmed my cheek.

  I was addicted to this man and there was no going back.

  Violet

  A few days later in the evening, Elijah had run me back to the city promising he’d be back later tonight. We’d spent the past few weeks between my place and his. Tonight, I hoped he’d stay the night and wouldn’t leave as he always seemed to do. He’d also told me he planned to quit the night job that he’d had for the last two years, so that
we could spend more time together. I only smiled but I didn’t pressure him.

  I lingered in the kitchen near the door, listening to the sound of his keys and footsteps as he approached before he prepared to leave. Strong arms encircled my middle and held me against his chest.

  “Can you come back?” I whispered into the soft strands of his hair.

  “Yes, of course.”

  His lips mushed mine in a kiss and eager hands raked through my hair and then slid down the back of my neck in a possessive clutch I’d recently grown used to. It claimed me. Silently, told me I belonged to this man although he hadn’t said it yet. The blare from a firetruck outside, broke the kiss. Elijah stood straight and ran his warm palm over my cheek, pressing another soft kiss to my lips.

  “I’ll be back later.”

  “Okay.” I said listening to the sounds of his footsteps head farther away and down the stairs, until it’s silent again.

  Spinning around, I edged along the granite countertops preparing myself a cup of tea. The scent of her floral perfume mixed with something vanilla, invaded my nostrils before I hear her voice or her footsteps.

  “Hey.” Brooke said softly. “Was that him?” She stuttered out.

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t get to introduce myself. He startled me the other day when he dropped you here. I was just coming around the corner and he was heading to his truck. He sc-.”

  Her breathing hitched.

  “He doesn’t know who you are, Brooke. I haven’t introduced you yet.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know Violet, never mind.”

  “Is everything okay?” I asked walking in the direction of her voice.

  “Yeah, everything is fine.” She said pulling me into a hug. “I was worried you’d catch a cab back.”

  “I wouldn’t do that, Brooke.”

  “You did the other day, Violet.” She said curtly.

  “Well, you know what? Today is today and the other day is gone.” I smiled, listening to the kettle boil.

  “No cabs, Violet. It’s too dangerous and you know that.”

  “Yes, I promise I won’t. Unless desperate.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time you did something that you said you wouldn’t do, Violet.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  She huffed. “It isn’t that. I don’t know.”

  I moved to prepare my tea. I dropped two cubes of sugar into my tea while we stood there in silence.

  “The date for the next show has been pushed up.”

  “How can you tell me that, Brooke? I am the artist.”

  “Well, after that little stunt you pulled at your last show, it was a public relations nightmare to have to explain what happened. You were lucky to have avoided assault charges.

  “But it actually increased sales.” She chuckled. “Believe it or not.”

  A smirk spread across my cheeks and the aroma of mint wafted around where I stood, when I take a long sip of the tea.

  “I’m just under a little more pressure now. Jonathan has already promised pieces in your next collection and given buyers delivery dates.”

  Jonathan Meyer was my art agent. He only complimented what Brooke did for me. He didn’t save me any trouble and in my opinion hardly earned his commission.

  “What!”

  “Yeah, he does it all the time.” She said nonchalantly.

  “He can’t do that.”

  “Violet.” She warned.

  “He can’t do that!” I yelled. “We don’t need Jonathan anymore! The fifteen percent he collects off my back, he barely does anything for it.

  “Brooke, we don’t need him. You do everything.”

  Something connected with the granite countertop hard, which I envisioned to be her hand. “Violet, maybe you don’t need him but I do.

  “I’m stretched so thin. I’m beginning to unravel and I don’t know how much longer I can do it.

  “Between you and the other artists I represent, running the gallery, managing your schedule, trying to find time for Kyle and taking care of you. I barely have time for myself!” She grated out, with unmistakable resentment in her tone.

  Taking care of me.

  “Well, maybe you should get rid of Kyle.” I suggested. “It would lighten your load.”

  She let out a long huff.

  “I’m sorry.” I said quickly.

  “I need a vacation Violet but you’re a full-time job.”

  “Well, maybe you should take one. You don’t need to worry about me, I have Elijah now.”

  “Are you two a couple or something?” She asked, her disbelief unmistakable.

  “I don’t know.” I said softly, running my hands over the soft material of my sweater.

  It was graveyard silent for at least a few seconds. “What?” I asked, desperate for her to say something.

  She shifted where she stood, her heels loud against the wooden floors. “It’s nothing, Vi.” She whispered, her voice growing distant with every word. She approached again. “Okay, actually it is.”

  “What is it?”

  She sighed again. “I just wondered if anyone has told you what he looks like?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Welll.”

  “Brooke.” I urged, raising my voice.

  “He’s handsome don’t get me wrong. He really is. His eyes are – are incredible and he has a real nice head of hair but he - .”

  “What Brooke?”

  “The side of his face. The left side. It’s scarred.” She whispered.

  “Oh.”

  “It’s scarred like really badly, Vi.”

  The left side of Elijah’s face had always felt different when I touched him there -whenever he let me. Rough and corded but I never bothered to ask why, thinking it wasn’t important.

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad, Brooke.”

  “He scared me Violet, when I rounded the corner.” She said softly, almost shamefully. “When I bumped into him, he scared me.”

  “Oh.” I breathed out.

  I spun away from her and ran a finger over my bottom lip, remembering the feeling of his lips beneath the pads of my fingertips.

  Soft. Full. Sweet.

  “I think it’s why he wears the hoodie all the time.” She added.

  My forehead furrowed and my brows cinched, while I thought about everything. Elijah did always have it on but it was freezing outside. Everyone wore hoodies, including me this time of year.

  “What happened to him?” She asked hesitantly, moving closer and placing a hand over mine.

  I had no answers for her. I hadn’t known Elijah for long. He’d gone from being a random guy I wanted to fuck, to being a friend. And now together, we were God knows what in a relatively short amount of time. Were we a couple? I still didn’t know.

  It was bad enough I’d fallen into suburban girlfriend land. Or, Hell as I used to call it. So, I wasn’t about to get into deep conversation with Elijah and ask him about his phobias, dreams and his deepest darkest secrets. I don’t do that shit...not yet anyways.

  My heart sank and for a moment, I think I understood it all. His obsession with the darkness. His refusal to come inside Rontom’s all the time. Why he always ran on the beach before the sun fully came up, unable to enjoy the sunrise.

  Was he hiding things from me? Did it matter?

  This man was closest I’d ever come to being in a relationship with anyone. I cared for him, a lot and for some reason I didn’t give a fuck if he wasn’t perfect. I was far from it with my own raging flaws.

  “Violet.” Brooke pressed for an answer in her demanding voice.

  “I don’t know.” I snapped, taking my cup of tea and heading towards my studio, disappearing from her sight.

  Elijah

  Shutting off the engine, I put the truck in park after I’d come back to Violet’s loft in the city. Looking up at the night sky, I took in how beautiful it was tonight. It’s clear and the stars that are distant light years away twink
led above me, lighting downtown Portland and the Willamette River. I stared at the flashing lights, admiring their bright colors and drifted off into a daydream.

  “Hey, Dad.” Dylan calls out, tossing me the Frisbee.

  Catching it with one hand, I set up the next throw and send it flying back towards Haystack Rock in the distance.

  Dylan is a little over five feet now and destined to be as tall as I am. His thick ebony hair that desperately needs to be cut, ruffles in the breeze and his eyes that are the color of the sky on a clear day squint beneath the sun. He has an arm like a baseball player and struck out nearly every batsman on his school’s baseball team.

  “There’s this girl I like.” He begins to explain while his voice catches with the wind.

  My brows furl and a silly grin spreads across my face. He lets out a deep breath and puts his hands up, like I’m about to shoot him and trudges towards me in the sand. We both plop down and remain quiet while we watch the seagulls dance and circle in the sky above us.

  I pull him into my chest and ruffle his thick hair.

  “Her name is Millie.” He laughs, wriggling out of my hold.

  “Okay.” I say, encouraging him to go on.

  “I like her a lot but I don’t know if she likes me.”

  He nervously wrings his hands and then slips them into the pockets of his thick hoodie.

  “I want to tell her I like her.” He mumbles.

  “Then you should. I mean you’re still too young for a girlfriend and all but if that’s how you feel then you should tell her.”

  “What if she rejects me? I’ll die, Dad.”

  I laugh out loud. “You won’t die, Dylan.”

  “Dad, I will. Seriously, I mean I’ll really die.”

  “If you don’t want to tell her to her face, write her a letter.”

  He stares at me, silently musing and then nods without speaking about it further.