I’m only soothed a little when I find his smooth, hard length with both my hands, running them over and around his swollen tip until he moans louder, the heat of his precome running down my hands. The stiffness of his thick organ pumping in my hand, twitching as he lets me know he’s more than ready.
My whole body shakes, and opening myself as wide as I can to fit his body between my legs, our eyes lock.
I can see Xander, the male. The perfect face, chiseled and strong.
I can feel his smooth hardness, pumping in time with our heartbeats in my hands, tiny compared to his girth, unable able to wrap around him completely.
But I’m more aware of something else as he patiently lets me guide him inside me.
My own eyes widening, a sigh of pure pleasure escaping my lips as I watch what looks like the night sky in the shine of his eyes.
Without moving his mouth I hear him tell me he loves me, telling me this is what his love feels like and that this is his first time too.
There’s only an increasing sensation of my first climax with him times a thousand as he enters me. Each inch, each cell of him connecting with mine is an intense climax of its own.
A new world being formed from us both as we shift from Xander and Gillian to something whole.
Something complete.
Something I could only call pure love, floating in space somewhere.
Chapter Sixteen
Xander
She’s the perfect fit alright. Like everything in nature, the matching pair’s opposite is never identical.
Her feminine to hold my masculine. My hardness and size, her softness and delicateness.
I want to spend forever just holding her, tracing my hands over her, but there’s a stronger force in each of us that needs to be joined from the inside.
Like our first kiss, and everything else we’ve done and been through already, it’s like something bigger than us both unfolding and bringing us together.
There’s a new urgency in her tone compared to last night and I feel it too. It isn’t just our pleasure, which is out of this world.
It’s something else.
My drive to fill her with my seed isn’t just for my own satisfaction, although the sensation of finally claiming her, feeling her stretch and quiver around me as I fill her is beyond anything I could have wished for.
Being so big, I was worried about Gillian. I didn’t want to hurt her but our foreplay and shared passion sees us both ready sooner than I imagined.
When she begs me to fill her. To fill her with our babies I understand.
The deeper meaning of me being here, my years of waiting at the college working on other things.
All in preparation for this one magical moment. It all makes sense and without a single thought. Just this feeling between us and the newness to me of this thing called love.
Being inside her I feel a new pressure building inside me instantly, an incredible force that we both feel beyond our arousal.
She moves her hips, those perfect childbearing hips, in circles that pull a low growl from me as I grind harder inside her, telling us both she’s mine and I’m hers.
Her ankle is fully healed, and gripping both of her ankles firmly, I place one over each of my shoulders as she lifts her hips higher, letting me enter her fully, making us both groan louder with the new and intense pleasure it creates.
Our pleasure is multiplied in this position, but we both know I need to be balls deep inside her, so I pump her harder, faster, drilling her into the mattress, and true to my own instinct, not a drop can be wasted.
It’s our future she’ll carry. My seed inside her. Like a star in the cosmos, it will be born and grow, leaving others behind before it passes.
Looking deep into each other’s eyes when it happens, we both fall over the edge, our climax crashing into us with such a force her eyes roll back and I think she might have fainted, but she recovers.
Both of us feeling more than just pleasure and love has been shared and created between us.
As with her first orgasm by me, she shudders and quakes for a long time after, and tonight I join her, thrusting into her as I shoot load after load inside of her until both of us lie tangled, spent, and utterly exhausted.
But the smile we share, the new bond we’ve made. The love inside us both to carry. That’s eternal.
“Is it really like that every time?” she asks, gasping after a time, echoing my own thoughts.
“I can’t wait to find out,” I tell her, kissing her so tenderly, so deep that I feel like I’ve been made new again.
I felt stronger, more protective than ever of Gillian now that I feel we’re truly one.
She is mine, and I’ll be hers forever.
Laying together, naked on her bed I eventually cover us both for warmth as the cool of the night replaces our spent heat.
She tries to stay awake, wanting to do what I’m doing, just staring into her eyes and stroking her face, her shoulders. Leaning over to kiss her occasionally.
But she sleeps.
I watch her, and although I’m holding her, even though we’re joined with the greatest bond, I feel the pang of our separation already.
I know what I have to do next, and although it’s only a day or two, I know she’ll take me leaving hard.
It’s the one thing I couldn’t bring myself to tell her tonight.
Our first night together, knowing I have to leave is hard. But I’m determined this is the last time.
No more interruptions, no more crazy people following us, and no more men in dark suits.
No more space stuff either.
I’m done. I’ve found what I want and I’m keeping it.
Gillian and me.
As soon as I have the thought, there’s that ringing in my ears again and I wince with pain. The lights dim and flicker and then just as quickly, it’s gone.
I lay as long as I can beside her, knowing she still has the Patterson’s coming home in the morning.
This morning.
I don’t need or want to have to try and explain a seven-foot-tall male in the Patterson’s bed on top of everything else.
It’s before the gray dawn when I know it’s time, kissing her tenderly on the forehead, and stroking her hair for one final time for a while at least.
She smiles, sighing to herself in her sleep and once I pull away from her, her hand reaches out for me.
I put the warmth of my pillows in my place, knowing it’s not the same. That me not being there by her side, today or any other day will never be enough and I already feel the same.
A moment away from her warmth runs like ice in my veins, slowing time and making me feel half of what I know I should be.
I scratch a note for her, sliding it under her hand after I dress, taking up the same cell the agent gave me at the police station.
I dial the code I never thought I would so soon, and the monotone voice is there straight away.
“Sixteen?”
“I need Xander One,” I say firmly, feeling my jaw tense, waiting for a reply.
Dreading the outcome if I’ve made a mistake. Only caring about Gillian now.
There’s an imperceptible click on the line.
“We know. There’s a car out front waiting.”
The line goes dead and without looking at her again, I turn my back on Gillian sleeping.
Vowing to return as soon as I can.
Stepping out onto the Patterson’s lawn, there’s a blinding flash of heat to match the sensation of my ears ringing then exploding.
Letting me know it’s done.
I’m going home for the last time.
Chapter Seventeen
Gillian
It’s the best sleep of my life after the best night of my life, and I can feel the smile still on my face long before I open my eyes.
I reach for Xander in bed, but only find an empty space and figure he’s up already.
Sighing to myself, a pleasant little ache betw
een my legs, I almost drift back into the same dream I had all night.
Xander and I, holding hands and walking along a beach watching three moons rising over a starlit sky like nothing else I’ve seen.
I point out stars, planets, and constellations, asking him to remind me which each one’s called.
“Patterson’s,” he says with a patient smile before I point to another.
“The Patterson’s,” he repeats.
“Oooh, and that big one over there,” I ask again, tugging at his arm.
“The Patterson’s,” he repeats loudly. So loud it jolts me awake.
Fuck! The Patterson’s!
Glancing at the bedside alarm clock I groan loudly, it’s nine-fifteen and they’re due any minute.
I call out for Xander, not wanting to be rude, but it’s not a great idea for him to be here when they—
And then I see it.
The note.
A little crumpled from me rolling around on it in my sleep, but I find it.
A simple piece of yellow paper, folded with my name on one side.
I pick it up and slipping into my bathrobe I move through the house, calling for Xander again.
Making my way to the laundry to let Orion outside, I notice Xander’s car still in the driveway.
“Xander?” I call out again, a mild panic starting to rise in me.
Him being here when they get back is one thing, but if he’s not here but his car still is…
I feel a heaviness in my belly, but I know somehow everything is explained in the note I’m carrying.
With a shivering breath I move back to the bedroom, and sitting on the edge of the bed, I unfold his note.
He has excellent handwriting.
Gillian,
I didn’t know how to tell you last night that I had to go away for a while.
And not because of you or anything we’ve done.
In fact, it’s because of us I need to leave for a few days. To finish something I can’t explain right now.
I promised you I’d never leave you alone again, but this is the last time.
It hurts me to go, but please, please understand me.
I will return and we will be together again.
Xander.
P.S: Car’s in the driveway, keys are by your bed. Take it and stay at the cottage while you wait for me.
You will wait for me?
I love you.
X.
It’s not a goodbye note. It’s a wait for me I’ll be out of town for a while note.
But it still hurts.
I feel his hurt, mixed with my own already missing him.
I read it through, again and again, to make sure I’m not overreacting or reading things into it that aren’t there.
No. He’ll come back, I know he will.
Leaving his car and house should be security enough.
So why do I feel so bad?
Reading it again, I watch as some words blur and run before I realize I’m crying.
He could have told me anything, he can tell me anything.
Why would he go without saying a proper goodbye? A note doesn’t seem like him.
I remember those men, in the suits, with earpieces and it worries me. Xander can look after himself, but I can’t help the flood of thoughts that rush through my mind.
Imagining the worst in every situation. My old self. My pre-Xander self.
Orion barks outside and it brings me back to where I am, not where I imagine things to be.
Shit, they’ll be here any—
There’s a loud, staccato honking of a car horn from out front of the house and I feel sick all over again.
They’re here.
The honking continues and then I remember Xander’s car. A car so big it’s more like a boat, taking up their whole driveway.
Sniffing my tears away and getting up to go downstairs I notice the sheets.
Those look new. Courtesy of the Palazzo’s I imagine. Bless them.
New, but very I just had sex on your bed last night sheets, Mrs. Patterson.
Fuck.
I race to strip the bed, and in my rush to get to the laundry to put them in the machine to wash, I feel my ankle twist.
It feels like everything’s going from bad to worse without Xander here. I already miss his calm strength, his corny jokes.
His huge and imposing size that just makes me feel safe from the world.
But the world’s here and I’m in it, and the Patterson’s are pounding on their own front door, ringing the bell.
I even hear my cell phone ringing, which could only be my dad.
“I’m coming!” I call out, trying to sound cheerful, tucking my chest back into my robe and hobbling in agony to the front door.
Passing the living room window I can see the Patterson tribe lifting heavy luggage from a cab.
With an out-of-state patrol car behind it.
My dad’s precinct.
I swallow hard and start to shake uncontrollably, suddenly not wanting to open the door. Not ready for the Patterson’s or my dad or anything.
I just want my Xander back.
“Honey? Honey, its dad. Open the door will ya?” I hear a familiar voice holler.
There’s an edge of worry to it but the Patterson’s all look completely happy from where I stand.
I take a final breath, swallowing hard again, and with my shoulders sagging I feel myself moving towards the door and pulling it open.
I’m expecting Armageddon, and it feels like the ground will open up and swallow me whole until I feel my dad brushing past me.
“Jeez, Gillian! I’m about to bust out here, what took you so long to open the damned door?” he mutters, making a bee-line for the bathroom by the laundry.
I remember his prostate thing, but why is he here?
There are high-pitched squeals and a loud “yoo-hoo” from the curbside.
I look up to see Mrs. Patterson flapping her hand, waving hello. She has on a huge straw hat and enormous sunglasses.
She looks happy. They all look so happy.
The Patterson’s. Not my dad.
Her husband is helping the cab driver unload, the kids are racing towards the house, ignoring me completely as they race outback to reunite with their beloved dog, Orion who’s yelping with glee.
I feel like I’m frozen, stunned somehow.
My dad appears behind me, sighing to himself.
“That’s better,” he lets me know, icily pecking my cheek as he sidles up next to me.
“You okay honey? Slept in, huh?” he observes. “I drove down anyway. To surprise you. The place looks great, I don’t know what you were so worried about,” he remarks with forced casualness, murmuring into my ear that I should go get dressed.
“I’ll see the Patterson’s in, just get dressed hm? Then maybe we can grab some breakfast someplace. Have a little chat.”
Like a zombie I limp up the stairs again, close the door, and dress, coming back down in time for more of Mrs. Patterson’s gushing homecoming hellos.
Nobody but dad notices my limp. Nobody mentions the huge black car in the driveway. But I know my dad would have already run the plates.
It’s a good ten minutes before anyone even lets me answer a question they’ve all spent so long guffawing about themselves.
Their time away, the flight, the kids. Blah. Blah. Blah.
It’s all so… normal.
“Gillian was worried the house would be a mess when you got home,” my dad announces, looking over at me with a little suspicion.
Mrs. Patterson raises her brows as she scans her home here and there.
“It’s alright sweetie. You did your best, we’ll have a maid come through and clean the place properly,” she says primly and I actually laugh out loud. Almost hysterically for a moment.
“Honey?” my dad says leaning over. “Get a grip. I’m here now. Everything’s okay.”
All eyes are suddenly on me. An awkward silence filling t
he air.
Not wanting today to be anything but about her, Mrs. Patterson rescues me, loudly announcing she’s dying for a cup of coffee.
“A real cup of coffee. That stuff they serve on the plane just isn’t like the homemade stuff, is it?” she asks everyone, and tossing off her huge hat, she finds an apron and settles herself into the routine of being Mrs. Patterson at home again.
“Your father tells us you had an accident?” Mr. Patterson drones somberly.
He’s an older, round man. Shorter and way more serious than his wife. A large shining head with a tuft of gray he refuses to stop combing over in an attempt to claim he ‘certainly isn’t going bald.’
“You did, didn’t you?” My dad echoes, his own way of asking for some more information in a nice way.
In front of the company, I feel obligated.
“I did. I was walking Orion, who ran off—”
“Orion would never run away,” Mrs. Patterson chimes in, a matter of fact.
My dad urges me with his chin to continue.
“…And I fell down a ledge in the woods,” I go on, ignoring her but glad to see some coffee’s not far away.
“Yes. And a Professor from the college found you, and took you back to his place, didn’t he?” My dad asks, hijacking my story and giving me bullet point facts in his own way.
Facts I didn’t know he was even aware of until just now.
The local cops have been in touch obviously. Dad’s surprise visit is all business, I can tell.
I know he’s come down to take me home himself after he’s made some more of his own inquiries.
He’s very good at what he does, and being his daughter won’t get me off the hook.
“To his house?” Mrs. Patterson exclaims, making an owlish face, blinking down her long nose.
“It’s certainly unusual,” agrees Mr. Patterson in his deep grandfather-like voice, frowning.
I feel my chest tighten like I can’t get enough air no matter how hard I breathe.
I wish Xander was here.
Actually, right this second? No, I don’t. This is bad enough.
“It is unusual,” My dad echoes, settling himself down at the kitchen table and motioning to me with his hand to sit opposite him.
His Shooting Star: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 10