by Elen Chase
"You're not scared of me?"
He caressed my face, drying my tears, and I closed my eyes, enjoying that soft sensation. "No," he said, gently closing his lips on mine. I hoped I could pull away before losing my head, but his kiss was so slow, delicate and comforting, it melted my brain entirely. He skillfully forced me to open my mouth, and before I knew it, we surrendered to a wet, hungry, passionate kiss. I have no idea how much time we spent there, completely lost in each other.
Chapter 45
I didn’t leave his side all day. I could never get tired of looking at him. I felt anxious, unable to understand what was going on inside of me, yet being with him was a risk I was more than willing to take. How did he do that? I was scared, blocked, wondering what was right or wrong, and then he made all my defenses fall, and I found myself trapped in a magic I couldn't stop. Of course I was absolutely unable to do any of the things I had planned for that day; we were in a meeting with Bill all afternoon, doing a video call with Jim to let him know the news, and even if I tried, I really did, I couldn’t listen to a word they were saying; I spent the entire time observing Dan and thinking of us together. His words were still pounding inside my head, You are everything to me. That's what he wanted to tell me seven years before when he left for Downtown, he said. Did his feelings for me stay the same for all those years? How I wished to know what he was thinking at the time… Would things have been different if he told me before?
"You’ve been staring at me all day," he told me as we were walking home on the sea shore in the evening. "Do you have something to say?"
"Say, Dan, are we… dating now?"
"… dating? I wouldn't really call it that."
"How would you call it?" I said, and hesitantly took his hand in mine.
"I don't know… it's a new thing for me," he said, looking at our hands.
"I'm a bit nervous about it. If you think about it, just a couple of days ago you told me ‘nothing changed between us, let's just forget what happened.’"
"I didn't think you really wanted this. I still don't know if you’re only going through a phase of confusion or something. I was always just a friend for you."
"You were never ‘just’ a friend for me. What changed in the past days?"
"Maybe the way you look at me," he said. "Oh, and that terrified face you were making every time you were about to touch me."
"Are you making fun of me?"
"I thought it was cute."
"I still feel a bit uneasy touching you," I said, holding his hand stronger. "I am really regretting what happened the other night… I want to treasure you more from now on."
"I see. So no sex between us?" he asked me, and I stopped walking.
"How did you come to that conclusion?"
"You just finished saying you feel uneasy touching me and want to treasure me."
"Yes, but..."
"So you want to do it or not?"
"You sure are direct about it. Are you the same person who was getting all jittery talking about our first kiss?"
"That is that and this is this. Why wouldn't I be direct? We had a rough start already."
"Because I don't want it to be like the last time," I said, feeling my face turning so hot I didn't have the courage to look straight at him. "I want to do it properly next time." He didn't reply anything and, curious, I lifted my head up to see what kind of face he was making. He seemed surprised, with his mouth half open. Then his eyes smiled, and he laughed, honestly, like it came from the bottom of his heart. That laughter is so beautiful it should be outlawed. I pulled him toward me and hugged him so strong we lost balance and fell on the sand, me on top of him. The waves were slowly eating the shore up, getting closer to us.
"Ouch," he said, "you’re heavy."
"You're mine," I said, losing myself in his eyes. "I'll treasure you, and I don't want anyone else to ever touch you again… Can you promise me you won't have any other flirt or anything like that?"
"I can't really keep promises," he said. "Is it the same if I do it without promising?"
"As long as you really do, I guess."
"I want to ask something of you too." He cleared his throat. "If tomorrow, in a week, or any time from now on, you happened to meet a woman you’ll want to be with, I ask you to leave me. It’s okay, it really is. Even more than being with you, I want you to be happy."
“Why are you saying this?” I hugged him tight. "I don’t care about all of that; it has to be you, only you." I nuzzled up against his neck and kissed it. It was warm and smelled so good.
"Nh." A little moan came out of his lips and pierced my heart like an arrow. I moved my head up and looked at him. "What?" he asked.
"Do you like it?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"It's so sexy," I said, securing my arms around him, and I moved my lips on his neck again, this time sucking passionately. I could feel him move, responding to my kisses and my touch, under the weight of my body. That was driving me crazy. Suddenly the sound of the waves got stronger, and cold, salty water splashed on us. "Fucking waves," I said, laughing, completely drenched.
Dan laughed too, flipping back his hair, which had fallen all over his face due to the water. All wet like that, I found him even more seductive than before.
"You're a mess, you've got sand all over you," I told him, stroking his head.
"You too," he said, took a bunch of wet sand in his hand and mashed it on my forehead.
"You…" I said, grabbing him by his shirt and drawing him closer. I was about to kiss him when another wave got us. "Enough!" I screamed at the sea, happy to see Dan laugh like I hadn't seen him in years.
"Let's go back," he told me, giving me his hand to stand up, and I held it tight on our way home. I want to be with him. More. Always.
When we closed the apartment door behind our back, silence fell between us. We were standing in front of each other, and tension and excitement were growing inside of me as I fastened my gaze on him.
"We're gonna catch a cold like this," I said, letting myself go, pulling him closer, scared and at the same time looking forward to what could happen between us at that point. I unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, kissing every inch I uncovered of his salty skin, from his neck, his chest, his belly, stopping only to allow him to get rid of my t-shirt. I loved how he gasped, feeling my lips on his body, holding his breath as I touched him. He wrapped his arms around me as I bit and sucked the base of his neck, leaving my mark on him. Mine. All mine. My skin was burning in every spot he touched, giving me the shivers every time a drop of cold water fell on it from his hair. Losing the ability to think clearly, I rushed my tongue into his mouth, pushing him to the wall, enjoying the sensation of my naked chest on his. He moved his fingers through my hair and brought his mouth to my ear, licking and biting my earlobe. I felt an electric shock running down my body and suddenly became even more conscious of his breath on my skin. I let a weak moan out when he bit my neck and found myself extremely self conscious about it. But that probably turned him on even more, as he gave me a quick look and kissed me again, sucking on my tongue with even more passion than before. I wanted him to react to my touch too. I moved my hands on his nipples, and a high pitched sound came out of his mouth. This is so sexy, I thought. Even more than what I heard before on the beach. Did he like it like this too when I moaned before? I wanted to hear more, so this time I closed my lips on his nipple, licking it rhythmically, while my hands were unzipping his pants, longing to free his erection from the tight fabric. When I reached my goal, I quietly bit the nipple I was licking and sucked it hard. He was hard and hot and I started stroking him, guided by his breath and his moans.
"Drew, stop, stop." He moved my head back, making me understand that I was overdoing it. His hands moved on my skin, from my chest to my stomach, and all the way down. I was already hard, aching and leaking, and his touch was more intense than what I could hope for. I was sure I wasn't going to last long.
"Drew," he f
orced me back to reality. "Do you want me?" he whispered to me, his voice breaking with lust. My heart raced, yet the thought of it being like the last time was unbearable. I was serious when I told him I wanted to treasure him, and I had no intention of failing him.
"I do," I said, "but I don't want to hurt you… I can wait."
"I want to be yours again." I wasn't expecting that at all, and I felt excited and scared at the same time. I didn't know what to do. He probably noted the hesitation in my eyes and asked me, "Do you trust me?"
I was slowly getting conscious of all the implications of what we were doing and were about to do, and I was on edge. In spite of everything, I decided to trust him. I nodded my head, and he guided me to his bedroom.
We sat on the bed and finished undressing each other, throwing our clothes on the floor. My heartbeat went crazy as he opened the drawer next to the bed and took a lotion from it.
"You're nervous," he told me as he sat again on the bed next to me. I really was.
"I guess I'm not drunk enough this time," I said with a crooked smile, and put my forehead on his. "But I trust you."
He pushed me down on the bed and moved on top of me, then squeezed the content of the bottle on his fingers and touched me. It was a gel, slippery and cold. "Just relax," he told me. The movements of his hand on me were now way smoother, my excitement growing so intense it was almost painful. He put more gel on his hand, but before he could do anything with it, I stopped him. I touched his hand and took all the gel on my fingers, then I pulled him closer, having him fall with his face on the crook of my neck, and slowly put a finger inside him. He gasped at first, but then relaxed on my chest. From that position I couldn't go too deep and it was a bit uncomfortable for me, but he seemed to enjoy it, so I didn't say anything.
"It's so hot inside of you," I said, moving my finger circularly, pressing against his walls. Then I put another finger inside and repeated the movement from before. With his face on my chest I couldn't see his expression, but I recognized the sexy sounds I had heard before. He was melting in my arms, and I loved it.
"Does it feel good?" I asked, teasing him.
"It feels... so good..." he answered, honestly, and again I felt excited and restive at the same time. While I was stretching him with my fingers, he started rubbing our erections together, driving me insane, my body aching with want.
"Dan," I called his name. "Can I...? I'm already at my limit." Instead of talking, he answered with his body. He moved back, straddled me and had me penetrate him like that. It went in a lot easier than the last time, and it felt amazing. It was tight, slippery, hot and intense, to the point I found it hard to breathe. For a moment I saw a wince of pain on his face and I was ready to stop immediately.
"Does it hurt?"
"Just a little. I'm alright."
"Are you sure? We can st— "
"Drew," he shut me up, "I'm sure. I like the way it hurts." That said, he slid further down and started riding me. I sucked a breath in and instinctively moved my waist and jerked him off, following his rhythm.
It was amazing having him in control; all my body was drawn to him and I could only want more, deeper, faster, stronger. I was holding back like hell, wanting it to last forever, and at the same time I felt the need to take, mark and own him.
"Dan, I want to kiss you," I pleaded, moving up to make him understand I wanted to change position. I rolled on top of him and slammed our lips together in a raw kiss, all teeth and tongues. It was too cold out of his body; I used some more lube and pushed back inside of him. It was my first time looking at him from that angle, completely exposed, sweating and sexy. Fighting the instinct to just fuck him hard into the mattress, I moved with rhythmical thrusts, slowly delving deeper inside of him, guided by his moans and his breath.
"Drew, let go," he whispered to me, his voice ragged, a faint smile on his lips.
“Eh?” It was way too hard to think with my head in that moment.
“You can let go… I want more… want it harder.” He bit his lower lip. “You won’t hurt me… come on… want you…”
I lost it. I literally fell on him, my thrusts now powerful and uncontrolled, our ragged breaths mixing together, our mouths biting and sucking into each other. I wanted to swallow him, and I made love to him desperately, urgently and madly. Climax hit me with a final, deep thrust, our bodies clashing together. I stayed still through my aftershocks, until I regained consciousness of the world. Warm liquid leaked all over my hand, and I could still feel Dan pulsing under my fingers. I waited for the last flashes of pleasure to be gone, then brushed his lips with mine, in a sweet, intimate kiss which deepened as he opened his mouth for me, longing for contact. Dan actually moaned in our kiss, making me want to draw him closer, coddle him and make him forget the rest of the world.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, completely exhausted, my voice hoarse, when our lips finally parted.
"I've never been better," he said, still trying to catch breath, a sweet smile on his face. "Can you get me a couple of tissues?"
I wasn’t expecting him to switch so fast to the… practical matters, so to speak. I chuckled, happy to be learning something about his after sex habits, took his face in my hands and laid a hundred kisses all over his cheeks. From his surprised expression, I figured he wasn’t used to this sort of displays of affection. I gave him one last, hard kiss on the lips and went to take a tissue box from the toilet. When I was back, I cleaned myself first and then him.
"You were saving up quite a bit," I said.
"It's been a while for me now." I couldn't help thinking of that night, and I pouted, angry at myself. He noticed something was going through my head. "The other night you triggered something inside of me," he told me, looping his arms around my neck and pulling me again down on the bed, my head on his chest. "It's complicated, and it's difficult for me to talk about it… I've been whoring myself out for anything… to the point that being treated like an object became normal to me, and I naturally used sex to get what I wanted. But you made me realize that I have a choice. It's because of what you told me."
"What I told you?"
"That I am yours. That I was supposed to be yours right from the start. For the first time in a long, long time, I chose on my own free will to go back where I belong: back to you."
Those words reached me deeply in my heart. I wanted to know more. I wanted him to tell me all that passed through his head and all that he felt. I wanted to ask him why he refused to look at me that night: if he was angry, sad, or disappointed in me. But I couldn't bring myself to. He clearly said how it was difficult for him to talk about it, and I wanted to respect that.
Probably wondering why I wasn't replying, he released our hug and sat on the bed. "You're blushing," he said, looking at me. I felt my face burning.
"Shut up, don't look at me." I threw a pillow at him, and he laughed. I loved his laughter.
"We really made a mess here," he commented, looking at the bed. "Go take a shower first, I'll change the sheets."
"Okay," I told him, "sure you're not coming with me?"
"You're too spoiled. Get your ass off here now."
"So cold! You're not really the cuddling type, are you?"
"Can you tell?"
"We'll have to work on it," I told him, gave him a quick kiss and got out of bed. "By the way," I said before entering the bathroom, "where did you get that lotion from?"
"I found it in one of the drawers a few days ago," he said. "Couldn’t expect less from Bill's house."
"Were you ever here with him?" I asked. I couldn't help being jealous of Bill.
"No," he said, shaking his head, "not even in the past. I had never come here to Pholis with him before." I was relieved by that answer.
Chapter 46
The famous Mr. Hutchison looked younger than what I thought judging by his voice on the watchpad. A man in his fifties, tall and thin, he had a beard, mustache, and black smooth hair. He had come to meet me in Pholis only
to discuss with me a plan we had settled in a meeting with Bill and Jim, under the suggestion of Ms. Wilson. He spent the whole time looking at me as if he was trying to read my mind, making me sort of uncomfortable around him. For some reason, Dan had refused to come with me, and I felt the pressure of having to handle that important conversation on my own.
"Ms. Wilson— " I began to say.
"She already informed me," said Mr. Hutchison bluntly, his eyes fixed on me. "I can recommend two people to the catering company who will serve at the inauguration gala dinner of the Summer Festival. Have you brought the necessary documents?"
"Yes, sir," I replied, and took out a file with the false personal data Dan had arranged for the both of us. Mr. Hutchison gave a quick look at the documents to check if everything was in order. "A remarkable curriculum," he commented, "they can't possibly discard you if I add this to my personal recommendation. A job well done. Did you prepare this?"
"… no," I had to admit. The way he looked at me prevented me from saying anything else.
"Somehow, I thought so," he said. What does that mean? That I don't look able to? I felt like I was being treated like an idiot, and I didn't like that at all. Moreover, I hoped I could talk with him about Shallie, but he was in complete control of the conversation, leading it wherever he pleased. Doesn't he feel like apologizing for not being able to save her? Isn't he going to tell me something more about her, about how she died? I was growing angry. "Do you already have a plan for how to act that night?" he asked me.
"Yes. Our target is Boguslav Domme." Domme was the President of the Sunrise Foundation, a famous organization supporting research on terminal illness, and the priest in charge of the third cycle. His duty within the sect was to choose the victim and find a place for the ritual. Since it was almost impossible to figure out who the victim would be, we had decided that the best thing to do was to focus on him. Obviously, they were going to be way more careful this time, compared to February; we all agreed that we couldn't expect the crime scene to be a flashy villa and that none of the members would bring maids or servants with them. They were on their guard, and this time they were expecting us to do something. We had to take action first, or we were going to be way more at risk than them.