His cheek slides down against mine and he nuzzles my hair with his nose, breathes me in and trails a line down the side of my neck with his fingers. His hand rises again and touches my face with more pressure as though he wants to ensure himself that I’m not a mirage. I feel his other hand sliding down my back and resting above my ass. He kisses my temple as my arms travel under his and I dig my fingers into his shoulders from behind. His mouth moves down to the corner of mine. He stops as his lips taste me, memorise me. I open my mouth wide and his tongue slides in, searches for mine as we’re clenched together in the agony of our yearning for each other. My skin prickles. My heart races. My body demands his.
Our breaths unite. Our mouths wide, moving frantically. Our hands entangle.
Then Seafra pulls back and starts walking. He’s dragging me behind him, picking up the pace so I start running, my breath heavy, and my heart dying in my chest.
We squeeze through a metal gate then climb four cracked stairs and walk into a white building through a navy ornate door. Seafra drags me up a narrow stairwell and shoves me into his small room.
I take a deep breath and his lips are on mine again.
They crush, demand, possess.
Chapter 6
Seafra
We should talk, but I can’t tear my mouth off hers. My whole anger centres on my lips taking possession of hers, on my impatient hands removing her cardigan and her t-shirt then undoing the braid made of her hair. I unhook her bra and toss it onto the floor. Her breasts wave as she steps back and gazes at me with her cheeks painted with the dark red colour of her shyness. My eyes absorb the fullness of her tits, the perfection of her areolas, and the whiteness of her skin. The sheer darkness of her amazing hair.
She hugs herself as I remove my hoody and t-shirt, kneeling in front of her and unzipping her calf-length skirt. My mouth plants kisses on her hip, around her navel, and she shivers under my touch. I lower her skirt to her ankles and she steps out of it then flings her body to the side, pulling at the duvet thrown on my bed. Her back flashes in front of my eyes for a split second before she dives under the duvet. I freeze.
There are scars on her lower back, burns probably and a few lines as though a knife was run across the skin of her upper back.
I pull forward and sit on the edge of the bed.
“Eavan?”
She sits in bed, wrapping the duvet around her up to her neck. Sadness clouds her face and she drops her head.
“I thought,” she murmurs. “You said... I thought...”
“Don’t think. I want you. I want you badly. More than any other woman in my life. You’re beautiful, the whole of you. It’s just... What happened to you?”
“I don’t want to talk. I want to fuck.”
My hard dick pulses at her words, but the last remains of my rationality urge me to talk. “Eavan—“
“No talking.”
“Is this the reason why you disappeared last time?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. Just don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t care about these scars as long as you don’t care about them.”
“This is you. These scars are you, Eavan. I just want to know—“
“You said... I don’t want to talk. I want to fuck.”
“Okay. Let’s fuck then.” I lift myself and remove my jeans as my hard cock springs out.
Eavan averts her eyes as I crawl under the duvet and pull her to me so we lie on our sides, facing each other.
My fingers travel to her cheek and I trail a line down to her chin and along the side of her throat.
“I missed you,” I say.
It’s fucking true. I missed her every day. Every woman in my arms was Eavan. I fucked them but I saw only my moth queen.
She flashes me a translucent smile as my lips search for hers and I feel like my heart is healing, like her touch is wiping away all the invisible dirt from me.
I regret every woman I touched instead of Eavan. I regret my whole meaningless existence without Eavan. And I am going to hold her in my arms for longer. Much longer. Maybe even like life-long. A thrill rushes through my veins at that thought. We’ll be like Tony and Nicole. I’ll fucking tie her to me if I have to.
This will be the new beginning. Me and her. Together. I want this more than anything else.
My fingers move down to her breast and I circle her nipple. It hardens at my touch. Eavan sucks in a breath, her eyes wide, burning. Her body shivers.
I slide my fingers under her panties, massaging her ass cheek, then rip the underwear off her.
“Hey,” she explodes.
“I will buy you another pair.”
She chuckles then stiffens as I run my finger along her slit. It’s wet, but not soaking wet like I want it to be. Eavan definitely needs to relax more. I want to pleasure her, make this sex special and very memorable so it will tie her to me, and make her crave more of my touch.
I tumble her on her back, moving atop her as my cock pokes into her inner thigh. The duvet slides down to the floor with a puff and Eavan jerks her hand to the side to catch it, but I take her wrist and put her palm on my cheek.
It’s clear to me that she’s not very experienced in bed, but that only makes me madder about her.
“Fold your legs and put your feet flat on the mattress, Eavan.” I stroke her breast as she follows my demand. “I’m clean, but if you want me to use a condom...”
I am very strict about pulling a condom on while being with a woman as is Coyote. Hale is another story, but I’m not his nanny. If he dies of some infectious shit, I’ll attend his funeral and burn a few candles every year for him.
It’s different with Eavan. I want to feel her without any barrier between us, the whole of her.
“You want without?” she murmurs.
“Yes, I want without.”
“That’s okay, but I’m not on the pill.”
“No?”
“No.”
At first, I’m surprised but then my inner animal growls with excitement. It seems like nobody is fucking her. Good. She’s mine. This thought hits me like a hammer. Yes, she is mine. She’s been mine since the moment I saw her for the first time.
It took me a while to realise that I was only hers, but now I’m on the right track. My needs and desires are absolutely clear to me, my goals established.
“I can manage,” I say and cover her mouth with mine.
Her slim arms wrap around my neck and she clings to me as though she’s seeking shelter in my arms. Very fucking pleasant. I want to be the safest shelter of the world for her and I fucking will be.
I love the freshness of being with her, but hate the mystery radiating from her. It’s not intriguing any more. I want to take her every secret out of her head and learn them. But most of all I want to be with her, now and later.
We kiss tenderly and I melt like a block of ice on a summer day. Our tongues stroke one another in a slow dance. I move my mouth down to her neck, biting lightly, caressing, and forcing sweet moans from her throat. My fingers stroke her breast and trail circles around her nipple as I rearrange my body. I run my tongue around both her nipples, then twist one of them and suck on the other.
It’s so fucking slow with her and a bit clumsy, but I love it. I stroke a path down the side of her chest with my palm and touch her mound. She stiffens beneath me.
“Eavan,” I murmur. “Just relax. I’ll be slow, I promise.”
She sighs as I plant kisses on her tummy and push a finger into her hot pussy. Her body arches and she turns her face to the side, catching a rapid breath, her hands grabbing my head.
Well, her nervousness is a bit challenging, but it’s sweet. I can manage. My thumb rubs against her clitoris as I gently finger her. Her thighs spread wider for me. Her arousal starts dripping from her pussy.
“Relax,” I rasp and kiss a line up her inner thigh then sink my face between her folds and lick her clitoris.
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Her smell and taste fill my mind with euphoria. I want to devour her pussy, drink it, lick it. Kiss it. My mouth wraps around her clitoris and I suck it, pumping my finger in and out. I feel Eavan’s body swaying delicately, responding to my touch. Her hips push against my face and she sinks her fingers into my hair, pulling my wisps. I work her faster, licking her clitoris, whipping it with my tongue, sucking, pushing two fingers into her pussy. Her heels dig into the mattress and she arches her back. A loud moan escapes her mouth as her body trembles and her inner walls contract around my fingers. Now, I drink her juices as I would from a fountain. A sense of pride wafts through me that I can pleasure her.
I pull my fingers out and move on top of her. My eyes meet the hazy glance of hers. She looks at me like she has just woken up from a pleasant dream, her cheeks pink like those of a porcelain doll. The most turning on image I’ve ever seen.
I hold my cock and guide it into her pussy, entering her in one firm thrust. She hisses and jerks her body towards the headboard, but I immobilise her with my weight. I can get really big when I’m aroused, and petite women sometimes experience a bit of pain while taking my whole length, but with enough time for the foreplay it’s never been any issue. With Eavan, something is not as it should be.
She wrinkles her forehead, her lower lip quivering, and droplets of sweat adorning her cleavage. Her fingers dig into my back as her thighs press against my hips.
“What is it, baby?” I ask and sweep a few wet wisps of her hair away from her face.
She winces and turns her face to the side, panting.
Fuck. Something is wrong, but I can’t think rationally.
Her hot tight pussy is clenched around my cock, stripping me of control. I’m on the brink.
“Breathe, Eavan.”
She nods at me, her palm stroking my cheek like a silent consent, as I move my hips against hers. A wave of delirious heat surges through me and I’m falling into the dark chasm of my desire. Pushing at her thighs, I open her legs wider for me and go deeper. She whimpers and trembles beneath me. It’s wrong, but I can’t stop. She’s too tempting, tight to the point where every thrust sends bliss down my body.
I don’t know what it is about her. It’s dark as though she’s calling to my primal instincts, awaking my most elemental needs. She makes me a ravenous hunger. Nothing more.
I put her calves on my shoulders, close her mouth with mine then stop moving for a moment. Our gazes meet. Hers is as dark as my lust. She puts her palms on my butt and pushes down, squeezing, so I fuck her hard, kissing her whimpers. Our bodies rock as one in this primal dance, touching hell and heaven, pain and pleasure.
Eavan bites my lower lip, her nails tearing through my back and she trembles violently. She screams her satisfaction as the rhythmic contractions of her inner walls around my cock push me over the edge.
I pound into her, wrenching in every wave of my ecstasy, rising towards the silver unity with the universe.
I’m blind and deaf then I breathe heavily. A fragile body beneath me squirms and I roll on my back, pulling that precious form into my arms.
Eavan groans as her chest rests against mine and my cock slips out of her. A warm sticky sensation spreads across my groin. I jerk my hand down and touch the liquid on my cock and thighs then take a closer look at my fingers. They’re covered in blood.
“Are you on your period?” I ask gently.
“No,” Eavan murmurs.
A realisation blasts in my head. “Are you a virgin?”
“I still was about fifteen minutes ago.”
“That’s...”
“I’m sorry.” She raises her head from my chest and looks at me.
“No, don’t be. That’s fucking amazing. It’s just... I should have been gentler with you.”
“It was really good.”
“Intense?” A flutter goes through my chest. I know I screwed. This was my job to be mature, slow and patient, but the truth is everything with Eavan is untamed. “Too intense?”
“Wild.”
“Painful?”
“Loved it, every second of it.”
I sweep wet tendrils of her hair clinging to her cheeks away from her face and inhale the smell of her sweat, relief rolling over me. “Do you want to have a shower?”
“Yes.”
I raise my upper body as her arms and legs wrap around me and I carry her like a child to the bathroom. Her lips search for mine and we kiss as I turn on the hot water in the shower cabin. My dick grows hard again. I step under the rain of pleasant heat with Eavan clinging to me.
Chapter 7
Eavan
He wasn’t very careful. In fact, he lost control entirely. We should talk about it, but the truth is I don’t really care. There is no past and no future, just this beautiful present and our bodies burning with a primal hunger. I don’t think. I just feel. I want to feel the whole of him, bath in our desire, and fuck until forgetfulness. I want to fuck raw, fuck fast, fuck forever. I want him to come inside me and I want to see his pleasure.
“Why a crow?” I ask him.
His insane eyes blink a few times and he rolls them as he plants me against the tiling, pulls away from me and cups my face in both his hands. “What?”
“The crow tattooed on your back. Why?”
His lips brush against mine then go down, touching my chin, grazing, caressing.
I chuckle. “I asked you a question.”
I’m hyperaware of his hardness touching my tummy, of the desire sharpening his face, but the tattoo on his back intrigues me. It’s a crow with outspread wings, a work of true art, gothic and mysterious.
Seafra’s palm runs up and down my outer thigh. “I can’t focus on any conversation.” His lips capture mine and demand, explore as his hand slides between my thighs.
I avert my face and catch a rapid breath. The shower cabin is filled with clouds of steam, enthralling us into a magical realm. The heat and the murmur of water create one powerful mix, weakening yet igniting wildness inside me. I notice tiny details-droplets on Seafra’s skin, veins on his arms, more ink on his chest. He is slim, but his body consists of pure muscle, absolute perfection.
For one desperate moment, I feel ugly compared to him.
I’ve never paid attention to my scars. I couldn’t afford that. But now, a beautiful man is standing in front of me, watching me and I want my scars to disappear. Then I kill all the doubts. I can’t afford to have them either.
I can afford to have an interesting conversation for an instant.
“Tell me,” I whisper. “Why a crow?”
“Crows symbolise magic and mystery.” He wipes water away from his face and shakes his head.
“I didn’t know about this.”
“And death.”
“That’s creepy.”
He chuckles. “Why a moth?”
“What?”
He kisses my forehead. “Like two souls brought back from the afterlife, brought back to be together.”
“I don’t understand. Your song?”
Seafra
“My life. From now on.” I grip her waist and lift her, slamming her on the green tiling then press my chest against hers. Our lips meet again. I can’t focus on talking. I know we need to talk, but I missed her so much that I can only focus on touching her, absorbing her and blending with her.
Eavan wraps her thighs around my waist and our kiss doesn’t break, but deepens, our mouths moving frantically then she turns her face to the side, catching a desperate breath.
My glance slides down to the bottom of the shower cabin. The delicate redness of her virginal blood is tinting the water at my feet in thin streaks. Something primal stirs inside me, crude like jagged mountain peaks, wild. I have just claimed her.
I took her innocence and made her mine. She belongs to me. Like olden times.
My heartbeat accelerates as I hold my cock and drive it into her again, kissing her groan of pain.
“Good?” I rasp.
“Good,” she gasps.
I hook her under the arms and fuck her, watching her unearthly face, indulging myself in her pain and pleasure. My thrusts are slow, but I go deeper and deeper. Eavan spreads her folded legs and surrenders to me entirely so I carry her at a steady pace then faster, harder until she rests her forehead against mine.
“I need,” she pleads, her voice laced with torment.
“I know, baby,” I say.
She needs to come so I clutch her outer thigh and pound into her, making her body rock against the tiling. She comes for me on my cock, trembling, moaning, crying then I come for her.
I enclose her in my arms until we steady our breaths, then I step out of the shower cabin, grab the towel and throw it on her back. The stream of water marks my way as I carry her.
We fuck again in bed. She’s on her stomach and I’m on top of her. It’s rough, fast, our greed for each other like a dry river meandering in a desert, drinking rain, gathering water, turning into a devastating force. I bunch Eavan’s wrists and pin her hands over her head, our bodies slapping against one another.
We fuck to the point of total exhaustion then lie on the bed, enclosed in the cloud of our dreamy languor.
“Why the symbol of death?” she murmurs, her head resting on my chest, her breasts against my stomach.
“Death is intriguing.”
“Do you want to die?”
“No, I want to find out what awaits people there. I don’t know; it’s interesting.”
“That’s creepy.”
“What is intriguing to you?”
“Castles with ghosts. I want my own castle with a ghost.”
“You see, you’re creepier than me.”
I run my palm up and down her back, the scars uneven against my skin. The tattoos belong to me; the scars belong to her, but they’re so much mine too. I want to ask her about them but Eavan drops off into oblivion, snoring lightly, resting on her back so I grab my phone and take a few photos of her. She mumbles something in her dream as I bury her in my embrace and drift off to sleep.
My last thought is that I want to wake up beside her, take her for a meal, and fuck her again. Then she’ll attend my concert and after, we’ll go to Coyote’s parents’ house. We’ll snuggle and talk, get to know each other better. I will cook for her and she will sit in the chair, smiling at me.
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