Symphony of Light and Winter (30 page)

He combed his fingers through my hair and caressed my hip as we both delighted in the aftershocks.

Once we recovered, he withdrew, leaving the bed, but not before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss upon my lips. He returned moments later with a pewter basin filled with warm water, a soft white towel, and a washcloth.

He reached for my hand and urged me toward the edge of the bed. He kissed me with gentleness, a contrast to our coupling. Situating me in front of him, he dipped the cloth into the water and nudged my thighs, motioning for me to open them. I complied.

I watched as he cleaned the evidence of our joining. The cloth tickled as he brushed it gently up the inside of one thigh and then the other. He placed the cloth in the bowl and fixed his gaze on the glistening curls between my legs.

He moved his hands to the inside of my thighs and ran the back of his fingertips up until he met my core. He inspected me, running his fingers through the coarse, moist hairs. With one digit, he delved between my folds and looked up into my eyes.

“This is mine. Only mine. Mine to take. Mine to command. Mine to fill. Mine to fuck.”

With his declaration, he pushed two fingers inside me, curving them to rub against the inside wall with perfect precision. He rocked them in and out as he brought his thumb up to press against my sensitive nub. Keeping his hand in place and his pace steady, he leaned up to kiss me. He held me close with his free hand as the other continued to play my body. I thought about watching his hands glide across the piano and so many times I pictured them touching me.

“Linden, you’re like silk. I want to feel you come. I want to taste you on my hand.”

His passionate kiss, his words, and his touch were all I needed. I stiffened from pleasure as another orgasm gripped my body.

“That’s it. So beautiful.”

He kissed me through the tremors and gently rubbed my back.

Trailing kisses from my lips, to my ear and down my neck, he pulled away and reached up to brush the sweat-soaked tendrils of hair out of my face. He fixated on my expression, bringing his dew-soaked fingers to his lips and licking them clean.

After savoring my taste, he returned his focus to the basin. Several wordless minutes passed as he bathed me with loving devotion.

I broke the silence. “Have you ever been loved, Cyril? Has anyone made you the center of their world? Thought of you before all others including themselves? Filled each day with comfort of knowing someone cares enough to do anything for you?”

“Does Stanton count?”

“No, he doesn’t count.” I smiled in appreciation of the close friendship he had with Overton.

“No, never.” His eyes glistened with anticipation.

“As of this moment, your last statement is a lie. Let me love you, Cyril. Let me give us both what we’ve never known.”

He cupped my face. “Show me.”

I moved to kneel on the bed, and then put both of my hands on either side of his face and placed my lips on his.

Slow, deliberate. An exploration. His arms snaked around me and caressed me softly. I kissed my way along his jaw to the soft crevice behind his ear. Lingering there, I thought of his confession, how he never made love. I thought of the nights of torture he endured to ensure my safety. I thought about the paintings and who I was through his eyes, about his words in the journal, and his treatment by the Goddess. It couldn’t be easy to find love, given who and what he was. How long had he been denied? I refused to be the one to deny him.

One last kiss on the soft smooth skin and I whispered, “Cyril, let me be the one to love you.”

“Linden…”

His lips crashed against mine, but I broke the kiss and held him at arm’s length. I brought his hand once again to my face and placed my cheek against his palm. I kissed each finger and stared him in the eyes. I swirled my tongue around his index finger and I sucked it into my mouth while I made direct eye contact with him. He sighed and his cock twitched as it rested, thick and heavy against my leg.

“Have I told you how good you taste?”

His breath hitched. “No.”

“You are absolutely delicious. I used to have this fantasy about you. Hell, you may have seen it in my head. You were always playing the piano and I would reach down, undo your pants and pull out your cock. I’d touch and tease it while you played and eventually lower my head to wrap my lips around it. I would lick and suck every inch of you, savoring your taste, all while satisfying my morbid curiosity to see if you’d still play like a virtuoso when you came in my mouth.”

His mouth gaped open and he attempted to speak. On his third attempt, he was successful. Never breaking eye contact he said, “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

“I guess I will. We’ll save that for another day. I have something else in mind.”

“Really? For the record, I have no objections to you using me to fulfill your fantasies. Oh, to look into your eyes as you look up at me while your lips…ah…”

I placed a finger against his lips. “Shhh…we have a lifetime for that.”

“Not a lifetime. Forever.”

Coaxing him onto the bed in a seated position, I straddled him. I rested one hand on his shoulder and with the other grasped his cock. He was so thick, I couldn’t close my hand. I poised myself above him and made sure he stared directly into my eyes. He once said he wanted to watch my face as I took his cock. I slowly sank onto him, inch by glorious inch. I tried to communicate my ecstasy with my eyes. He touched my lower lip when I sighed at how he filled me. His arms held me tight and, once fully seated, we began to move.

He glanced every so often from my eyes to my swaying breasts. With every movement my nipples grazed his chest. I arched my back to expose the peaks to him, and without hesitation he captured one between his lips. His tongue teased the tip as he sucked hard. When he switched to the other, his pace increased. We writhed together, entwined for some time.

“Linden, I love you. You are mine.”

I kissed him. “Yes.” The word escaped on a sigh as his hand kneaded my breast.

He pulled away from me and I watched as he exposed his fangs. In one quick movement he pierced his lower lip. The blood appeared instantly and started to trickle down his chin.

“Taste. It will protect you from darkness. I want forever. Drink.” He placed his hand behind my head and pulled my face toward his.

Leaning in, I licked clean the escaping liquid. A taste of the darkest chocolate hit my tongue, and the electricity between us increased. I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and sucked it while he moved harder and deeper within me. The wound kept giving and with each pull I became statically charged, making my chest tight. He gripped my shoulder and pushed me away from his lip. He dipped his head again to my breast. When he sucked the nipple into his mouth, he bit. With each draw, he moaned. Unlike anything I ever felt, all pain canceled by his lapping at the wound, his blood coursing through my body, amplifying pleasure, my orgasm moments away.

In one swift movement, he lifted us and flipped me on my back. I pulled up my knees to give him better access, and he pounded into me over and over again with punishing thrusts.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said as his pelvis continued to meet mine. “I’m never letting you go. Fuck. I can’t get enough.” The sounds of his balls slapping hard against my ass brought forth another peak. “Let me see your face. Come for me. Show me how I make you feel.”

He sped up and I lost my ability for conscious thought. I came hard. My fingers dug into his muscled back as my climax commanded me.

He was still fucking me when I gained the ability to concentrate again.

He waited for my permission.

“Come on, Cyril. Take what is yours.”

His face showed signs of agony, pleasure, relief, joy, and love all at the same time. He bellowed and threw his head back. Soon his intense gaze returned and held me captivated with each jolt of his climax. He burrowed deeper with each thrust, his eyes never leaving mine.

He laid his weight on me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders while burying his face in my neck. With his final violent thrusts, the air crackled and his cock pulsed, releasing the last of his seed.

As his quakes quieted, so did his movement.

His weight comforting, I rubbed my hand through his hair and down his back. “I love you, Cyril. I think I always have.” I hoped that I hid the sadness in my statement. Tomorrow night, I would leave him. I needed him to know how much I cared.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

He pulled his head up to place a light kiss on my lips.

If it was the last thing I did, I wanted him to know above all else, he had been loved.

* * *

The heat surrounding me comforted me in sleep. My eyes were hard to open, the arms wrapped around me evidence I wasn’t alone. Cyril.

Memories of the night before ran through my mind as his lips kissed my hair and squeezed tighter when I stirred.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I yawned.

I rolled on my side to face him. “Have you been holding me like this all night?”

“Yes. Well, for most of the night. I attended to a few small things but returned quickly.” His smile gave radiance to his face I didn’t know existed.

“Why didn’t you go do something else? You didn’t have to stay with me.”

“I didn’t know when you would wake up and I didn’t want you to awaken alone. I’ve waited ages to have you. I will not waste a moment.”

I should have been happy but my heart shattered, knowing it would be the last time he held me. Tears flooded my eyes, defying my command to remain hidden.

“What’s wrong, Linden? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I grabbed his hand and kissed it. “No, you didn’t hurt me. All of this is so unbelievable. It feels so fragile, like anything could break it, without even meaning to.”

“I won’t allow it.”

“What makes you think you have a choice?”

“There’s always a choice, Linden.” His hand mindlessly made circles in the hollow of my back.

“You know… Sometimes I wish there wasn’t.”

“Then let me take away your choices. I command you to stay here with me always.” He wrapped his arms around me tighter, but soon pulled back to stare at me.

“Why do I feel so much sadness in you? Do you regret last night?”

“No. Not at all. It was so perfect. I’m sorry it’s over.”

He rubbed his naked body against mine, causing my heart to skip a beat. My breath halted. His hardness brushed against my fleshy bottom. I wasn’t sure if my body could survive another round, but no matter how much of him I had, it would never be enough.

“It doesn’t have to be, but you did pass out. I figured you needed a break.”

“I did.”

“Come on, you’re probably starving. Let me make you something to eat while you shower.”

He pressed quick kisses against my neck as he carried me the entire way into the bathroom. When he finally placed me on my feet, his final kiss met my lips and lingered. And lingered…

“I’d better go or you’ll never get clean.” He eyed me with what seemed like indecision. I gave him a push, urging him toward the kitchen.

My shower was uneventful with the exception of the bathroom being fully exposed to the rest of the cabin, giving Cyril a full view of my lathering and rinsing. Every time I looked his way, he was staring at my wet, naked body. The look on his face sent a flush through me.

The scents wafting from the kitchen smelled delicious. Pancakes and sausage.
I threw on the oversize robe hanging on the wall and walked across the room to the kitchen.

“I’ll cook more if I get that kind of entertainment,” he said as he leaned over to kiss me.

“If those pancakes taste as good as they smell, I’ll throw in a striptease next time for free.” I shouldn’t have said it. I knew there wouldn’t be a next time. Wasn’t it a gift to give him a happy memory? I didn’t want him to remember me with tears in my eyes. I could do it for him, live in the moment. Play one last part.

“Beautiful, you’ve got yourself a deal,” he said as he tore off a piece of pancake and dipped it in a cup of syrup. He raised it to my mouth and the sticky liquid dripped down my chin, between my breasts, and down to my stomach through the gap in the robe.

“Oh, I made a mess and you were so clean.” The devilish look he gave me foreshadowed his next action.

As I savored the delightful taste, he licked the syrup from my chin. He lifted me onto the counter and untied the robe.

“This is in my way.” His tongue made a trail between my breasts, down over my stomach.

I swallowed hard as I looked down at him transfixed on the juncture between my legs.

“A lot of people like syrup with their breakfast. I have a taste for honey.”

Dear God…

Placing a hand on each of my inner thighs, he exposed my core.

“So beautiful. All mine.” He growled as he dipped his head.

It was hard to concentrate once his tongue made contact with my wet flesh. He left no part of me untouched. His art—a symphony of long licks, short flicks, and careful nibbles. He worked me with his tongue, coaxing me closer to the edge with each stroke.

I moaned and gripped his hair. No one had ever done this to me, and in many ways it seemed even more intimate than the love we made the night before. I watched as his head bobbed and danced between my widespread legs. Teasing back and forth, up and down, along my swollen folds. The rhythm of his strokes drove me closer to the precipice, but before the final fall, he stopped and stared up at me while I panted. He gave a wicked smile and resumed his orchestration. Continuing his masterpiece, he slid his tongue slowly from top to bottom, stopping to lap at my entrance. When his tongue entered me, my back arched and I gripped the counter for balance. With syncopated strokes he made love to me with his mouth.

With one long lick across my nub he looked up into my eyes and I was lost. It was Cyril, not some stranger, and not just a physical act. What I felt for him was so much more than sexual.

His fingers breached my entrance. I threw my head back and pulled hard on his hair as the pleasure coursed through me. My muscles squeezed his fingers as they fought to hold on to the moment. My legs went rigid and a feral sound, something between a groan and a scream, left my mouth. I expected him to stop as my outcry turned to pants but he continued to lap, consuming as much of the liquid pleasure my body would give.