His (19 page)

His breath caught in his throat, and I found myself catching my own breath, matching him. He’d closed his eyes, tilting his head back onto the armchair. I let my book drop, watching him move his hand over his long shaft. His thumb flicked the tip at the end of every stroke. His rhythm became mine, and as the pressure grew inside of me, I stopped pretending to read.

My hand moved faster and faster, harder and harder, and I watched him, stroke after stroke, his cock growing harder and bigger in his hand. God, his lips. Those lips, touching me between my legs, his tongue inside of me… I rubbed furiously, trying to get to the point of release. I needed it, needed to get rid of all these thoughts about him.

Then he lifted his head, and his eyes locked onto mine.

My mouth dropped open in shock, my hand still moving as the ache inside me grew insistently. The book lay limp and discarded on the sheets next to me. There was no pretending that I wasn’t looking at him. To my surprise, he licked his lips but said nothing.

I whimpered, my eyes fluttering shut. I needed this. I needed to get rid of this ache. The sunlight in the room shone red through my closed eyelids. I worked my hand against my swollen clit, my fingers tense and hard. Like he had been hard against me. I wanted so desperately to open my eyes, to look at him. My heart was pumping hard, the pressure of my climax rising and rising inside of me.

No.

I rolled over onto my side, trying to get a better angle. My hand was squeezed tight between my thighs, and I rocked against my fingers, trying hard to push myself. My other hand clenched the sheets, my fingers curled into a fist.

“Kitten.”

I opened my eyes to find him standing next to the bed, his hand gripping his cock hard in one fist. His eyes were full of desire. I whimpered. I didn’t want to ask him for anything, didn’t want anything from him. Or did I?

He knelt down on the bed and lay next to me. His eyes asked permission and I granted it. Our faces were so close that we shared a breath, and I was still rocking, rocking against my fingers. I moaned. Every part of me ached for release, but my climax seemed to never want to come.

His free hand came up and covered my clenched fist and I abandoned the sheets for his palm. His fingers twined around mine, his palm hot against my own. The bed moved with his rhythm, now, too, his hand moving as fast as mine down where I dared not look.

At his touch, my body arched hard against the bed. I felt the pressure rise inside my body, come close to bursting. Sweat beaded his dark upper lip. I stared at his face, those dark features, those light eyes, and all the while I rocked in rhythm against my hand, pushing harder, harder—

A look in his eyes. That was what did it. As he stroked himself, I could see the tension in every muscle of his mouth, in every twitch of his eyebrows. It heightened every little bit of arousal in my own body, sending my nerves into a deep shiver whenever he twitched. Then he moaned and his eyes went soft, deep, losing themselves as they stared into my face.

His moan was a low rumble, and I felt the shudder of it send me over the edge. My hips pushed forward and my fingers squeezed and he squeezed back and I came hard, god, so hard, the orgasm bursting forth into a low scream that I buried into the pillow. My fingers pressed deep into me as I shuddered over and over again, my body rippling with relief.

His breath caught, and I looked down to see him grip himself tight and with one thrust end it. He spurted between his fingers, his lips parting in a silent groan of ecstasy, his seed soaking the sheets between us.

Then his head fell back next to mine on the pillow and he gazed into my eyes and I could not look away, the same way a rabbit cannot tear its eyes from the owl hunting it. He licked his lips and I tried to catch my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears.

When I finally looked down, I was still holding his hand.

CHAPTER TWENTY

     Kat    

He let go of my hand and got up first, tucking away his softening cock and zipping his pants back up. I was still shivering from the force of my orgasm.

“Let’s go.”

“Go?” A whisper. I could barely talk.

“Outside. That was the trade, wasn’t it?”

Oh, right. The trade.

“If your legs can work properly, that is.”

“I’m fine.”

I struggled to my feet and followed him shakily downstairs. I’d never masturbated next to someone before. It wasn’t sex - not exactly. It had felt, impossibly,
more
intimate than sex. It had been a release of sorts, but there was no way I could ever have come to such a blindingly strong orgasm on my own.

Everything around me seemed different.

Gav was different, too. When he touched me to guide me through the house the way he normally did, his hand felt gentle on my back, not forceful. I found myself wobbling down the steps and toward the front door, but he had my arm every step of the way, supporting me.

Such a strange intimacy.

We came to the front door. I stopped in my tracks, but he opened the door as nonchalantly as though it was an everyday occurrence. Which, for him, I suppose it was.

“Did you need shoes?”

I had forgotten my feet were bare. I shook my head no. I wanted to get outside. I
needed
to get outside.

“It should be fine,” he said, more to himself than to me. “It’s grassy outside.”

I walked forward past the threshold of the door, my knees trembling. My stomach was tight across my pelvis. Unwilling to believe this was possible, I kept expecting to run into an invisible wall just outside the door. But no, I was out of the house and then he was leading me forward. The wood planks of the front steps were rough under my feet, warm from the afternoon sun.

With my hand on his arm, we walked down the steps and out into the world.

It was spring, and it was a beautiful day outside. I stopped a few feet away from the house, tilting my head back. The sun was so bright that it made my eyes water, and the warmth caressed my skin.

“We’ll go this way,” Gavriel said, motioning towards the woods. “The path is nearly all grass.”

We walked across the driveway toward the pines. Under my toes, the asphalt was dark and hot, and I walked a bit faster to not burn the soles of my feet. I loved the feeling, though, I loved the prickling sensation. A breeze sent goosebumps running along my arms, but then the sun warmed them back up as soon as the wind died down.

Another sharp breeze sent the pines above us shuddering, and pollen rained down, blown sideways by the wind. The sun glittered off of the golden pinpricks, making the air seem like an ethereal galaxy of dust. If I had allergies, I’d be horrified - my old roommate had hated pollen and refused to go outside in the spring. But I was mesmerized.

We walked slowly. The path was only wide enough for one person, and Gav let me walk ahead of him. My eyes darted from one treasure to another. The amber resin glowing like gemstones in the cracks of the pine branches. The bright yellow ovals of fungus growing on logs, their edges wrinkled and neon. I let my hand trail down the rough bark of a redwood, my fingertips touching every crack and crevice. A line of ants curved around the trunk, and as I stopped and watched, I could see the whole tree’s surface
moving
with activity.

At my feet, something moved, and I jumped back, startled, right into Gavriel’s arms. He waited for me to find my balance, then dropped his hands away.

“It’s just a newt.”

“A what?”

Gavriel bent down to pick up the wriggling creature.

“They’re everywhere out here, especially after a rain. Be careful you don’t step on them. They usually don’t start moving until you come too close.”

“He’s a cutie. Hey, cutie.”

“Want to hold him?”

Gav held the newt out to me, daring me with his eyebrows to take it. Boldly, I reached out and he dropped the little animal into my hand.

Immediately it began to wiggle around. I held it in my hand, my thumb pressed lightly on its back to keep it from wriggling out of my grasp. Its skin was nearly translucent, and I could feel its belly rise and fall against my palm. Its little feet were wet against my skin.

“Looks like you found yourself a pet.”

“Slimy,” I said. “Not the best pet to cuddle with.”

“Better than a banana slug.”

I laughed and crouched down, letting the little newt crawl off of my hand. It flopped belly-first into the wet leaves and kept wriggling away.

“Be free, little newt!”

“So much for a pet.”

“He can still be my pet. I’ll come back and bring it some… what do newts eat, anyway?”

“Insects?” Gav shrugged.

“Yuck. Well, never mind that, then.”

We kept walking, me in front. On the sides of the path, I noticed all of the little newts I’d never noticed before. And I was careful not to step on any of them.

It was so weird. I’d spent every day for the past three years walking through the arboretum on my way to work, but I’d never noticed anything about the trees there. Here, though, it was like every new tree had something amazing about it - the curve of the branches, the way the leaves fluttered like clusters of green wings on the ends of their twigs.

I stopped in the middle of a clearing, and Gav’s footsteps stopped behind me. In front of us, a massive redwood stretched up to the sky. I tilted my head back and looked up at the tree. The bark smelled so good, damp and fragrant, and the only sound was the rustle of the pines around us.

Why had I never noticed how beautiful they were before?

I began to cry. I didn’t know why - I wasn’t sad. On the contrary, the huge tree in front of me filled my heart with joy, so much that I felt incapable of holding it all in. I was outside, I was free if only for a moment, and this tree stretched out above me, making the whole world of humans seem utterly ridiculous and insignificant.

Gav didn’t try to comfort me. He didn’t touch me, and we walked in silence the whole way back to the house. I felt so calm, as though nothing mattered, not even the mess I’d created for myself. Nothing mattered, because those trees would keep on growing forever, long after I was dead and gone. They would keep being beautiful.

At the front door, I paused and turned to look back once at the waving pines. He held the door open for me patiently.

I looked up at him. His eyes were calm like the ocean. I didn’t know how to tell him that he’d given me the best present I’d ever received. I didn’t know how to tell him what I’d realized.

Instead, I leaned forward on tiptoe and kissed him gently on the lips.

The first time I’d kissed him, he had kissed me back deeply. This time, though, he let me guide the kiss, and when I stepped back he didn’t press any farther.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and went inside.

     Gav    

What was she doing to me, this girl? I did not know whether to trust her when she kissed me. My plan had been to seduce her, but now that it seemed to be happening I was completely lost. I didn’t like how it made me feel - like I cared whether or not her feelings for me were real.

That night, she made dinner and I poured us both glasses of wine. She smiled brightly and drank, and we talked the way I imagine normal people talk. She asked to go upstairs and read, and I let her go without following her. The kitchen seemed so empty without her there.

Afterward, I went for a walk. Outside, the stars shone. I liked it out here, far away from the city. The bright pinpricks of light were brighter, here. They drove away the shadow.

She had driven away the shadow, too, though. On our walk, I’d seen the world through her eyes, and the shadow hadn’t come back, not even afterward, not until later when I’d left her alone.

No. I couldn’t become dependent on her for that. I had never been dependent on anyone.

But she is yours
, my mind said.
To do with as you want.

The reminder only made the hurt worse. I did not want to force her to love me. Even this deception… it made my stomach twist in a strange way. Whenever people talked about feeling guilty, this was what I imagined they felt. The twisting inside, the tightness in the chest. I had never felt it before, and I did not want to feel it now.

The shadow fluttered at the edges of my mind, but she was more of a distraction to me now.

I went back inside. She was asleep, a book fallen half-finished by her side. I replaced the bookmark and lay down next to her sleeping body. I would not wake her up to tie her wrists to the bedposts. Not tonight. She looked so peaceful.

Maybe in the morning, before I left to go make my visit.

I put an arm around her protectively. To protect her, or to protect me? I did not know the answer to that question anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

     Kat    

Gav was right about one thing - his wine selection was incredible. The Syrah he’d picked out for dinner had paired perfectly with the steak, and I’d drunk two full glasses before I realized it. He only smiled and flooded my glass again, and the smile made my heart skip a beat.

I was sure that he wanted to get me drunk to do… whatever it was he wanted to do to me. But when I’d asked, he let me go back upstairs to read and left me alone for hours. Strange. He was so strange. And the wine had made me so sleepy. I passed out before he came upstairs.

When I woke up the next morning, he was nowhere to be seen. The room was dim; facing west, the sun’s light wouldn’t come in until the afternoon. Only a thin gray light illuminated the walls. And my hands were tied up to the bedposts with the same red rope as before. My ankles were free, though.

My pulse pounded. What had he done to me?

Looking down frantically, I saw that I was dressed the same way I had been last night. My underwear was still on, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t touched me at all.

Why?

Although it should have made me feel better, this realization actually shot panic through my system. It was strange that he had gotten me drunk and then tied me up and then done… nothing. I didn’t know if I’d wanted him to or not. But that he hadn’t bothered to wake me up disturbed me for a reason I couldn’t put my finger on.