The Contradiction of Solitude(35)

Elian Beyer.

That name.

I hated it.

But I couldn’t take it back. It’s who I had become. I couldn’t give her that. Not yet. I wasn’t ready.

“I’m a guy who has had to run far, far away.”

Layna uncurled her legs and leaned forward, her arms braced on her knees, her hands dangling between. She looked at me with an intensity that left me shaking.

Reeling.

“What are you running from?” she whispered. She sounded on edge. Excited even. Was that right?

I frowned, not understanding her reaction. But there was something in her easy acceptance of secrets I couldn’t voice that made me want to unravel everything. To lay it all out at her feet and leave it there for her to pick over like a vulture.

“My parents are dead. My dad, as I told you, died before I left home.” I gripped my hands together hard enough to break bone. I started to lose feeling in my fingers. It kept me grounded. It helped me speak of things that were almost too painful to be real.

“My mother…she passed just a few years ago. I didn’t go home. I couldn’t. I know that makes me a selfish ass, but I hadn’t been back since three years after my sister—” I choked up. I couldn’t finish the sentence.

It was the thing that had dogged my every step. It was the event that had ruined my whole life.

“What happened to your sister?” Layna asked. Her voice was once again soft and even. I closed my eyes and wished she’d just keep talking. It was easier to slit myself open if I could just listen to her speak.

I couldn’t. I wanted to give her the story she asked for—the truth we both craved.

But I couldn’t.

There were some things too dark to see the light.

My hands were shaking and my mouth sealed shut. I couldn’t say anything more.

Then Layna was on her knees in front of me. I hadn’t seen her move. She was suddenly there. Her hand on my thighs, her beautiful, beautiful face turned up. Her coal black eyes that saw more than I wanted her to, piercing, shattering, incinerating holes.

“If the words hurt, then stop. I don’t need to hear them.” She put her hand on my chest, just over my thumping, thumping heart. “You’ll know when you’re ready to cut this out and give it to me. Until then, we’ll wait.”

My god, this woman. The things she did to me. Every inch. Every pump of a willing heart.

“I want to give it to you.” It sounded like a plea.

Layna dug her fingers into skin, protected only by the thin material of my shirt. I wanted to wince at the bite of pain. She pushed. She burrowed. She planted herself in. Roots deep.

“Not yet.”

She rose up on her knees, her fingers still bruising my pliant flesh and she kissed me. Tongues and teeth and blood. Mixed up and falling down.

I wanted skin. Hers. I wanted to touch it and own it.

Mine.

And for that moment.

She belonged only to me.

And the demons that nipped at my heels were kept at bay.

For now.





I woke up to the sound of breathing. Deep sighs made in sleep.

I stared at my bedroom ceiling, unmoving. My naked body pressed against compliant skin and sex soaked sheets.

The darkness rumbled in the farthest recesses of my heart and I held it close. I knew what it wanted.

I rolled onto my side and tucked my hand beneath my cheek. It was daylight. Nighttime was hours away. Yet here we were. Supine in the aftermath of momentary bliss.

I longed to be touched. Held. By Elian.

Sweet, trusting Elian.

Loving, unconditional Elian.

Because I knew at the end of it all, these hours of hot words and liquid fire would have to sustain me. It would be all that I had.

His lovely face was lined with worries that weighed on him. His tears had long since dried and his merciless grip had slackened and fallen away.

He breathed. His heart continued to beat. His dancing green eyes fluttered madly behind closed lids in his dreams.

I wondered what he saw when he fell asleep? Were his nightmares as beautiful as mine?

I placed my hand on his chest. Thud. Thud. Thud. Small red imprints on his skin. Half moon divots from my nails. Perfect tattoos on smooth, unblemished skin.

Elian groaned, as though my touch hurt. I pressed harder, watching him begin to squirm. Moving away from my hand, trying to run.

Far, far away.

But he couldn’t run.

He had nowhere to go.

He would soon realize that I was all he had.

He rolled onto his front, the blanket falling to his lower back. I froze.

In our rush to be together I hadn’t taken any notice of what he hid away underneath his clothes.

Buzz…

He was here. With us. Always with me. I delighted in it. I was revolted by it.

I felt like I was turning inside out.

I wanted to taste it. The piece of my history branded on Elian’s skin. The symbol of all my love. All my pain.

On this man’s skin.

Mine.

I leaned over, my hair brushing his soft, soft back. Elian shuddered, curling in on himself.

No!

I flattened my hands on his quivering body and he stilled. Unmoving. Breathing. Beating heart.

I traced the lines of the magnificent star with my tongue. Clear, wet possession. Up. Down. Side to side. Round and round I went.