LYRA
07.18.15
“This probably isn’t the best time to have a talk about condoms, huh?”
Tavian hovers over me in all his naked glory as sweat glistens on his well-defined six-pack and his broad chest heaves from the aftershocks of his mind-blowing orgasm. Well, I’m not sure if his mind was blown when he roared my name and emptied himself inside me just moments ago, but mine sure the hell was.
The moment I opened my apartment door and saw him and that damn chin dimple that slays my lady parts, standing on my welcome mat, I launched myself at him at the same time he reached for me, and we haven’t separated from each other since. A hungry kiss swiftly escalated into the pulling and tugging of buttons and zippers, and within minutes, our hot flesh melded together without a single thread of barrier between us, as we lay horizontal on my mattress with a trail of discarded clothes scattered across the loft’s floor.
I was wet and ready for him when he thrust inside me unapologetically, almost as if he was punishing me for our separation last night. Or maybe he was punishing himself. I’m not sure, but either way, my body responded intuitively to his demands, submitting to and reveling in his persuasive touch. With each relentless drive of his hips, Tavian claimed ownership to a piece of me until he possessed me body and soul.
When he lifted my legs up on his shoulders and sunk deeper inside me than he ever had before, I screamed to the stars and exploded without warning. My nails dug into his taut biceps as I clamped down on his steel shaft, and mere seconds later, he tensed up and joined me in the free-fall of ecstasy.
And then I ruined the moment with the ridiculous question about condoms. The first words I’d actually said to him since his surprise arrival. I giggle at the realization, thinking to myself I should work on my greeting skills.
Tavian’s lips curl into a teasing grin as he lowers himself to his elbows, his forearms caging in either side of my head on the pillow, his cock staying buried deep in my wetness. “You think that’s funny, Buttercup? Asking me about using condoms while my cum is still hot inside you?”
My walls clench around him at the sound of his dirty mouth and his shaft jerks and swells in response. I force myself to ignore the intensifying ache between my legs and shake my head with a lazy smile.
“No,” I chuckle, “I think it’s funny that I didn’t bother to say hello when I opened the door, or ask why you’re here, or question how you even have my address, before stripping naked and jumping in bed with you. And then asking about condoms while your… well, you know what you said.”
Embarrassment burns my cheeks when I trip over the filthy words he used. I’ve never thought of myself as a prude. I read enough books—both fiction and nonfiction—to understand the importance of an open mind when it comes to sexuality. But I’ve never said things like this aloud before, and there’s something shamefully arousing to vocalize it.
“You’re way too fucking sweet for me, you know that? But I’m not ever letting you go.” He kisses the tip of my nose while brushing back the stray hairs stuck on my forehead, and then he rolls us both over until we’re on our sides facing each other, our intimate connection never breaking. His numbers are so faint behind the passion that burns in his eyes I look right past them.
“And you’re right,” he adds, slowly starting to slide in and out of my slick entrance, “we should’ve talked about protection before we ever did anything. But that night in our house in the mountain… I couldn’t deny myself another fucking minute. I had to know what your kind of perfection felt like—skin on skin. You’re the only person I’ve ever taken bare. She… she didn’t… it doesn’t fucking matter. She doesn’t fucking matter.”
I whimper and my eyelids flutter closed, no longer caring what we’re talking about or bothering to wonder why he used condoms with his live-in, long-term girlfriend. I’d asked a question that prompted this conversation—something important, I think—but suddenly, nothing is more important than seeing how fast and tight Tavian can wind me up just to watch me unravel out of control again.
“Are you on the pill?” He grabs my hip and firmly anchors me to the mattress as he pulls almost all the way out before gliding back in. “Been tested recently?”
I open my eyes and swallow hard. Processing thoughts and forming words are nearly impossible while he’s doing this voodoo body magic, making me crave him more and more. “IUD, so no worry there,” I manage to get out between his steady, rhythmic strokes.
He stops abruptly, and a low menacing growl rumbles in his chest as he pins me with his predatory gaze. “And?”
“And”—I lick my lips nervously, losing all hope that we could avoid ever having this line of questioning—“I’ve never had a reason to be tested before.”
His nostrils flare and he squeezes tighter around my hipbone, fingertips biting into the sensitive flesh. “What does that mean, Lyra? Why haven’t you had a reason to? Because you’re like me and have always used a condom before?”
My heart slams against my ribs like a caged bird trying to flee. Part of me thought he knew after the first time we had sex. Not that there was blood or anything, but I assumed he could detect my lack of experience and nervousness. Admitting it to him aloud is somehow different than him figuring it out on his own.
“No,” I breathe with a slight shake of my head. I wiggle my hips and rub my nipples against his chest, an attempt to return his attention to what we were doing, not what we’re discussing.
I mistakenly think I’m victorious when he once again wraps his arms around me and rolls us together, this time to where he’s on his back and I’m straddling his hips, stuffed full of his throbbing erection. Groaning with building frustration, I press down to grind my tiny ball of nerves against his base, desperate for relief, but his arms shoot out and grab hold of my waist, once again restricting my movement.
“Say it,” he commands gruffly. “I’ll let you come as many times as you want if you just fucking say it. I need to hear it from your mouth.”
His promise triggers a fireworks show in my core, and without another thought, I admit the truth to him. “I never had a reason to be tested, because I was a virgin before you.”
“Fuck, you’re killin’ me, baby,” he rasps as he lifts my hips up then slams me back down on his shaft. “You’re all mine. All. Fucking. Mine.” Up, down. “Never gonna be anybody else inside you but me.” Up, down. Up, down. Faster and faster and faster. “Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who owns your tight, sweet little pussy, Lyra.”
“You do, Tavian! You… just you,” I cry, my thighs screaming in protest as I repetitively raise and lower my trembling, wanton frame on top of him, edging toward the cosmic limits of my sanity.
With a savage roar, he flexes his hips upward while simultaneously palming my ass and forcing my body down, and for the second time in the hour he’s been here, he empties himself inside me, marking me as his.
Only his.
Gasping for breath, I collapse forward on top of him, covering his body with mine. His heart pounds against my flushed cheek that’s pressed to his chest, perfectly in sync with my own pulse throbbing in my neck. Neither of us speaks a word; our actions have said everything we need to know.
He’s here. In bed. With me. Naked.
Just like I wanted.
It’s dark and quiet in the loft when I wake up, the only light and sound filtering in through the windows from the bustling city street outside. Tavian’s heavy arm is draped across me, securing me up against his solid body. His warmth penetrates my bare skin, and I decide he’s my new favorite blanket. I don’t want to ever sleep without him.
I have no idea when we passed out, but apparently, we’ve been napping for a while. Though with the combination of jet lag and our bodies still adjusting to the time change, it’s not really a surprise. I could probably close my eyes and sleep straight through to morning, seeing as how my comfort level is off the charts. But my empty stomach rumbles its dissent, reminding me I never ate lunch.
“I’m starving, too. What do you have that we can make?” Tavian garbles groggily into my hair as he cuddles me even closer.
I grin to myself, overwhelmed with contentment I didn’t know existed, and shake my head. “Nothing really to cook, per se, but there’s stuff to make sandwiches and salads.”
“You and the damn salads, woman,” he groans as he flips me onto my back, where we can face each other. “Didn’t you tell me you were going to the store this morning?”
I nod and let out a light chuckle. “Yeah, and I bought things to make sandwiches and salads. Cooking for one sucks, and I’m really not very good at it anyway, so I usually just make something simple or order takeout.”
“Takeout? You mean, have your guy cook for you?” he mocks. His tone is playful, but there’s a hint of jealousy sprinkled in. And much like when we got a bit grumbly and possessive when we went paragliding in Italy, I like how it makes me feel treasured and coveted.
“I thought you were my guy.” I arch a taunting eyebrow at him.
Tavian leans over and claims my mouth with his, our lips becoming more and more familiar with one another. “Damn skippy, I am,” he gruffs as he pulls away. “Put that shit down on your official record, because it ain’t changing. Now let’s get up, get dressed, and go to the store for some real food—none of that rabbit shit—and I’ll show you how your man cooks for you.”
He moves to stand up, but I grab his wrist first, stopping him. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here? I thought you had to get lesson plans ready for Monday.”
“I do,” he smirks, “but you told me to bring your panties back, so here I am. Plus, I thought I could just as easily do what I need to do here with you as I can at my office or my apartment. That is… unless you want me to leave?”
Sitting up, I swiftly shake my head and release my grasp on him. “No, no, of course not. I just… I just don’t know how any of this stuff works. I know you said things are over between you and Annie, and that she’s getting her stuff tomorrow, but it all seems to be happening fast. Not that I mind on my end. I just want to make sure you’re good. That this is what you really want.”
In a nano-second, I’m flat on my back again and Tavian is on top of me, his usually lighthearted gaze dark and passionate. My stomach somersaults and my nipples harden at the intensity radiating from his pores. Who needs food? I’m pretty sure I can live off everything this man has to offer.
“After we eat later, I’m going to tell you exactly what happened with Annie last night,” he rumbles while his thumb brushes tender strokes across my jawline. “You probably aren’t going to like some of it, but you deserve to know the truth, and I refuse to build this relationship on a bed of lies. You can ask me anything you want and I’ll answer it, but after that, I don’t ever want to talk about her again.
“Like I told you before, she and I were over long before I met you. And in the eight-plus years I was with her, never once did she make me feel like I did with you after less than eight days, and we hadn’t even kissed yet. So stop blaming yourself for what happened and stop comparing yourself to her. The fact I jumped on a train and showed up at your door earlier because I can’t fucking stand the thought of being away from you for more than a day should speak volumes of the way I feel. Now, let’s put some clothes on long enough to run down to the store, get us both fed, and put this to bed once and for all. Then I’ll put you to bed the way I know you like it, yeah?”
If I wasn’t sure before that I’m falling in love with this man—this gorgeous, intelligent, fun-loving, extremely attentive dying man—then that little speech was the nail in the coffin. Quite literally, possibly. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to live once he’s gone, but until that day comes, I plan on living a lifetime with him.
I add that to my official record, too.