Chapter Thirty-Five - Evangeline
“Yes,” is the only answer I have for him tonight. I will do anything to keep this man with me right now. I know he’s going to walk out. He always walks out. Leaves me here in this strange bedroom that I now think of as our room alone. And he’s gonna do that again tonight. Maybe forever. Maybe I’ll never truly know him beyond the sex and the words on the page that come after. But right now, it’s enough. More than enough.
He flips me over in such a rough, quick manner, I gasp, fear shooting through my body, but then…
Oh. Jesus.
He’s on top of me. His mouth kissing my back. His leg kicking mine open, spreading me wide to give him access. His hard cock pushes against the curve of my ass, then his hand is there, guiding it between my legs, rubbing the wetness I made for him.
He slips inside me, stretching my pussy open with his wide girth, lowering himself, pushing himself deeper and deeper until he touches something inside me that makes me bite my lip and stifle a scream.
He stops. Waits. Leans his face down into my neck, and whispers, “You OK?” in my ear, his soft breath just a tickle against my skin.
I don’t know why two stupid words in the middle of sex with a stranger mean so much to me. But they are everything.
I swallow down tears and nod my head. “Yes. Don’t stop.”
He goes slow after that. Still pushing himself deep inside me. His hips rocking on my ass cheeks. His arms balancing himself, pushing into the mattress on either side of my head. I can smell him. It’s the smell of snow, and the city, and all the things I’ve been missing these past twelve years.
And even though we’ve been rough with each other all the other nights we’ve been together, we are calm tonight. Like this is more than sex.
I know it’s not true. I know why he’s here. I know what he’s doing. But for some reason it doesn’t matter. He’s still here.
Which is more than I can say for anyone else.
“I want to see you,” I say.
He leans down into me again, his mouth on my neck, kissing and nipping at my earlobe. And maybe that’s all I really want. His consideration as he struggles to deny me so he can keep his secrets.
“I do see you,” I say, coming to a conclusion. “And I don’t need eyes to do it. Because I have your words. And they don’t lie.”
He huffs a breath into the long strands of my hair. A laugh, I realize. But he’s not laughing at me. What I said makes him happy. It’s a happy laugh.
“Come,” he whispers. “Come for me again, Evangeline.”
And when he says my name, I know him.
It excites me. And he begins to move faster now. His grinding more pronounced. His movements more exaggerated. His cock slipping in and out of my slick pussy so easily, he has to thrust it further and further inside me to get the friction he needs.
He fucks me hard enough to push me up the bed, until my head is bumping into the soft upholstered headboard. My palms flatten on the fabric to give him the resistance he needs.
I arch my back, pushing my ass up and into his fast-rocking hips, and when his fingers slide under my body and find the little nub of my clit, electricity shoots up my stomach. He strums me the way you strum an instrument. He plays me. It makes me think of music, and applause, and all the good things that came with being child Evangeline.
His other hand grabs my breast, squeezing so hard I cry out. This time he knows it’s not pain, but pleasure, and he doesn’t stop to ask me if I’m OK.
He just knows.
“I want to come inside you,” he says. “And I don’t care what happens.”
I whine so loud, my yes echoes off the ceiling.
No one in this room gives a good goddamn about consequences.
We come together. For the first time in my life, I come at the same time as the man on top of me. He bites my neck, sticks his fingers in my mouth, pushing them towards the back of my throat. I suck on them, imagining the way I will suck his cock tomorrow night before I let him fuck me. And enjoy wave after wave of climax rushing through my body.
He falls off to the side, breathing hard. Like a man after sex. Something I knew once, but lost. Something I want again, with him.
“X,” I whisper, turning my blind face towards his spent body.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me in close to him, wrapping his arms around my body. “Come here and be still. No talking,” he whispers. “Just be still with me.”
I fall asleep, I guess. Safe in the arms of my stranger. My watcher. My protector. Because that’s what he feels like.
When I wake it’s still dark. The middle of the night, I think. But the little moon nightlight is on and there’s a note on the bedside table.
It says… My name is Ix, not X. Call me Ix from now on.
I smile as I clutch the note in my hand. I have his real name. It’s a weird name, for sure. But it’s not X, and it’s not Stranger, and it’s not Watcher. I look up at the camera. I don’t know if he can see me in the dark, but I can see him. In my mind. In my dreams. In my future.
“Ix,” I say to the camera. “Very nice to meet you.”