Beautiful Oblivion

by Addison Moore

  “Sometimes you have to take what God gives you,” I say, picking up Skyla’s hand and heading for the stairwell.

  Skyla swats me over the chest. “You so did not just go there. Remind me to beat some manners into you later.”

  “As you wish.” I glide Skyla up the stairs just as a dozen young men in black coats clog up the entryway.

  “Looks like the Counts are here.” She settles her eyes over them as if she were readying to take them on right this very minute.

  “Let them have their fun. We’ll deal with them in the morning.” I curl a finger under her chin. “I believe I’ve a lesson to teach you.”

  She looks up with a coy smile, her teeth grazing over her lip. “You always were my favorite teacher.”

  I take Skyla by the hand and lead the way down a darkened hallway.

  “Third door on the left.” I speed us inside to a candlelit room that smells of soot and sweat, and the remnants of someone else’s lovemaking. “Now what were we discussing?”

  Skyla gives a bubbling laugh as she saunters across the room. She gives the bedding a good slap, only to have a plume of dust rise in her wake.

  “Gross.” She fans the air and chokes into her shoulder. “Nothing says bed bugs for one and all like the seventeenth century.”

  “Come here, I’ll protect you from unwanted pestilence.” I take a careful step toward her, and she retracts with a devilish gleam in her eye. She’s never been one to make things easy. “I’ll bathe you with such affection, all thoughts of parasites and disease will be put to pasture.”

  “Love in the age of cholera?” She averts her eyes looking every bit the schoolgirl even if she is old enough to be her own mother at this point. “Sounds scary.”

  “Frightening you is on the agenda, among other emotions I plan to evoke.”

  She pitches her head back and swallows a laugh. Skyla is a thing of beauty, a creature of sublime nature and matter, and I do come close to worshiping her.

  “I’m always a little frightened around you.” She bats her lashes and struts forward, her flesh rippling from her corset. “Isn’t that the plan? Scare the hell out of me by way of your—”

  “Dignity, Skyla”

  “I left it on Paragon.” She shoots me a dark look that lets me know we’re pushing it. I’d better reel it in before she evaporates. Skyla is wanting, and here we are, ready to devour one another for the very first time.

  “Are you going to make love to me sweetly?” She traces a finger over the end table and inspects it for dust. She’s back to her playful self with that wicked grin licking at her lips.

  “I’ll leave that to Jock Strap.”

  “Oh?” She wraps a hand around the bedpost and swings wide into the room. “Are you going to take me roughly?” She’s teasing, caustic and cutting with her remark.

  “I gather that’s The Pretty One’s specialty.”

  Her chest pumps with a laugh, but she won’t give it. Her eyes narrow in on mine with a threat because I happen to know both Olivers are a forbidden topic.

  “You went there.” She shakes her head, incredulous. “You know they’re off limits to you.”

  “You flooded our existence with them for the first half of our time together, I figure I’ll take up the slack and bombard the second half with the same refrain.”

  She wrinkles her nose, and I can see the youth return to her eyes. “You never play fair.”

  “Neither do you.” I pull a ladder back chair from the desk in the corner and take a seat. “Come.” I reel her in and land her over my lap lengthwise, with her face toward the floor, her perfect bottom under my chin. “Rumor has it I owe you a punishment.” I lift the back of her skirt until it spills out into the room.

  Her chest vibrates over my legs as she bites back a smile.

  “What is it exactly that you find so humorous?” I trace my hand up her thigh to the garter she’s anchored her stockings to and slip a finger under the lace thong she’s paired it with. “Something old with something new I see.”

  “Are you kidding?” She looks up. Her cheeks already pink with pleasure. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in those granny panties they stuffed themselves in. Sometimes the twenty-first century just knows better—heck, all the time.”

  She goes on and on, but it all fades to nothing as my mind focuses in on her creamy skin. Her perfect round curves rise over me while her hips inadvertently grind into my thighs. I bring my palm down over her bottom like the cracking of a whip.

  “You hit me.” She stiffens for a moment before straightening to get a better look at me. “You bastard.”

  My lids hood low with wicked intent, and my muscles shake to have her. “You were begging for it.”

  “In your twisted dreams.” She rights herself until she’s straddling me, face to face, her tiny waist tucked against mine.

  “Hello, Ms. Messenger.” I hitch her panties to the side with a flick of the wrist, and my fingers glide in slow over that heated slick tucked between her thighs.

  Skyla sucks in a breath and closes her eyes a moment. “Are you sure this is legal in our light drives?” A vision of her biological mother pops into her mind. “Technically—”

  I seal her lips with mine and swipe my tongue over hers until she moans into me. The last thing I want is for this to turn into a morals evaluation—God forbid her toxic shrew of a mother invade her thoughts once again.

  Skyla comes at me hungry and needy, her kisses outweighing any protest that might crop up. I can’t say I’m not pleasantly surprised because I have every intention of being her one and only focal point this evening.

  I run my fingers over her hot moist flesh and touch my thumb to her pleasure point until she bucks beneath me.

  “God.” She grips my head and pushes it into her chest, as I oblige the sweet flesh of her breast with the tongue-lashing she so deserves. “You feel like a freaking tuning fork.”

  “Good vibrations?” I pull down her corset and unleash the ladies in waiting until I’ve all but devoured one with my lips. Her soft flesh molds to me, and I fit all she can give me into my mouth at once. There she is—where she belongs, rolling around my tongue, writhing over my hand, wet with her affection for me.

  “God, yes,” she pants. “Good, good, good vibrations.”

  My fingers travel down just shy of entering her, and she lets out a quickened gasp.

  “Yes, that. Do that.” She coils her fingers through my hair and gives a hard pull until I give a playful bite to her nipple, and she relents.

  “What is it you want me to do?” I string kisses up her neck, and she chokes out a breath as I turn up the volume on the feel-good vibes my body is sending hers.

  She lets out a fierce groan and grinds her hips over my hand. Her frustration quickly becomes my pleasure.

  “Touch me.” She gives a soft bounce with her eyelids trembling, a heated breath raking from her mouth.

  “Touch you, where?” I whisper into her ear, and she gives a hard shudder.

  “Right there.” She creates a circle over my hips, and my Sector glory rises high to meet her. “Yes, that.” Skyla leans back with a sleepy look in her eye, a smile quivering on her lips. “Put that in me, and we’ll call it a day.” She swallows hard as I try not to laugh.

  “Call it a day? I’m less than amused at your abruptness to be rid of me.” I give her breast a gentle bite and rise to meet her gaze once again. Skyla is a seductress of the highest order. Her panting alone is enough to satisfy me. “Sounds like you’ve already had about all you can take.” I try to remove my hand, but she’s quick to restrain my effort.

  “Marshall, no,” she moans out the words. “No games.” She gives several blinks struggling to keep her eyes on mine. “I want this.” She places my hand where it was moments before and gently rocks back and forth over it. “Please.”

  A coy smile teases on my lips, but I’m far from giving in. This has been years in the making, a lifetime—six millenniums to be exact.

&n
bsp; Then something in me cinches, and I give. I’ll give Skyla whatever she demands, whenever, however, so long as it meets her insatiable needs. Something tells me the retrograde project was as much as gift to me as it was to the Celestra people. Of course, I’ll be the last to fill Skyla in on that detail.

  My fingers move in rhythm to her hips, rubbing up and down in long, easy strokes. She leans into my shoulder and bites down over me as if to savor the agony.

  “You like this don’t you?” I touch my finger to the rim of her womanhood and pull back just enough to tantalize her with the prospect.

  Skyla gives a guttural cry of disappointment. Our eyes lock immovable. It was all happening now. Here we are ready to cross that bridge and see exactly what lies on the other side of the carnal curtains for us.

  “I’m going to penetrate you, Skyla.” I give a ghost of a smile.

  Her eyes close briefly as if she were faint. “Marshall,” she pants, clawing at my chest.

  “Like this?” I slip a finger slow inside her, and she lets out a heated scream. “Deeper still?” I push in hard until I’m limited by her body. Her chest loosens into me, her heart rages against mine for more.

  She looks up, those clear eyes, glazed, unrecognizable. “Is that all you’ve got?”

  A laugh thumps through me, but I don’t break a smile.

  “You want it all, don’t you?”

  “I was promised a proper punishment. Wasn’t I?” She knifes it out like a threat, and I dip another finger into her, quick and forceful.

  She lurches forward and takes a breath.

  “Really?” She lifts her chin, her eyes still locked with a challenge. “Is that the best you can do?”

  “You little wench.” I withdraw my hand and unbuckle my belt, releasing myself from my trousers. I hold myself out between us, erect and daunting—if it’s a punishment she wants, she’ll more than get it here. “I think this fits the bill.”

  “Good God, I don’t think that fits anywhere.” A brief look of terror crosses her features.

  “You know what they say.” I pick her up by the waist and land her gently over me. “You play with the bull, you get the horn.”

  “Marshall, wait.” She grips me by the shoulders just as the tip of my erection finds that warm home it’s been begging to take refuge in for so long.

  “What’s that?” I can hardly get the words out. If she doesn’t want this, then it’s done, we won’t do it. I’ll wait until the future, a very long dry season will ensue, but, nevertheless, I’ll wait for Skyla.

  She grips my face in her hands and pulls me toward her. “I want to say, I love you.”

  “You love me?”

  “I’ve always loved you.” Somewhere in my heart, Marshall, you’ve always had a home.

  She nods into me as she waits for the reciprocation.

  I don’t say those words often. Humans abuse those three little words—I find the phrase borders offensive on occasion, especially since the sentiment has become so lax.

  “I know.” I close my eyes and press her over me.

  “Wait.” She seizes her tiny hands over my shoulders once again.

  “Dear God, woman, are you not aware of what’s happening? What?” I bark it out harsher than intended.

  “What do you mean, you know?”

  “I know that you love me,” I say it slow and measured, my temper rising along with my testosterone.

  Her eyes steady over mine like a dare. “Don’t you have something you want to say in return?”

  She’s testing me, and, strangely, it only intensifies the surge of pleasure pulsating through my body.

  “There is something I want to say in return.” I drill my gaze into hers unrelenting. “Do you want this slow or fast?”

  “Oh, fuck.” She snaps her head back in frustration.

  “Yes, that.” I dig my fingers into her hips as I try to sink her over me, and she locks her elbows, restraining the effort once again. I try to press on, but she’s impossible to move. “Are you using your Celestra strength against me?”

  “Are you using your Sector Stupidity against me?” She grips me by the collar and pulls me in with violent intent. “Say the words I want to hear, Dudley, and be done with it.”

  My lips twitch—anger—joy—it can go either way right now. “You do realize I’m about to fill you with all of my glory—that the size of my celebrity is going to astound you to the point of screaming hysterics.” I pull her in until we’re nose to nose as I try not to let my temper get away from me. “You, my love, are about to take a seat on the throne of pleasure like you have never known before.” My jaw grinds as I dig my fingers into her waist in lieu of shaking her. “So might I advise you, Ms. Messenger, to sit back, enjoy the ride, and if I’m so moved to inform you of how I feel, trust me to do so.”

  Her thighs quake, her stomach quivers.

  Her pale aqua marine eyes drill into mine. “Say it.” She spits it out with venom.

  “I”—I sink her over me another inch and her mouth opens, a cry strangles from her throat—“love”—I plunge her lower still another inch, then progressively lower ignoring her menial resistance—“to infuriate you.”

  Her eyes open wide. A fresh rage brews in them.

  “Because I love you.” A simple smile glides up my cheek then slopes right off. “Now—you never answered my question.” My fingers dig into her soft hips as I continue to press her over me, filling her slowly as her eyes roll to the back of her head.

  Her neck arches as she expires a breath into the dusty room.

  “I can’t hear you.” I sink her lower, and she gives a little cry. “Almost there, Ms. Messenger. Now which is it, slow or fast?”

  She comes to for a moment out of her sexual stupor, her blonde mane spilling around her face as she rocks her neck from side to side. Skyla is a sensual goddess, a vixen of desire—all without trying. It’s the sweetest part of her that envelops me, her utter innocence with just a touch of that barbed tongue that matches me stride for stride. And now I’m in her, and never before in my entire existence have I ever felt so complete.

  She runs a finger down the side of my face. “Is this a pop quiz, Mr. Dudley?”

  A dry laugh thumps through me.

  “I heard hard.” My lip curls with the dare.

  “That wasn’t an option.”

  “It is now.”

  She glowers into me never breaking my gaze.

  Skyla eases over me the rest of the way, and my head knocks back as I take in a measured breath. It’s heaven like this with Skyla, her sex clenching over mine, strangling me with her tight body.

  Her body quakes as I secure my hands over her hips, plunging her over me again and again. Her hips rotate over mine as she rolls her neck over her shoulders letting out one glorious moan after the other. I bring my finger down over her, and her nails claw into my arms, encouraging me as she stiffens. Her lips quiver as she struggles to formulate the words on her mouth.

  “Right there.” She pulls my face to hers, and I land a wet kiss to her lips for a moment. My body shakes, and she continues to ride me, pumping fast and hard as I plunge into her. My finger moves over her at a quickened pace, and she lands her hot mouth over my ear, panting, hardly able to hold out a minute more.

  “Take it, right now, Skyla.” I press a series of hard circles over that tender part of her. “Catch it,” I bark it out like a command, and she shudders in a series of spasms as I release all of my affection into her. I hold her down, hard over my waist, with enough strength to snap the bones in both our bodies as I let out a roar that vibrates through the building.

  “Skyla—I love you.” I touch my lips to hers and taste the salt in her tears. I pull back, panting, as I inspect her beautiful face slicked with tracks that stream from her eyes. Dear God, if she regrets this I’ll hate myself. “Did I hurt you?” I mean that in the emotional sense as well, but I take it she knows.

  She shakes her head. “You made me happy.” She looks up a
t me from under her lashes, and a fire heats my belly just like the first time we met—the night we shared a kiss in the deep end of the Pacific.

  “You make me happy, Skyla.” I cup her face in my hand. “And I love you higher than the heavens and deeper than the sea.”

  She leans in and buries her tongue in my mouth until I’m moving below her again, rousing to life under her willful command.

  “Smoking.” She pulls back barely breathing, her eyes heavy with lust.

  “We were smoking, weren’t we?”

  She blinks to life, a renewed sense of panic rife on her face. “I mean the room is smoking.”

  I take a deep breath, and the scent of fresh soot infiltrates my nostrils. A grey plume curls in from the under the door.

  “Oh, shit.” She jumps off and bunches her dress with her fists. “The Counts.”

  I pull myself together and rise beside her. “Looks like they’re ready to play. Are you ready, love?”

  “With you by my side?” A small dimple presses over her cheek. “Always.”

  I pull her into a kiss as the room billows with a necrotic white cloud.

  “Next time”—I brush my lips over hers once more—“we take it slow and easy. I’m going to make love to you.”

  “In a bed?”

  “Let’s not get carried away.” I open the door, and the handle scalds through to my bones. “I say we try the barn.”

  “I’ll bring the champagne.”

  “I’ll bring the whip.”

  A slew of screams echo through the inferno-filled structure.

  “The Counts await,” I hold out my hand.

  The fire reflects in her eyes as she steps boldly toward the flames like she did once so long ago.

  She gives a little laugh. “They will never know what hit them.”

  “Time is running out, Skyla.”

  “It never was my friend.”

  Skyla and I herd the women to safety. She gathers a handful of Counts and locks them in the basement only to have them break their way out before death arrives.

  We watch safe from a distant hillside as the structure burns to a glowing pile of lumber while men transfer buckets amongst themselves like a keystone comedy.