One More Breath

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One More Breath Page 4

by Delaney Williams


  “Anyway, they had a pool in the backyard. It was a small thing, really more like a wading pond than a pool, and not very deep. Times were different then, and it had no fence around it. One day, while playing hide-and-seek, grandpa was supposed to find us. I hid in the laundry machine, while Adra hid in the shed by the pool. Grandpa was taking forever and I guess Adra got hot, and decided to give up the game and go for a swim. We were four-years-old. Apparently, she got tired of swimming and no one was there to help. Adra drowned because I refused to give up and lose the game. I hid for four hours that day. I only came out when I heard the screaming and someone finally thought to come and find me. Apparently, grandpa had fallen asleep in his chair. Adra had died because of me. I will never allow that to happen again. The shield reminds me why I will always be on guard. The swords are bloody because I failed. I will not fail again.”

  I stopped, wiping the tears that had managed to escape from my eyes. I look up, expecting to see abhorrence or pity, but neither is there. Leire wipes my cheeks gently, holding my face in her soft hands until I have myself somewhat together. For the first time in a long time, I feel together. The restaurant has closed, my girl doesn’t blame or hate me, and I feel peace. Leire takes my hand and holds it to her heart, saying nothing, giving everything. Once in a while, she murmurs terms that have no sense and I can only assume they are Gaelic. I hear her whisper it wasn’t my fault. That I was a child, playing a simple child’s game. There is no pity in her voice, only the hope that I will eventually be able to move on. She says Adra would want me to be more, to enjoy more out of life, not live in fear of loving and losing.

  When she says that, a look comes over her, like she is hearing those words for the first time. “Ni mar a shiltear a bhiteir. Things are not always what they seem, Ander. It is time to move on.”

  Then I feel it. Lighter, like my sister has found peace and has finally moved on. I realize I should, too. So now, more than anything, I want to take my girl home and love her. She belongs with me. I know it in my bones. This woman is mine. She was made for me. She pleases me in every way. She. Is. Mine. Tonight, I am going to prove it.

  I take her hand and lead her back to the bike, fastening the helmet for her and hurry to get us on the road. She doesn’t question where we are going, even though she has to have noticed that we are not returning to the shop. When we reach the front door of my place, I hardly have her inside before I push her up against the wall, my tongue in her mouth, kissing her as if I need her to breathe. There is no hesitation. “I need you,” I whisper into her ear, and she moans. “I need you, mire bizitza, my life. You are my heaven. You gave me peace when none was to be had. My heaven, nire zeniko.” I am so out of control, I am flipping between languages. I need to get the control back.

  I flip her around to face the wall, being careful of the new tattoo, and place her arms above her head. “Here. They stay here or this all stops.”

  I bend and begin lifting the light dress she had worn, running my hands gently up her legs as I pull the dress up. My nose follows close behind. I cannot get enough of her smell. She is my own brand of aphrodisiac. I continue raising the dress to her hips, as she writhes against the wall. When I have it completely bunched at her waist, I stop to simply breathe in all that is Leire. Nuzzling her gently from behind, I whisper, “Take the dress off.”

  She swiftly lifts it over her head and tosses in on my hall floor, leaving her in simple white cotton panties and bra. They are surely nothing meant to entice a man but, I swear, I have never seen anything sexier. She shyly stands there, naked, while I remain dressed. “See that bench over there.” I point. She nods. “Go to it and bend over it.”

  She moves, slow and sexy. I stand behind her and simply admire her perfect ass and legs. “Damn…” She looks over her shoulder and fucking winks at me. Vixen. When she reaches the bench, she stops before bending over it. “Stand still and turn around, slowly. I want to see all of you,” I command. She does exactly that, the good girl that she is. She turns slowly, teasing me with every step until she can bend over the bench again. I step over to where she is waiting.

  When I reach her, I take both her hands in mine and place them at my neck. She pulls my shirt off in one swift move and takes a huge breath. “You are beautiful, Ander.”

  I move her hands to my waist. “Now my pants.”

  Her hands are shaking, trembling in mine. She doesn’t realize I have been taken by her as much as she by me. I help her unbutton my jeans and push them down, leaving me in my boxers, my cock finally able to breathe. She moves to take those off, too, but I stop her. “Give me your hands.”

  I place two of her fingers in my mouth, sucking them, getting them wet before placing them on her clit and moving them in small circles. She is going to come soon and it is going to be one of the most precious things I can ever hope to see. She rubs her clit for me while I watch, fascinated by the look of pure pleasure on her face.

  I reach down and remove her hand, causing her to moan unhappily. I smile and slip her fingers into my mouth, needing to taste her. “Now, bend over.”

  LEIRE

  I bend over the bench, pushing my ass up as high in the air as I can. His hands tease the waist of my plain white underwear and he slowly works them down my legs, lifting each foot and placing a kiss on it before setting it back down as he removed my panties. Then he kisses my legs on his way back up. He licks and sucks, marking me, making me his. This is not sex. This is something else entirely. Something I am afraid to give words to. When he reached the apex of my thighs, he presses my legs further apart and glides his nose along my slit. “Hmm… You smell delectable. What do you want me to do, Leire?” he asks. “Shall I taste you here?”

  He closes his mouth around my clit and bites lightly, causing me to scream. Then, like that first taste awakened something, he attacks. There is no other word for it. The man feasts like he will die without my taste in his mouth. His mouth on me, his fingers inside of me… I lose track of how many orgasms he’s given me before I finally manage to get my hand on him and pull him up. His face is wet with my juices and I want to taste them. I kiss him all over, licking my flavor off his face, causing him to smile. I kind of like the way I taste, but maybe it is because I taste our combined flavors.

  “My turn,” I say, kneeling down. I am not a virgin, but I am also not very experienced in the area of oral pleasure. I hope that my want to do this makes up for my lack of skills. Plus, I had read several erotic novels and I really want to try some of that stuff out.

  I pull his boxers down and he steps out of them, his eyes never leaving mine. He growls, “You look so fucking perfect on your knees for me.”

  I lick the bead of pre-cum off the head of his cock. It lights up my taste buds, and I am suddenly voracious for him. I slowly lick him, running my tongue along the big veins and piercings, before I fully engulf him. That’s one benefit of illness. I’ve taken so many huge pills, I have no gag reflex. All nine or ten inches of him, I am seriously going to make him measure later, are in my mouth and I suck deep. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and his fingers find their way into my hair. “Goddamn…”

  He seems reduced to simple phrases so I am guessing I am on the right track, until he suddenly jerks me to my feet and flips me around. He bends me over the bench and grabs his jeans, pulling out a condom, and sheathing himself. He wraps his arms around me from behind, just like my phoenix…except his arms are warm, strong, and comforting. The feel of his body against mine just makes me that much more desperate. He bends me over further, making my ass stick up as high as possible. I feel him palm his cock and slide it up and down from my ass to my clit, spreading my wetness. I moan and arch, trying to force him into me.

  “Hmmmm… You want this?” he asks as he penetrates me with just the tip of his shaft, causing me to moan.

  After stimulating my clit a few more times with his cock, he finally enters me. He is not slow, entering me in one swift movement that causes me to slam forward a
nd move the bench a fraction. I can feel him all over me, consuming me. Then he bites my neck, and I lose it. My body shudders, and I clench around his perfect cock.

  He, however, is far from done, reaching around and adding a thumb to my clit and lighting me up all over again. I am a moaning wreck. “God, keep doing that. Whatever you are doing, keep doing it,” he moans. But I have no clue what I am doing. “Your clenching is driving me insane,” he growls, pounding into me three more times before groaning into my neck, my hair wrapped around his fist. With a few more uneven thrusts, I feel his body seize up and he goes silent and stiff. I can feel his cock swelling and twitching, as well as the heat from his come.

  We slump to the bench, both completely uncaring of the mess and just trying to breathe. After some time, Ander gets up and goes into the bathroom to dispose of the condom, returning to scoop me up and carry me to his room, placing me gently in his bed. He turns the lights off and I feel him crawl in bed and pull me into him. His nose settles into my neck, like he seems to like to do, and we fall asleep.

  ****

  At some point in the night, I wake and find myself staring at Ander’s chest. Wow. The time and dedication that had gone into the art on him is indescribable. And his form is something I’ve only read about in books. He just can’t be real. His ridges, hard edges, and lean muscle is beautiful. And all of it leads to that deep V and trail of soft hair leading to my target. I lightly run my hand down his stomach, stopping at the top of his penis. Down and back until he is writhing in his sleep. “Leire,” he whispers. He is dreaming of me. Of all the amazing women in this world, he is dreaming of sex with me.

  I grab his cock and tug gently. Not enough to awaken him, but enough to get him more active in this dream. I want to see if I can get him to say anything else. Apparently, the male penis, when fully erect, takes all the blood from the head and leaves them unable to talk. He is just moaning now. I scoot down the bed so I can move more easily and take him into my mouth, tasting him, nuzzling my nose into his balls and smelling him. He smells like sex, like us. It is a wonderful smell. I suck hard and lick him up and down, wondering how long until he wakes up. Then I feel his hand grasp my hair and pull, hard. I like it. I look up, letting him out of my mouth with a small pop.

  “What do you think you are doing, Leire?”

  “Um… Pleasing you?” I tentatively ask.

  “Pleasing me?” he smirks. “I like the sound of that. I like that you like pleasing me. Now, lie on your back, I will be careful of the tattoo, and spread your legs wide. That will please me greatly.”

  This man could ask me to do anything and I am pretty sure I would do it. I roll off him and onto my back, spreading my legs, feeling more open and exposed than I ever had. He gets up and goes into his closet, returning with two pieces of soft red rope. He grasps one ankle, quickly securing it to the bed. When he ties the other leg to the other side of the bed, I am spread for him. He stands back to admire his handiwork. “You are beautiful, all tied up just for me. Just knowing you are mine makes me weak. I have never been weak. I strive with everything I am not to be weak. So, for this, you will pay. I can’t be weak. You are mine, and I am yours. But I have the control, yes?” I nod. I know he is struggling with his sister’s death, and it’s hard for him to let someone else close enough they can hurt him. Why he had chosen someone who has the highest likelihood of hurting him says a lot about how strongly he feels for me.

  He nods, seeing my understanding. Then he bends and starts nipping at my toes, sucking and biting each one. Holy shit. How did I feel that all the way up here? I groan. He continues his soft assault up my legs until he comes to the juncture he seems intent to enjoy again. He lifts my butt slightly and licks. He continues for so long, I am a mess, trying to close my legs to gain some composure. Then he adds two fingers, curving them up slightly, searching for a moment. He licks and fucks me with his fingers, but I can do nothing tied to the bed. I writhe and moan, but then it feels like I have to pee. I scream and yell for him to stop, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Suddenly, I explode.

  After I come down from my high, he looks up at me with a wicked grin. “That, babe, was the single most amazing moment ever. I could live off your come. You covered me. I am a hell of a lucky man.”

  I did that? I thought that was an urban legend or something. Wow. I am still primed as he stalks up my body, kissing and nipping, being careful to never place any weight on me or the tattoo. He never kisses the new ink, but manages to cover all the ground around it. I am lost.

  ANDER

  This woman is going to kill me with her sounds and taste alone. I am being very careful to put none of my weight upon her, as that new tattoo has to be hurting, but I need more. We have already had sex once tonight and I still feel like a teenager raring to go. I groan, sucking one light pink nipple into my mouth and drawing on it, hard. My girl, it seems, has a thing for a little pain with her pleasure, which doesn’t really surprise me after her reaction to the hours spent tattooing. A deep moan comes from her mouth. She is still tied to the bed, writhing beneath me. I run my hand gently along her face. “So dang amazing and you are mine.” I place my thumb in her mouth. “Suck,” I order, and she does. “Harder, like you want to take me in.”

  While she sucks my thumb, I move to her other breast, licking and sucking, plumping and pulling. Her fingers are digging into my hair, tugging. “Do you need something, sweetheart?” I ask with a grin. She groans. “I didn’t hear that. Do. You. Need. Something?”

  “You!”

  “Me? Where? What do you want me to do, Leire? I need to hear it.”

  “I need you inside me.”

  “I can do that.”

  I reach into the nightstand for another condom, wishing we could get rid of the fuckers, and sheath myself. I am only in her for an instant before she comes. Fuck. She is going to set me off just with her muscles pulsing around me. Three pumps is all it takes until I lose it, too.

  Still in my haze of orgasm, I remember to remove the condom and ropes before collapsing next to her. She snuggles into my side and sighs in contentment. “What do you need to do in the morning?” I ask.

  She looks at me shyly. “I’m a professor. My first class is at two, but I have office hours in the morning. I can always get my TA to do those for me, even though she will probably find some way to take it out on me later.” She giggles. She is a professor? What in the fuck is an educated woman doing with me? She rolls on top of me, seeming to read my mind. “Stop it. I like you. You could be a heart surgeon or a garbage collector and I would still be with you.” She kisses my forehead, rolling off of me and settling next to me again before drifting off to sleep.

  ****

  When I wake up, it is late morning. Slowly, so as not to disturb her, I get up and start coffee. I was raised in the kitchen at the restaurant and can cook with the best of them so, determined to treat her, I start making her Basque eggs. As I am chopping peppers and onions¸ and watching the water for poaching the eggs, I hear her approach from behind me. “What have you started, Ander? Are you spoiling me with breakfast just to get me to stay, then make me cereal tomorrow?” she teases.

  I turn around and push her into the counter for a kiss. “Never. Now, how do you want your coffee?”

  “With more cream and sugar than coffee. I like things sweet.” She winks, causing me to harden. I had her four times in less than twenty-four hours, but it seems like I can’t get enough.

  “When do you need to go in?” She tells me about noon so she can get some hours done. Nodding, I toss the veggies in with the meat and garlic, then turn down the water to poach the eggs. Turning back to her, I say, “This is how this is going to go. I am going to eat you for breakfast before you eat my amazing cooking, then you are going to head off to be the hottest professor the world has ever seen. You will then come straight to the Rose after your classes. Got it? You are mine, Leire. I may be moving fast, but I have always moved slow and, for the first time in my life, I have pea
ce I never thought I would have. I have a woman I hope to be able to tell more than just I like her soon, I have someone I want to spend all my time with. Meet me after work and come home with me again, okay?” I am fucking begging. She smiles and nods, then hops up on the counter. “How about some brunch then?” After she leaves to head home and change before class, I get another cup of coffee and head to the Rose, preparing myself for the coming inquisition.

  ****

  I know I have a goofy smile on my face that will give it all away the minute I set foot in the Rose. I also know tonight is a night Leire and I need to talk. We both need to face our demons. It is the only way this will work. I force the smile back on my face and walk through the doors. Cora is excited to see me. I can tell she sees the difference in me immediately. “You did it, didn’t you?!” she yelps. “Ander, she is amazing. Please let her in. Don’t push her out like all the others,” she says, patting my shoulder and walking away. If only she knew how much I have shared already.

  Wyatt, on the other hand, is much more reserved. “Have you told her?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Ander, nothing can come of this until you tell her…unless you are planning on her being just another fuck. If that is all this is, then go for it. Fuck her out of your system and move on because that is all it can be until you can tell her what needs to be said.”

  He’s right. Nothing can come of it if I don’t discuss my past with her. I wish it was just a fuck, but the thought of not waking up next to her hurts. She shares, she listens without judgment, and she is gentle and kind to anyone in her path. She saw me. In her eyes, I can see my broken edges coming together. Maybe that’s what we are together. We serve as each other’s glue. We put each other back together into a working, living life.

 

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