Possession

by Johnson, A. M.

  Her legs began to shake and she leaned into me for support. Her hand was working me into a frenzy, bringing me closer.

  Breathe.

  Closer.

  Breathe.

  She was riding it out, breathless, telling me not to stop and speaking my name in soft sighs. Her nails dug into my shoulder as she became feeling, as she gasped and whimpered and came on my fingers. Her eyes locked on mine and her hand stilled around my length, leaving me aching and raw for her. Paige’s kiss was aggressive as I eased my hand from between her legs and settled it onto her hip. She nipped my lip as a small aftershock rocked her against me. I growled into her mouth as I brought us both down onto the bed with a gentle crash. She was pinned below me as I raised myself up onto my forearms so I could see her face.

  Her eyes swirled with bits of green, her chest was red, her lips ruby, and her climax was still present along her goose pimpled skin. “I forgot how colorful you look after you come.” My smile quirked up on one side as her blush deepened further.

  She bit her lip as she lowered her hands slowly down my chest, her nails leisurely moving past the line of hair on my stomach. She brushed her thumb over the head of my dick before guiding me between her legs. “Do it again.”

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “Remind me who I am.” She moved her hips beneath me and I was gone to over nine years of waiting as I pushed inside her.

  A growl rumbled in my throat as her body welcomed me. My stomach clenched as she took me in, and a thick relief washed down my spine as the color of her eyes turned that unique color of blue. That color was reserved for me, and only when we were connected like this. I didn’t blink as the azure waters with honey around the rims brought me home.

  His eyes turned a shade darker as he’d slipped inside me. He watched me, holding me with his stare. His jaw was tight, his control steady as I breathed him in with a kiss. He brought his hand to my cheek and whispered into my ear. His taste lingered on my tongue. My name on his lips, his teeth on my neck, his smell of citrus mixed with sex, he stroked each sense as his slow movements started to become powerful.

  I slid my hands down his back, feeling the raw muscle stretch and burn beneath my fingertips. I rested my hands just below his waist pulling his backside harder against me, pushing him, and feeling him all the way to my core. His groan turned to a growl as he raised up onto his arms just enough to roll our bodies together as one. I sat astride him and, for the briefest of moments, a glimmer of insecurity flickered, and I raised my hands to cover my breasts. He lifted his hands to my wrists, gently lowering my arms as I leaned forward and my palms covered the large black cross on his sternum.

  “You don’t ever have to hide from me.” His voice was rich and filled with a decadent command.

  I wasn’t used to the intense way Declan looked at me as I traced my thumb along the edge of the cross. Clark’s eyes had always been shut, but this man, he gripped my hips, eyes wide open, lifting me, pulling me forward, and then bringing me back down, filling me with feeling, again and again, with each forceful thrust. I gasped as he opened me, moved me, and created something new inside me. I’d forgotten, I’d shoved it all away, but now I was giving myself over to the resurrection.

  “Oh, God.” The two words spilled loudly from my shaky lips as he cupped my breasts with strong hands. He rocked his hips, hitting me deep within, in just the spot I needed to feel every bit of him.

  His hands skimmed the curves of my body, settling around my rib cage, feeling every one of my breaths, and with each drive of his hips, my breathing hitched and became uneven. My thighs began to tremble on either side of him as he dropped one of his hands between my legs, his fingers touching me, bringing me just to the edge of reason, and that delicious building ache spread into my stomach, and my muscles tensed as I came closer to falling. The room was full of plush purple light, suggestive sounds, deep breaths, whispered whimpers, and skin touching skin. My eyes were on his when my climax hit. His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed, but he never dropped my gaze. My eyes almost closed as that ache ebbed through me in ripples, and I cried out, unable to hold it all in. Unable to harness the incredible, and overpowering wave. He found his release inside me, shuddering below me with a gritty growl.

  I moved my hips, pulling him in and then out one more time, and he groaned, stilling my hips under the dominant grasp of his fingers.

  I leaned down to kiss him and he brought his hands to my face. His fingers pressed along my hairline, and he paused. For a few seconds, he just looked at me. His forehead was beaded with sweat, his lips were parted, and his eyes were molten as he pulled me in for another kiss. I was thoroughly out of breath as I broke away from his lips and our connection as I collapsed next to him on the bed. My cheek rested against the left side of his chest, and my right hand covered the cross as his fingertips drew long, slow, shiver-inducing lines along my arm and hip.

  We rested in a peaceful silence at first. My fingers trailing down his stomach and back to the cross a few times before I said, “I’ve blamed myself for so long, never thinking I was worth more than what I had, waiting for God to grant me some sort of reprieve, and just when I thought that final piece of myself had faded away, he gave me back to you.” I raised up on my left elbow and reverently kissed him on the chest right in the center of the cross.

  He brought my right hand back to the tattoo and I felt each inhale and exhale—he lived just below the ink.

  “You’ve always been there, you’re right here, in each breath. You belong to color… to me. This… this is the only religion you need.”

  His lips found mine before I could speak, before I could say I loved that, loved him, everything about him was my favorite thing, but as he eased me onto my back, his body, his muscle, his heat covering me again, all I wanted to do was show him.

  Our lips didn’t separate as he aligned himself within me again. He made love to me until all I could see, smell, and hear was him—until I fell asleep enveloped in strong arms, covered in his scent, in his warmth, and bathed in the pastel of the early morning sun as it trickled through his blinds.

  Every muscle in my body was alive the next morning. My arms ached and my thighs burned. I was sore everywhere. Declan’s bathroom was chilly as I turned on the shower. I caught my reflection in the mirror and noticed that my skin was peppered with his touch. A few fingerprints here and there, but mostly on my hips and thighs. My chin was red, my cheeks were pink, and my hair was messy. I bit the corner of my lip trying to suppress my smile. I brought my hand to my collarbone and traced a line where he’d just kissed me not fifteen minutes ago. My eyes closed as I let myself remember the bristle of his beard on my overly sensitive skin, and the way we’d woken up together, snuggled beneath the comforter, my back still to his chest, drunk on each other and lack of sleep.

  If I could I would’ve stayed with him in that bed all day, but at some point, reality won, and Liam banged on his door warning Declan that “his ass” better be to work in an hour.

  The door to the bathroom opened and Declan walked in, shutting it behind him. He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing and I admired him under the bright lights of the bathroom. The only trace of the boy I’d once known was evident in his lopsided smile as he, too, admired the view. I tried to comb my fingers through my hair, but it was pointless. His eyes trailed along my body, stopping at each mark he’d left behind. His smile wavered.

  “They don’t hurt,” I reassured as I moved toward him.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Good,” he said with an exhale and then kissed my cheek before pulling back the shower curtain.

  The small space of the shower was filled with steam and Declan. I huddled in front of him as the hot water hit my back, unraveling each knot. Declan’s hands covered my body with his soap, the brand the same as I’d remembered, as he washed me. His fingers worked against the muscles in my shoulders, his touch leaving me limp. I washed him as well, explo
ring his ink and his piercings. His body reacted as my fingers traced the V of his hips. Declan had always been quiet, but I liked that I could see how much my touch affected him. I could see it in the way his pupils dilated, the way his stomach twitched, and how his jaw pulsed, amongst other things. It was intoxicating knowing I made him feel as much as he did me.

  He smiled as he leaned down and kissed me. Water trickled in past my lips as his tongue licked at the seam of my mouth. He groaned and rested his forehead against mine.

  “I wish I didn’t have to work,” he said, and I laughed.

  “You could come to The Gallery when you’re finished. The renter fell through, and I picked up a few of Chandler’s shifts if he promised to let me use the studio for a few days. I started something yesterday, on my down time at work. I haven’t had a chance to do much with it, but I’d like to show you.”

  “I’m closing tonight, it wouldn’t be until after eleven.”

  “That’s okay,” I said and gave him a broad smile. “I don’t work at all today, so I’ll probably go home and nap… I was up really late last night, I could use the rest.” My nose wrinkled as his lips slid into a slow smile.

  “I’ll be there.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across mine before reaching behind me to shut off the water. “If we stay in here any longer, I’ll never make it to work.”

  We dried off and he let me borrow one of his sweaters to wear home. The soft gray material would have hugged the wide breadth of his shoulders and fit snug along the washboard of his stomach, but it swallowed me. I brought the sleeve of it to my nose and inhaled the smell of his detergent. I lifted my eyes and caught him staring at me. He was relaxed, his mouth slightly curved at the side, in jeans and a dark blue, fitted sweater. The morning sun poured in through his open blinds. His hair seemed blonder under the light. Gold flecks highlighted his full beard. He was symmetry and stone, masculine and handsome.

  We stood about ten feet apart, him on one side of his room, me on the other. I reached inside my jeans pocket and pulled out my hair tie.

  “Leave it down,” he said softly.

  “Why?” I narrowed my brows and placed the hair tie back in my pocket. The strands were starting to air dry in wild waves.

  He moved toward me closing the distance. “Remember that time… it was spring, and we’d only been together since that winter. We’d gotten stuck in the sprinklers, out in the middle of the lawn at school. You were soaked, head to toe.”

  I smiled as I remembered. He had laughed, and I had pouted, but he’d kissed me anyway, ignoring the frigid wet clothes.

  “Your hair, by the end of the day, it had taken on its own life. It was waves of corn silk, and I remember the exact shade of yellow I’d painted you in that night.” His smile touched his eyes. “I was infatuated with you… and fuck…” He exhaled a long breath, and my heart skipped and hammered for him. “Looking at you…” He raised one of his hands and fingered a piece of my hair. “It’s like I’ve gone back in time.”

  He pulled me into a hug, and his arms engulfed me. My cheek pressed against his chest. The rapid beat of his heart matched mine. “I remember.” I laughed and he let me lean back so I could look into his eyes. “It was a good day if you disregarded the soggy clothes we had to deal with for two whole periods. Wasn’t that the same day we made-out in the art supply closet and Mrs. Birch caught us.”

  His head tilted back as he laughed, the full body sound of it filled my heart, and the last pieces of us, of who we’d been, of who we were, clicked into place.

  “Yes. You used to make me so crazy for you.” He pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear.

  “And now?” I teased.

  The lids of his eyes lowered and that smoke, that unbridled darkness that was purely Declan filled his irises as his gaze fell to my mouth.

  He kissed me until my knees felt weak.

  He held my waist as he pulled away. “If anything, it’s worse now. You taste… different, and I can’t explain it, I’ve tried to reconcile it to a color, but it doesn’t exist. I want to stay here instead of going to work, indulge in it… in you.”

  I laced my fingers through his and tugged. “You feel different… I love that your hands are strong and calloused in a way that scratches at the very root of what I need. You’re a man, Declan, and as much as I’ve lingered in the past, wishing for the boy, I’d rather have you… just like this.”

  He leaned down and the whisper of I love you sent a shiver along my neck and arms.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “I am.”

  “Come on, I’ll make us some breakfast,” he said as he led me to his bedroom door.

  Breakfast turned out to be cereal and coffee. I laughed when he pulled out a box of Cap’n Crunch.

  “What?” He smirked.

  I shrugged and bit the inside of my cheek holding in my full-fledged smile. That cereal had always been his favorite. “It’s nice to see not everything has changed.”

  He poured milk into the bowl and looked at me without contrition. “It’s a staple… Liam tried to buy the generic, bagged shit once… it wasn’t the same.” His lips tipped down as, I assumed, he thought about the horrors of eating off-brand Cap’n Crunch.

  I laughed and I felt it in my stomach.

  He trailed his thumb along my cheek. “I love that sound, and this…” He pulled his thumb along my lower lip tracing my smile before he bent down and kissed me, leaving me wanting more.

  Our time was too short. After a night, a morning like we’d had, I wanted to stay in, catch up, laugh some more, eat five hundred pounds of sweet cereal as we remembered things about our history that had made us happy. As I’d watched him sip his coffee, I’d pretended that this was just like any other day. This was our place and, when we both returned home from our long day, we’d lavish each other in touch, lose ourselves in the sounds of the other, and eat dinner naked on the floor of our bedroom, with paints and pencils strewn around us. It was the life we should’ve had, but I was content knowing that it could possibly, hopefully, one day, become our reality.

  I’d texted Lana while we were eating. Declan had told me I could wait in the shop until she arrived, but I hadn’t needed to. She had shown up right as we started walking down the back stairs. Lana pulled in and parked behind the shop, next to a mean looking motorcycle.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” Declan pressed his lips to mine and instead of letting him pull away, I wrapped my fingers in his hair and kissed him harder. A frantic feeling flooded my chest and anxiety pooled in my stomach. After everything, after last night, I wasn’t ready to just let him go.

  He pulled away and placed his hands on either side of my neck, his thumbs just above my pulse points. “I know.” His voice was heavy. “I feel it, too. But, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned in closer, his eyes serious. “I love you, Paige.”

  A lump formed in my throat and it was hard to speak around its sharp edges. This was painful. It actually physically hurt to leave him. He’d saved me last night, after I’d suffered for years in a bleak, hollow, pallid state, he’d been able to revive me. Declan took me from a blank page to a panoramic canvas filled with an assortment of brilliant shades.

  “I love you, too.” My voice almost cracked, and I inhaled trying to stave off my overreaction to this departure.

  He squeezed my hand when he said, “Goodbye.” Untying each finger as slowly as he could, kissing me one last time before he turned toward the backdoor of the shop.

  I’d see him tonight, it was only a few short hours. I was being ridiculous… then why did my heart still hurt, and why the heck did I have tears in my eyes as I took a seat in the passenger side of Lana’s car.

  “Shit… are you okay?”

  “How do I do this?” I asked.

  “Do what, honey?”

  “How can I survive giving myself over to it, breathe again, feel so much, and then walk away?” I sniffled.

  She laughed lightly.
“Awe.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m serious.”

  “I can tell.” She smiled, and I sat up straighter wiping under my eyes. “You’ve gone a long time without real love, and it’s about time you’re getting what you need. Would it help if I told you, beyond the snot and tears, you’re actually glowing?”

  My lip twitched fighting my smile. “I am?”

  She nodded and shifted the car into reverse. “Yes, ma’am, you are. Maybe I slept with the wrong brother.”

  I gasped, “You didn’t?”

  “I did.”

  “Where?” I was floored.

  “Our place.”

  I giggled like a freaking teenager. “Lana!”

  “What? He’s hot and–”

  “Nope, stop right there, I don’t want know.” I shook my head and laughed.

  “See, all better, we’re all smiles again.” She lifted her right eyebrow and grinned as she started to back out of the lot.

  My lungs filled with a deep breath as I raised my sleeves to my nose.

  Declan.

  I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the headrest of the seat. I could feel his lips on mine, his hands on my hips, my stomach—my face. I felt his heavy weight along the length of my body. He’d released all the feelings I’d stowed away, and I wanted to catalogue each one, keep it safe inside me. I didn’t want to just survive it, I wanted to live it. If that meant when I left him, each time, I’d be reduced to a puddle of tears, then so be it.

  I’d rather drown in a blue sea of longing than fade into the white noise of nothing.