Inspire

by Cora Carmack

  “Kalli, now please. I’m going to go crazy if I’m not inside you soon. There should be one in my wallet if you don’t have any.”

  I lift up on my knees enough to reach down between us and take him in my hand.

  “We don’t need one,” I whisper, stroking up the length.

  He squeezes his eyes shut and jerks hard on my headboard, as if I’d tied him to it instead of just letting him hold on.

  “You’re sure? Please God, tell me you’re sure,” he says, eyes still closed.

  I can’t get pregnant. Or rather, I can’t stay that way. Same goes for STD’s. Even if I contracted one, I’d be perfectly healthy at the next midnight.

  Rather than answering, I drag the head of his cock down the center of me until he’s positioned outside my entrance. He inhales sharply, and his eyes finally open to meet mine. Then I sink down onto him. We moan together, gaze locked as I stretch around him. A little more. A little deeper.

  “Oh baby. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

  I raise myself up a few inches, and my legs shake at the feel of him dragging through me. Then I drop again, going farther this time, taking more of him inside.

  “You feel,” he says, breathing heavy. “Shit, nothing has ever felt this good.”

  I repeat the action, finally able to press all the way down the length of him. He fills me up completely, and I stare down at him, overwhelmed by the feeling and the thought that he’s finally inside me. It takes all my concentration not to start crying again.

  “This is real,” I whisper, almost unbelieving.

  “It’s real, sweet. As real as it gets.”

  I know I should move, but I feel so full. In every way. I’m not new to sex. Not by a long shot. I’ve been with gods and mortals both, but it’s never felt like this. I can already feel myself clenching around him, and nothing has even happened yet.

  “Kalli, I need you to move.”

  “I can’t,” I whisper.

  “Why? Are you hurting?”

  I shake my head, and then I laugh because I know what I’m about to say will sound crazy. “I don’t … I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want you not inside me.”

  Wilder goes still beneath me, his muscles pulled taut. Our eyes meet, and he swallows slowly.

  “Let me touch you. Please, Kalli. You can still be in control. You can stop whenever you want. But just let me touch you.”

  I mentally evaluate the power in me. I’m somewhere between a four and a five. Not safe. But not drastic either. As long as I’m away from him by the time I’m up to an eight, everything should be fine. The build-up will slow once we’re apart, and then I should be able to last another day or two before things get dire.

  “Hands only,” I concede. “And I stay on top.”

  He immediately releases the headboard. Taking hold of my shoulders, he yanks me closer until my stomach presses against his, changing the angle of him inside me. One hand slides up to my neck, pulling me down for a hard kiss. I melt into him, but keep myself propped up just enough that we don’t touch completely. He nips my bottom lip, and my hips buck involuntarily. His touch drifts to my cheek, soft, but firmly holding me in place. Slowly, he tilts his hips into mine, sliding his other hand down to my ass to pull me tighter against him. Without putting any distance between us, I circle my hips.

  “Say it again,” he whispers.

  “Say what again?” I swivel my hips a little faster, arching up into the hand he has curved around my backside.

  “Why you didn’t want to move.”

  Oh. That.

  “I want you inside me. Always inside me.”

  The look he gives me … gods, I don’t even have words for what it does to me.

  “I love that. Fucking love that you don’t want me to leave, and if I could stay here forever, I would. But right now, I’ve got to move.”

  I nod. Knowing that my desire is irrational, impossible even. The hand on my face slips down to join the other. He doesn’t lift me off him, but he does rock me forward and up, tilting his own hips down at the same time. He slides out of me halfway, and I give up trying to keep the rest of our upper bodies separated. I drape myself over him, loving the glide of skin against skin. He pushes down on my hips, thrusting up at the same time, filling me completely again. He repeats the action, and this time I take a little more control over my movements, meeting him halfway. His thrusts are slow, but hard, and I gasp each time he fills me, hitting a tender spot inside.

  Sweat beads up where our skin touches, making my skin slick enough that I slide over him in response to each powerful drive. I don’t know whether I want to beg him to move faster or to continue his slow, even thrusts so that we can stretch this out as long as possible. We stick with slow for a while, managing a long, languid kiss as our bodies slip and roll in tandem. But eventually, slow is not enough. Wilder shortens his thrusts, using his grip on my ass to match my speed to his. When we’re moving too fast to keep up our kiss, I end up hovering over him, eyes locked on his as he strokes into me again and again.

  When I’m used to the new rhythm, he slides a hand up to cup one of my breasts.

  “I want my mouth here,” he growls. “Can you lean up and over me?”

  I lift up, planting my hands next to his head. The new angle, draws my hips farther away, and it causes his erection to nearly slip out of me completely.

  I moan at the change, and push myself backward to keep him, slamming my hips down on his. Both of us freeze and groan at the sensation.

  “Again,” he orders.

  I do as he says, leaning far enough forward that he flicks a tongue out to tease my nipple, and then I crash back down onto him. This time, he thrusts up at the same time, and it rips a scream from my throat.

  I don’t wait for him to tell me again, repeating the motion. It feels so good that my head actually goes a little fuzzy, leaving me dazed and grasping for a release that’s just out of my reach.

  Eventually, I shorten my stride, not leaning all the way up to Wilder’s mouth, but I continue to bounce my body back hard against his. There’s no controlling the noises coming out of my mouth. There’s no controlling anything. All I can do is dig my fingers into his chest for leverage and meet him thrust for thrust.

  It had felt magnificent to have Wilder so full and perfect inside me. I didn’t think anything could feel better. But each time he reenters me, it feels better than the time before. And my channel pulls tighter and tighter, as if it doesn’t want to let him go.

  My orgasm takes me by surprise. When Wilder begins to withdraw, my body catches just the right friction on his, and with only the head of his cock inside me, my muscles clench tight. The force of the pleasure makes me arch my back, pressing back down onto Wilder, but he feels bigger now. Harder.

  “Kalli. Ah, fuck Kalli.”

  I get to see his face as he comes apart this time. Cheeks flushed, hair wild, mouth open. He is all chaos and beauty beneath me, his eyes lit with fire and love. He presses up into me as the moment stretches on and on.

  I thank time. For making the best moments in life always feel longer than they are.

  I thank the gods. For the gift that allowed me to live long enough to feel this.

  I thank fate. For bringing him to me, and me to him.

  I slump against his chest, feeling the comforting pull of the thread that binds us. This is meant to be, Wilder and me. I can’t lose him. I won’t.

  The words of an oracle are not law, nor fate. They’re a glance at the future as it stood at that very moment.

  But I know in the very marrow of my bones that the future must be different now.

  Because loving Wilder, being with Wilder, changed me after a millennia of staying the same.

  “Happy New Year,” he murmurs into my skin.

  I glance up at the clock, and sure enough, he’s right. 12:04 A.M. Hope fills my soul to the very brim. I gave up marking the passage of years a long time ago. There wasn’t any point to it. Not then. Smiling, I
tug, rolling at the same time so that my back hits the mattress and his body covers mine.

  He looks down at me, his eyebrows lifted in question. I wrap my legs around his hips and smile.

  “Wish me a Happy New Year again,” I say.

  His eyes blaze with what I can only call hunger. Leaning down, he presses my body into the mattress with the weight of his own, and together we celebrate a new beginning.

  “It’s not a problem. I swear.”

  Classes have started back up, and the one marketing class Wilder and I managed to get together is the highlight of my week. Or rather, I know it will be. This is only our second week back, but I can already tell that this class is going to be perfect. We can’t exactly have a lot of physical contact in a lecture hall, so it allows me to see him, to spend time with him in a safe setting.

  “Are you sure, Kalli? If it’s too much of a pain—”

  I cut him off with a hand over his mouth. He stands in the hallway, looking incredibly handsome as he rubs at the back of his neck. I’ve really started to adore that nervous habit of his. I remove my hand from his mouth and lay my hand over the top of his, stopping the anxious movement.

  “Baby, I’ve told you before. I love your sister. I can absolutely watch her until you get off work. We’ll have fun.”

  “Mom might get off before me. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to fix the account I screwed up.”

  Lines form around his frowning mouth, and I take over rubbing the back of his neck, knowing how stressed he is, trying to once again juggle school and work with me added on top of it. He wasn’t supposed to work today, but his boss called right before class. Wilder didn’t tell me exactly what he said, but seeing Wilder’s expression as they talked was enough for me. I’ve never been good at watching him hurt, even before I fell for him.

  “You do whatever you have to do. We’ll be fine.”

  He turns his head, kissing my wrist. “You know I love you, right?”

  A smile spreads wide across my face. I will never get tired of hearing those words.

  “I do know that.”

  “Good.” He grins wickedly, one hand sliding down to squeeze my ass and pull me closer. “I promise to prove it later at your place.”

  I playfully push him off, feigning a frown at his public display, but we both know I enjoyed it as much as he did. We settle the details of my babysitting duty, and he heads off to his next class, and me to mine.

  “Tonight,” he promises again, but I know my levels are too high to sleep with him tonight. Not unless I find some time in the day to meet up with one of my artists. A night together typically raises my energies by four levels, more if it’s, um, a long night, and that’s only if I can manage to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and sleep on the couch for while, and then return before he wakes. If I actually spend the night in his arms, it can raise as much as six levels.

  But since I’m picking up Gwen from school after my classes, I doubt I’ll be able to find an opportunity to release any of the energy before I see Wilder again this evening. I’ll have to make some excuse. Pretend to not be feeling well or something similar.

  It’s not an ideal situation, but I’m managing better than I could have ever hoped. In the few weeks we’ve been seeing each other, I’ve only had one close call, and that was when Wilder showed up unannounced while I was supposed to be “working.” But even then, I managed to keep a tight rein on my ability until I could get him out of my apartment and squeeze in some time with Lennox.

  All in all, I’m cautiously hopeful for my new life.

  I know eventually I’ll have to think about the future. There will come a point where he will begin to age, and I won’t. But that’s years away, and there’s time enough to stress over that. For the moment, I just want to enjoy what I have. I reach for the familiar pressure of the fate thread that binds us, and the steady buzz of it comforts me. I have to believe there’s a reason we’re connected. I have faith that everything will somehow come together.

  After one more class, I run home to quickly grab a few things and then head to the address Wilder gave me for Gwen’s Kindergarten. I park my car and wait outside while teachers begin leading lines of students outside. It takes me a while to find her, but finally I spot her wearing black leggings and a pink cotton dress near the flagpole. I cross quickly and introduce myself to her teacher. Wilder was supposed to call ahead and tell him I'd be picking up Gwen. Her teacher, a tall, lanky man in his thirties blinks a few times when he looks at me, and holds onto my hand for a second too long.

  “I'm sorry. What did you say your name was?”

  I pull back and smile politely. “I'm Kalli Thomas.” I remind him, “I'm here for Gwen. Her brother called to say I'd be picking her up.”

  “Right. Right, of course. I remember.”

  He calls out Gwen's name, and she looks away from the small group of kids she's been talking with. She squeals when she sees me and runs forward to launch herself at my legs.

  I laugh, and bend awkwardly to squeeze her shoulders.

  “Good to see you too, kiddo.”

  She leans sideways, looking behind me. “Where's Wilder?'

  “He had to run into work to take care of a problem. He asked me to pick you up for him. Is that okay?”

  She squeezes my legs again in answer, and I marvel for a moment at the sight of her small hand just above my knee. Her short little fingers and tiny palm reveal just how young she really is. I smile down at her.

  “You ready to go? I thought you and I could go have some fun.”

  She pumps her fist in the air. “Yes! Let's go.”

  Grabbing my hand, she tugs me toward the parking lot as if she knows exactly where she's going. I call a polite goodbye to her teacher, even though he's still staring at me.

  “Slow down, princess. My car is this way.”

  She calms, if only slightly, and lets me lead her in the right direction.

  “Where are you taking me? What are we doing? Can we get ice cream?”

  I laugh.

  “Well, I remembered that you said you loved to swim.” They had a pool at the house they lost, and it’s one of the things Gwen talks about the most.

  “We’re going swimming?” she yells, drawing a few stares from parents walking their children through the parking lot.

  I chuckle. “It's still a little too cold to swim outside. But there's an indoor pool at the university rec center. We can get you a guest pass, and yeah … go swimming.”

  She screams a little more, hugging my legs again, and my heart feels full enough to burst at her excitement. We make a quick trip to the Bell apartment to get her bathing suit, and then head back to campus.

  I take care of her guest pass, and we get changed in the women's locker room. I hold her hand as we walk past the lap pool where a few swimmers are training in the lanes. We bypass it for the regular pool on the far side of the complex, and I have to keep a tight hold on Gwen's hand to keep her from running off. At its shallowest, the pool is still four feet deep. So we brought arm floaties in addition to Gwen's swimsuit. She insisted she didn't need them, but I made her wear them just to be safe. Wilder trusts me with his little sister, and I have no intentions of damaging that. We play for an hour or so, and I find myself sticking close to her even when she proves to be as competent a swimmer as she promised. At her suggestion, we pretend to be mermaids, and I play along as she invents a wild, fanciful story about our life under the sea as mermaid sisters.

  I eventually drag her out of the pool for a break to make sure she drinks some water after playing so hard. I know I'm probably being paranoid, but I can't help wanting to protect her. While we're on our break, Wilder calls to let me know he's home. I explain where we are and tell him to take a break and relax, that I'll take care of Gwen for a little longer.

  I only intend for us to stay another hour tops, but it's two hours before I finally manage not to buckle under Gwen's begging. We dry off and change, and then ho
p in the car to return to Gwen's home.

  The front door is open when we arrive, so Gwen pushes in before I knock or ring the doorbell. Cautiously, I follow her inside the living room, my eyes scanning for Wilder. Instead, they find his mother, leaning against the wall right outside the kitchen, smiling.

  There's music playing, something acoustic.

  “Mrs. Bell, we're—”

  Her eyes snap to mine and she holds a finger to her lips, shushing me. I press my lips together, and she beckons me toward her as the music quiets. I cross toward the kitchen, and when I'm standing right behind her, I see she has a foot keeping the door from swinging closed. She pushes her foot out, widening the crack a little, and my whole body turns to stone when I glance inside.

  Wilder is sitting on a tall stool, guitar laid over his lap as he bends to write on a piece of paper on the island counter. He scribbles for a moment, and then pushes the pen behind his ear, returning to the guitar and starting the music that I'd heard when I entered.

  He closes his eyes, and his fingers move quickly over the strings. Sound pours off the instrument, and even though I hear it, it’s somehow silent in my head at the same time. Something divides inside of me, peeling apart. Half of me stays here in the moment watching him, and the other half retreats, pulling deeper and deeper into myself, trying to hide.

  No. Gods, no. Please.

  Wilder opens his mouth and begins to sing, and at the sound of his deep, raspy voice, the dizziness implodes and I don’t know which way is up or down or in or out. I don’t even know if there’s still a world beneath my feet.

  There was a moment when you laughed and your eyes met mine

  Your cheeks were flushed, eyes bright from the wine

  That’s when I felt it start, not quite a twist in the heart

  But a step, a leap, over some imaginary line

  Is this how it feels to fall?

  Not so complicated after all.

  I expected a tempest. Relentless. Maybe even senseless.

  Is this how it feels to fall?