by T L Swan
However, the shadow it cast looks evil, scary, even.
I sit back and stare at it. Wow! That is thought provoking. Depending on what kind of person you were would definitely determine how you saw this image. A positive person would only see the beautiful tree and all of its glorious shades of green. A pessimist would probably see the black shadow, the twisted tortured limbs. I smile broadly as I clap. I get it, I get what he means by this photo and it really does mean a lot to me that I do.
He waves and everyone claps as he takes his place behind the microphone.
“Thank you.” He holds the Oscar looking gold statue in front of him. “This award means a lot to me.” He hesitates as he turns and looks at the image behind him then turns back to the audience. “The quote came to me from a very old source in a book.
Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow, by Aesop.
It resonated with me.” He pauses. “Up until very recently I had done just that. I had lost the substance because I had grasped the shadow. I was always overthinking the end.”
I frown, what’s he talking about? The end? Is that… death? Is he talking about depression?
I’m confused.
He smiles broadly. “Recently I have found my substance.”
The crowd continues to clap and I smile back at him.
“She’s wears a white dress.” He smiles down at me sitting at the table and I stop breathing. Holy shit, he’s talking about me. What the hell?
The applause gets louder and I feel myself turning red as I smile unable to stop my eyes from tearing up.
He holds his gold statue up in the air. “Thank you, Emmaline. You are the substance and it is your light that has completely eclipsed the shadow.”
Chapter 15
I clap and drop my head to hide my emotion. The crowd continue to applaud Alastar as he makes his way back to the table. I have no idea what he really means by what he said, but damn, it sounded so good. I’m the light that has blocked the shadow.
A fleeting sinking feeling fills me. What is his shadow?
The reminder that he wants to spend his last week with me swirls through my head.
Is he dying?
Does he have depression?
Is he suffering from a mental illness?
How can I help him?
He falls into the seat next to me and I smile over at him. He knows I’m getting emotional, choosing to kiss me gently. Taking my hand in his, he holds it on his thigh and rubs his thumb over the back of it tenderly, as if trying to calm my nerves.
The next award is read out, but my mind is elsewhere as I stare blankly at the stage.
What did his speech just reveal? What was all that code for? He does feel what is between us. I’m not in this alone, I know I’m not.
He’s going away for a reason. He’s pushing me away for a reason.
But what is it?
I squeeze his hand and he squeezes it back reassuringly and my eyes flick over to him as he watches me intently.
I lean over and smile. “Stop looking at me like that or we are sneaking off home,” I whisper.
He kisses my cheek. “No, we are not,” he whispers into my ear, so close that I feel his breath on my skin, and goosebumps tingle.
I pull back and look at him flatly. I think I have had enough of this night now. I don’t want to share him anymore. I want him all to myself. I sit back in my chair, dejected, and continue to watch the seemingly never-ending awards.
* * *
Finally, the boring part of the night is over and the music has started. There’s a band on stage playing cover songs. They are really talented. I am on my way too many-ieth glass of champagne and am feeling very loveable indeed.
Alastar being the main victim of my love.
“Do you want to dance?” Alastar smiles mischievously as he kisses the back of my hand.
I smirk as my eyes hold his. “Yes, I do.” We stand and make our way to the dance floor and I put both of my arms around his neck. His hands fall to my waist. We sway softly to the music and he bends and kisses me gently.
I stare up at him, smiling goofily.
His happiness mirrors mine. “What?”
“What substance am I?”
He laughs out loud and pulls me closer. “A wonder drug, so it seems.”
My face falls and his eyes hold mine.
“Are you sick, Twinkle?”
He hesitates and shakes his head. “No, I’m not sick.”
I stare into his eyes as I try to decipher the other language he speaks.
“Are you leaving me for a reason?”
He frowns, pained as he kisses me gently in an attempt to try and soften the blow.
“Yes,” he whispers.
I get a lump in my throat. “What is it?” I push out.
He pulls me close and holds my head to his chest. “Hush, my love. Don’t you worry about it. Everything is going as it should.”
My eyes tear up as my head stays on his shoulder. How can it be fine when he is leaving me for a reason that he won’t tell me?
The song changes to a cover of Like I’m Going to Lose You from Meghan Trainer
I found myself dreaming in silver and gold,
Like a scene from a movie that every broken heart knows.
I smile. “I love this song.”
His lips smile against my forehead.
“Very fitting,” I whisper.
I'm gonna love you… like I'm gonna lose you.
I need to snap out of this whiney mood. I have him for three days. Make the most of it, stupid. I smile up at him and kiss his lips gently as his arms pull me closer to his body.
“This can be our song, Twinkle.” I smile up at him.
He smirks. “I think Christina Perri’s hit song is more relevant to us.”
I frown. “What is that song?”
He takes my hand and spins me around, causing me to nearly fall over. I laugh out loud. “You....” He begins as he spins me again and I nearly fall off my feet. “Need to be quiet or else I will take you home and punish you for over talking.”
I laugh as I am twirled around the dance floor. “Promises, promises."
Alastar
We hit the front door, my body trapping hers under mine. My hands are in her hair, my pelvis grinding into hers. Our lips are locked and our tongues are doing their seductive dance as they devour each other, searching for a deeper connection.
Shit, we are in drunk and horny heaven.
The cab ride home was hard. The whole night has been hard… like my cock. How do you keep your hands off an angel who tempts you to be the devil? Offering untold pleasure to my mere male body. I want to commit every single sin with her and I can’t think about tomorrow with this amount of testosterone in my blood. I know I’m bordering on dangerous territory, and if she knocked me back now I don’t honestly think I could stop myself. It has taken every ounce of my strength not to take her hard up against every surface while at the ball.
I have never seen a woman look so beautiful or feel so perfect beneath my hands. That tight, white dress has turned on the animal in me. I need to get him under control or I am going to hurt her… and fuck, it’s going to feel so good doing it.
Emmaline’s hands are in my hair, holding my face down to hers, and my hands are on her behind dragging her body up and down over my engorged cock.
I’m as hard as steel as I feel the pre-ejaculate wet my pants.
I need to have her like never before. I need her.
I want her naked, wet and covered in perspiration. Only then can I regain some clarity to my thoughts.
I pin her body up against my front door as we kiss for an extended time.
Bed.
We need a bed.
“Door,” she breathes into my mouth.
I smile into her lips. I can’t even let her go to unlock the fucking door. I step back as my body shudders as it suffers her withdrawal. I take out my keys and open the front door. A lamp is
lit in my foyer on the side table, but the rest of my house is in complete darkness. I lead her in by the hand and turn to lock the deadlock on the front door with the keys.
“No escaping now,” I whisper into the darkness.
She kisses me, and then taking me by the hand, leads me up the stairs. I watch her sexy ass swaying in front of me. I can’t wait. The bathroom light is still on from earlier and I turn on the lamp next to the bed, and then turn the bathroom light off. I want to watch her tonight. I want to see that beautiful body as I devour it.
She stands at the end of the bed, her eyes dark with want, and I drop to my knees in front of her. I kiss her sex through her dress as my arousal starts to thump heavily in my pants. Her hands drop to the back of my head.
I take one shoe off, and then the other. I run my hands up her calf muscles. Do I want her stockings on or off?
Off.
I carefully roll down the top of her thigh-high stocking on one leg and slide it over her foot before I do the same with the other. I kiss her thigh through the split in her dress. I can smell her—smell the pleasure that awaits me under those sexy panties—and I stand with renewed urgency.
“Turn around.” I growl.
She turns instantly and I smile into the darkness. She’s so in tune with me, so in tune with what she has to do to please me in the bedroom. I like it… who am I kidding?
I fucking love it.
Sliding the long zipper slowly down her back to reveal her perfect pale skin, I kiss down the length of the opening. Then I slide the dress from her shoulders and turn her around to face me.
I rub my lips as my eyes drop down the body of my goddess, wearing a white silk strapless bra and panties that match. I smile in appreciation as I reach around and undo her bra, watching as it falls to the floor. Her thick blond hair hangs loosely around her shoulders and her large, blue, hooded eyes watch me. I bend to take her erect nipple into my mouth and I bite it hard.
She gasps in pain and I smile around her as my body starts to really thump. I move my mouth to the other breast and she cups my face tenderly in her hands. Goosebumps scatter my body. She is the only person who has ever evoked such a reaction from touching me and my cock becomes near painful. I grab the cheeks of her behind with force and pull them apart as far as I can, forcing her up onto her toes to try and deal with my onslaught.
That’s it. I need to taste her. I can’t wait a minute longer.
I slide her panties down her legs and throw her onto the bed. She lands with a giggle.
Standing still, I watch her lying on my bed on her back.
Naked.
For me.
“Open you legs,” I breathe.
Her eyes hold mine and she spreads her legs wide. I instinctively grab my cock that’s nearly ripping my pants open as it tries desperately to escape its restraints.
I inhale as I catch sight of the wet, pink flesh, and my jaw ticks as I clench my teeth in appreciation.
She’s just so perfect, every damn inch of her. I drop to my knees, licking my lips as I brush my mouth up and down her inner thigh.
She sighs in pleasure and her back arches off the mattress. Unable to resist her any longer, I place my mouth over her opening and my eyes close in pleasure.
Fuck… she tastes so good. My tongue gets to work as I lose all coherent thought. The feel of her gentle hands on the back of my head and the sound of her cries of pleasure are drowned out by the sound of the blood racing through my body as I hear my pulse start to throb in my ears.
Her body starts to lurch off the bed, moving closer toward my face, and I lose myself completely in her.
Licking.
Biting.
Trying desperately to hold off my orgasm.
“Fuck me.” She growls. “I need you to fuck me. Hard. Right now.”
I smile into her. I love it when she gets to this point… and she always does. She’s so desperate for my cock.
I’m being selfish, I know. I should let her come like this. But I want to feel her muscles contract around me because this climax of hers is going to be strong. She’s as revved up as I am. It’s going to feel so damn good.
I stand, suddenly aware that I am still dressed in my black dinner suit. She smiles lovingly up at me and I smirk as I rip my jacket off, and then undo my shirt and bow tie at record speed. I rip my pants down and my cock springs free. Emmaline laughs in delight and the sound is like an axe coming down on my neck.
She sits up and tries to grab my cock, but I push her back with force. I don’t want her mouth. With one hard slam I am inside her and she cries out. I stay still to let her adjust to my size. I can’t hurt her, no matter how much I would love to.
I close my eyes as the fire in my balls demands some movement. My lips take hers and I pull out then slowly sink back in.
Oh dear fucking God, she feels so good. My cock can feel every single muscle deep inside of her.
This woman was born to seduce me. To fuck me. To drag me to my fucking knees.
I slam back into her and she cries out. Damn this. I need it harder. I pull out and flip her over onto her knees and pull her legs as wide apart as they will go. I grab a handful of her hair with one hand, holding her hipbone with the other, and start to ride her hard. She gasps at my brutality.
In and out.
I need it harder.
I take my thumb and gently slide it into her back opening, and she moans, dropping her head to the bed to change the angle of her ass.
My eyes roll back in my head as the most intense orgasm I have ever felt from a woman rips me near in half. She screams into her pillow as my body takes on its own life and tears into her.
I couldn’t stop this even I tried. I throw myself across her back as my cock shoots straight into the centre of my beautiful purpose.
I pant, gasping for air, completely overcome with the feelings I have for the beautiful purpose that is both my savior and my sacrifice.
Emerson
I wake to the feeling of Alastar getting out of bed but decide to doze a little longer; my tired eyes won’t open. I smile in my contented state of semi-consciousness while I recall last night.
Magical doesn’t even come close to describing it.
Alastar made me feel like a queen at the ball and when we got home He’d fucked me like he’d hated my guts, again and again… and again. It was the best mind-blowing sex I have ever had in my life.
I sense him walking around and I open one eye to see what he is doing. He bends and picks up my dress to fold it neatly. He then brings it up to his face and inhales it deeply. I smile as I pretend to sleep. He’s smelling my clothes. He picks up my panties and bra and, once again, inhales them. He smiles and then folds them, placing them carefully on top of my dress on the chair. He picks up his clothes and folds them neatly, too, and then walks into the bathroom with them, no doubt to put them in the washing hamper. Why he would fold clothes to put into a dirty washing basket, though, I don’t know. I hear him in the bathroom and I smile into my pillow. Neat freak. He’s packing my hot rollers and makeup away. He walks back out into the bedroom and I feel him standing watching me for a moment.
I smile on the inside because he has no idea that I am awake. He walks around to his side of the bed and turns the lamp off. We must have fallen asleep with it on. And then he does something I don’t understand. He turns the lamp on and off four times as if testing it or something. I frown to myself. What is he doing?
He then walks into the bathroom and I hear the light switch turn on and off four times. I frown into my pillow. He then walks out and picks up my folded clothes and rearranges them on the chair before he refolds them.
What the hell is he doing?
He picks up my princess ring from the bedside table and stares at it for a moment deep in thought, and then he sits down on the bed next to me and picks up my hand to slide it onto my finger. I close my hand around his and he bends to kiss me.
“Good morning, my love,” he whispers.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I smile. “Good morning, my Twinkle.”
He smiles cheekily. “Would you like some breakfast?” he asks in a husky fuck-me-now Irish accent.
I nod and pull the blankets back. “Come lie with me first.”
He shakes his head. “I’m too hungry. Come cuddle me downstairs. We can come back to bed later.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of bed, wrapping me in his robe soon after. I begrudgingly follow him downstairs and take a seat at the kitchen counter.
He flicks on the coffee machine and leans over the counter to kiss me on the lips.
I smile, suddenly bashful at the thought of our sexual activities last night.
I don’t know if it was the champagne, the man, or the carefree attitude, but he pushed me further than I have ever gone before.
“What?” He smirks into my lips.
I run my hands though his stubble. “You blew my damn mind last night,” I whisper.
He kisses me again, all suction, all domination. “I’m going to blow it again today, too.” He slips his hand inside my gown and cups my breast. He bends and brings it to his mouth.
He stands with renewed purpose. “I need to feed my mouth before I feed my dick. I’ve got zero petrol left in the tank,” he mutters in disgust as he turns to the fridge and opens the door.
I laugh. I bet he hasn’t. My tank is way below zero. My elbow leans on the bench and my hand is under my chin. I watch him look through the fridge. As he goes through the shelves, he turns every single jar so that the label is all slightly facing the right. I frown as I watch him for an extended time. What is he doing?
He retrieves the eggs and makes our coffee, and I sit as I watch him. I haven’t noticed him doing this before? Does he always have these quirks? He hands me my coffee and then carries on making us breakfast. Every now and then he will stop what he is doing and rearrange the things on the bench, as if unable to carry on until everything is perfect.
He has OCD.
How have I not noticed this before? I sit still as I think, I know his house is immaculate, as is his car and his clothing. Hell, the man couldn’t be more perfect if he tried.
