Page 56 of These Eternal Bones

Brand New Pretty Purple Flower

Die with a Smile - Lady Gaga I hadn’t thought that possible a moment ago.

I suck but it’s nowhere near enough. My stomach is burning now, on fire. I cry out, my hands digging into the voice’s owner. He groans, making a pleased sound. I want him to stop. Doesn’t he understand it isn’t enough? Panic claws at my chest .

His hand is cupping the back of my head, and he pushes me harder into him, just a little, like he’s coaxing me to do something, but I-I can’t. My mind is swirling, and my body…

No, my body doesn’t feel right.

I suck harder, whimpering in frustration. My mouth opens wider, my teeth scraping the icy surface, cold, but…soft. It gives under the pressure of my teeth.

I bite, and it's only then that I realize the voice and the thing I’m drinking from are one and the same. I don’t worry about that because this feels right . It feels like everything I need, and my body finally unwinds, my muscles relaxing as I take mouthful after mouthful.

The owner of the voice likes this a lot, although I’m not sure how I can tell, aside from the fact that he’s letting me do it. I feel like he could stop me if he needed to.

“My syringa,” he whispers.

Syringa?

My mind offers a purple, sweet-smelling flower. That makes no sense, so I ignore it, hoping he’ll be quiet. His voice is soft, but everything else is so loud. Soon enough, the pain in my stomach stops too. I don’t feel quite so thirsty when that dark, quiet place envelopes me again.

I go willingly.

My eyes snap open before I shut them, going slower this time, giving them a moment to adjust to the sunlight. Sunlight?

My eyes fall to an open window, the smell of spring and the coming rain on the breeze as soft, wispy curtains blow inside the room, upsetting thousands of dust particles.

My attention gets stuck on them as they swirl and dance together.

The muscles in my arm are tight as I unfurl it from where it was tucked underneath my chest. I mean to press it into the sunlight, but I get stuck staring at my palm.

All the tiny, delicate lines coating my skin.

They’re black, but faintly so. I’m cold, lying on my stomach, blankets tucked around me.

Cold, but not uncomfortably so. Something moves over my legs, wrapping around me.

I push myself up on my elbows, finding myself free from aches and pains, although my stomach feels painfully empty.

My eyes land on a man behind me, and oh–

He’s beautiful .

The things splaying across my flesh are silken ropes of crimson.

They belong to him as he stands shirtless at the foot of the grand four postered bed.

My eyes make a slow track, from the deep V at his tapered waist, disappearing behind low hanging pants.

Defined muscles building onto severe cuts of flesh, a strong jaw, and cheekbones that look as lethal as him.

His black hair is tied half up, leaving some to tickle the tops of his broad shoulders, the rest knotted and speared with a hairpin.

It’s his eyes I find next, dark, monoid, and he’s–

My gaze shifts down to my wrist. The darkened veins there are a lighter, more delicate version of his. The spring air blows in again, mixing with spice and cedar, making my mouth water. “Hello, syringa.”

Syringa.

Is that my name?

His tendrils ease over my flesh, adoring and soft.

I almost giggle when they tickle at my neck, digging my teeth into my bottom lip until I gasp in pain.

They dug in far further than they should have.

I lick my lips, the taste of something bitter but not unpleasant on my tongue, so I lick them again, gathering more.

The man’s eyes track the movement with rapt interest. My copper-colored hair shifts over my shoulder as I roll onto my back, realizing belatedly I’m nude.

With him.

But why ?

I rack myself for the reason and come up empty before he takes my attention again.

A few strands have fallen into his eyes as he leans onto the bed, crowding me.

I want to push them out of the way, to press the silky strands between my fingers.

I bet that would feel nice. My eyes slip to the tenting bulge in his pants, my thighs pressing together as I shift back against the headboard.

He follows, but I suppose I’m not trying to get away.

Why?

He shifts his head, regarding me. “You’re stunning.”

My lips part, my cheeks flushing, but…the temperature feels off. Muted.

His hand captures my chin, his tendrils easing their eager exploration of my body. “Usually I do this differently, but my apologies this time I fear I cannot wait.”

His lips slam into mine, and the world tilts out of focus, my mind reeling as our tongues swirl, tease, and clash.

It’s a hunger that hits me all at once, a need that builds deep in my gut.

He obliges me; I have a feeling he does that often.

I have a feeling he’d give me anything I wanted, that I need only ask.

Currently, all I require is him.

The fabric of his pants rips under my tugging, although I hadn’t meant to do that.

A soft gasp leaves my throat as his arms band around me, lifting me onto his lap.

His thick cock is weeping, heavy with the same need as me.

My lips find his again as I notch it at my entrance.

My body thrumming with anticipation, my inner walls clenching as I slip it inside, moaning as it sinks in deep, filling me so tightly.

More, I need more.

He seems to understand, his mouth leaving mine, his tendrils gently snagging my head to tilt it down at the place we’re connected.

I watch, panting as he lifts me before sliding back in.

My nipples rub against his chest, and I’m all sensation.

My body feels things in vivid clarity. He keeps up that rhythm, slow and languid.

The ridges of his cock hitting me in such a way that my legs quiver, and I cry out.

When he bends, sucking my nipple into his mouth, it's everything. Nirvana.

It's right.

This man.

This place.

It's all perfect.

Something warm nudges deep inside my chest, and I can tell he feels the same.

He’s happy, so happy, but also…sad. I frown, wanting to know why, but he swirls his tongue around the pebbled nub and quickens his pace.

It’s never punishing, although I feel like it could be, like I’d like that too.

He lets me take him in, rolling my hips to grind my clit against the base of him.

His touch soft and adoring, reverent. His lips dancing across every inch of me.

It's then that he bends, kissing my breast, that my eyes focus on his neck, my mouth filling with water.

The need to bite.

To drink.

“Yes, my love. Drink. It's okay, take what you need.”

I don’t hesitate. My teeth sink into his neck, making him buck against me as mouthfuls of spice and cedar dance over my tongue.

My pace quickens, but I’m a whimpering mess.

He has to help me. His hands band around my back, holding me flush as I drink, his hips rocking up into me.

I’m not ready when my body tightens, exploding into a million fracturing lights.

I’m sure of it, I’ve collapsed into pleasure, a being no longer tethered to this earth, but after I pull free from his neck, I find myself whole.

I watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he follows me over that edge, somehow making me even more full than I was before.

My eyes flutter back in my head as another orgasm rises through me, our foreheads meeting as we ride out the pleasure.

His lips press into my nose with the softest kiss. “I love you.”

My eyes flutter to his as I lick his blood from my lips. I know he means it. I don’t doubt it for a second.