He pulls my chin with his thumb, parting my mouth further, opening to me and licks in discovery as I wrap what I can of myself around him.
Slick with need, I squeeze my thighs together as he teases me, drawing me further into him. He does this over and over, dizzying me to the point of insanity. At his mercy, I wrap around him as he kisses me, and kisses me, his tongue sweeping me into this moment with him, erasing every line we’ve drawn. When he pulls back and gazes down at me with hooded eyes, it’s not lust that has me gasping.
It’s the truth he lets me see. No amount of lies or contradictory actions on his part can ever take this away. He dips again and takes my mouth, a confession on his tongue, and I meet him kissing him back, telling my own.
And it’s then I allow myself to fall, further and further into the biggest secret of my life. A secret I’ve known longer than I will ever admit.
I’m falling in love with my enemy.
So be it.
Our tongues tangle in the most erotic and passionate of dances. Eyes closed, I savor the affection and clutch him to me, drinking, consuming as he feeds my starving heart. He answers every question I’ve ever had, with each sure stroke of his tongue, and brush of his fingertips.
I don’t need words or promises. His kiss makes them irrelevant.
Hunger rumbles low, and with every thorough brush of his tongue, I become more ravenous to expose everything we’ve hidden beneath our thin veil of hate.
He bends lifting the hem of my sundress, and I extend my arms above my head and keep them raised as he pulls the material off, leaving me completely naked in the middle of the sun-soaked garden.
His eyes explore me from head to foot running fingers along my skin, his palms covering me in his reverent touch, an apology for all the violent touches before. A tear drips from my chin and he whisks it away with his tongue before sweeping me into his arms and setting me on the lounger. Wordlessly, he pulls off his shirt and boxers between kisses. Shaded by a canopy of wisteria, I drink him in, as we exchange one kiss for another, the next more intoxicating than the one before it. He pulls away, gazing down at me, his palms caressing the top of my head with a gentle sweep.
“Why, why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” I rasp out, utterly helpless to the emotion he’s stirring within me.
“C’était trop demander.” It was too much to ask.
He stares down at me, hands roaming over every inch of flesh within his reach, his eyes and lips worshiping, his heart pounding against mine, demanding acknowledgment. The kiss turns fevered as our mouths call a truce and begin to make promises we can never speak because if we do, we will no longer be enemies.
But in glimpses of his fiery depths, all of it’s gone; his contempt, his judgment, his anger, his resentment, all of it replaced with tenderness, longing, and blatant need. He slides his warm hand down my stomach before pressing thick fingers inside me. Every brush of his lips causes eruptions throughout my chest and all over my body.
Our visual connection remains unbroken as he moves to hover above me. Cradling him between my legs, I cup his jaw. Once he’s readied me, he lines us up and without hesitation, pushes his length into me, claiming me fully. Flattening his chest to mine, he drives in further, and I lose every ounce of my breath. His cock is rooted so deep, I’ll never be able to forget the way he feels.
He grinds into me, burrowing further, embedding himself as he peers down at me, eyes beseeching, begging me not to look away, to accept him, to accept us, and our fate. He pushes my knees apart further before he slowly, so slowly, begins to move.
My world shifts as he gently rolls his hips, his gaze never wavering as I take all of him in, while he brands my body, a declaration, a possession.
It’s belonging I feel with every slow thrust, every kiss, every look, every breath that passes between us.
We let ourselves go, our mouths molding with the perfect exchange, moaning and gasping at the way I fit him, and the way he fills me so completely. His lovemaking is ecstasy in the purest form. I shudder in his arms, in the completion.
Pulling him tighter to me, I cry out as he surges into me, his mouth covering the whole of my breast, his teeth grazing my nipple as he rears back and drives in again, hitting the end of me over and over, purposefully staking his claim.
“Je ne peux pas aller assez loin.” I can’t get deep enough.
With every slow thrust of his tongue, every possessive push of his hips, he damns us, the confession in his eyes narrating our story, our ill-fated fortune as star-crossed fools, sharing a merciless love neither of us can ever deny, but can never keep.
On the brink, I break our kiss, look him in the eyes and call out his name as the rush overtakes me. It’s the sound of his name coming from my lips that sends him over, and I feel him pulsate just before he buries himself and pours into me.
Bodies slick, he burrows deeper, a thin veil of sweat covering him as he trembles in my hold, emotion shining in his eyes, twisting his features. He’s completely exposed and lets me see him in his most vulnerable state, and I’ve never seen anything so perfect.
He presses his forehead to mine, as we share several collective breaths. I stroke his back with my fingers as some of the high disappears
from his eyes, and the truth sets in. He dips to kiss me, and I feel him start to retreat as my heart begins to sink with the weight of our secret.
When he pulls away, the loss rips me apart as I hold in a sob, and he turns from me to sit on the edge of the lounger, his shoulders sagging forward, stretching the wings along his muscular back.
The sight of the bond he made with his brothers draws tight. It’s there, the answer, the reason for our beginning and the reason for our end—a bond made from love. A timeless bond a different love could never break. A bond that exists with his brothers and his reason for being.
He can never choose me.