Nectar (Nectar 1)

“Bite me, Tristan. Please,” she whispered. She grabbed his shoulders and then raked her fingers up the back of his neck until they caught in his hair. He obliged and as he drank from her throat, she detonated into an instant sweet climax, feeling fire spread through her. She felt protected, felt safe, felt connected to him somehow. She was so relaxed, so light and airy. She floated on a cloud; he was the cloud. After he climaxed he stayed inside of her, holding her, and she started to drift off to that place between sleep and being awake, and just floated.

Then, after a long time, she could hear his phone buzzing. She didn’t know where it was coming from but it started to pull her out of wherever she was, back to here and now. He ignored the phone and kept stroking and massaging her back and arms. It kept buzzing. Finally, she tensed. She pulled back and looked at him. He blinked a few times like he, too, was coming back from somewhere else.

She couldn’t fathom what that emotional meltdown was about but all she wanted throughout it was him, to hold her tight, to keep whispering in her ear, she wanted to feel him, to smell him, to get inside of him. She’d never felt such an intense outpouring of emotion in her entire life. Never grabbed on this tight to anyone before. Never felt so safe, never felt a sense of belonging like she did right now. When he drank from her it was like he was inside of her in every way, like she could feel inside of him. It didn’t make any sense whatsoever but it felt so amazing. ‘This is it’, he’d said. This was what, though? Had she fallen under his spell?

He let go of her, except for one hand, which rested on her stomach, and leaned over toward the floor and fished his phone out of his jeans pocket. He stared at the screen for a split second, then he dropped the phone on the floor carelessly and reached for her again. He pulled her to his side and wrapped his arm around her, her head fell onto his shoulder.

I have totally lost my ever-loving mind. I can’t believe I begged him to bite me.

He stroked her hair, staring at the ceiling. She studied his face, wondering what he was thinking. Finally, she rolled off to the side and balanced on her elbow and planted her head on her palm. She broke the silence, “Tristan?”

He smiled at her and touched her face, showing dimples.

“Hi,” he whispered and his eyes sparkled.

“Hi,” she said shyly, catching her bottom lip with her teeth.

He touched her lips with his.

She felt joy bubble up inside her, “I’m staaarving,” she whispered shyly and then inexplicably pressed her lips to his chin.

Tristan kissed her on the bridge of her nose and then snapped up to a sitting position, “As you should be. I can remedy that. 20 minutes.” He got out of bed like a man with a mission and speedily got into his jeans, commando. She watched the muscles ripple on his stomach, his arms, and his legs.

He left the room and she flopped back onto the pillows. While he was gone she just laid there feeling peaceful, relaxed, her mind almost blank. She knew it was odd but for once didn’t want to prod deeper, talked herself out of delving deeper. She just laid there enjoying a feeling of weightlessness and euphoria; it was as if she’d been drugged.

The ceiling fan above her sent a gentle breeze over her skin and she absorbed the sensation amid the cool sheets. The phone buzzed again and she looked down at the floor. It was ringing with the name ‘Dawn’. She ignored it until it stopped buzzing.

Two missed calls from Dawn? Who was Dawn?

She curled back into the covers and let her mind wander to where she could see his dimples, feel his strong hands, feel his eyelashes tickle her cheek, his stubble tickle her inner thighs. She felt butterflies, Jell-O knees; a goofy grin spread across her face and made her cheeks hurt. She ignored the nagging little voice telling her to get a grip. She didn’t want to analyze things, for a change. Didn’t want to get a grip. Wanted to feel this. It felt so good to just… float.

He was soon back, with arms full. He placed a steaming bowl of pasta on the table and fetched the bottle of wine from under his arm and put it on the table. He opened the drapes further. It was now dark but her eyes were adjusted well enough that she could see what he was doing. He fiddled with things at the long dresser and produced two glasses and a corkscrew from one of the cupboards below. Kyla climbed out of bed with the top sheet and draped it around her nakedness and padded to the bathroom.