“It’s not the simple, and you know it,” I breathe, my toes curling as his fingers expertly play my clit.
“Or maybe it is?” He continues rubbing, stroking, teasing. My legs shake and my back arches.
“Reed,” I barter, I pant, I beg. “Please, Reed,” I try again.
“Come on my fingers, let me show you what you could have every single night, hmm?” he croons. “I would make them understand that we’re soulmates, Viv. I would make them see.”
Squeezing my eyes closed, I reach back, finding his cock with my hand. I stroke him as he makes me come, my orgasm hot and fast, pulsing through me in shuddering waves. I twistin his arms, and bring his fingers to my mouth, tasting myself again, because I like tasting how he makes me feel, and I know he likes watching me taste myself, too.
And then I make use of our big mattress, settling between his legs as I slip his cock into my mouth. Touching me, whispering naughty things to me, dreams of what we could have–it’s been his foreplay, an aphrodisiac so powerful that the second pass of my tongue around his crown has his spine curling, his stomach knotting, curses falling from his lips.
Reed comes after less than a minute in my mouth, hard, fast, filling my mouth with an abundance of warm, salty come. I swallow it, because the idea of spitting anything out that came from Reed seems wrong. When I sit up, he’s smirking shyly.
“College guys should have more stamina than that,” I tell him, reaching out to tug his glasses down his nose. I bring them to my face, slipping them on, the world growing a little fuzzy behind the lenses.
“Being in the mouth of the woman I love, the same woman who has my baby inside of her—psh, I feel proud I made it thirty seconds,” he teases. I tug off his glasses, because I don’t want to waste a moment of our last night together with a single piece of him blurry.
“You looked hot in those,” he tells me, slipping them back on.
“You look hot in them too.” I stroke a finger down his chest, playing with his softening cock in my other hand. “See, calling you hot feels wrong. It’s more than that.”
Reed playfully grins. “Is that right?”
I nod, wishing Murray didn’t pop into my mind at thatmoment, because Murray is a good guy. He doesn’t deserve to be compared to Reed. It’s unfair. Apples and oranges. But still, I look down at Reed, beautiful features, the electric touch, a brain like my father’s, a soul full of goodness— “you’re so much more,” I decide on, still touching him even though he’s soft. I want to touch all of him, experience him in all forms.
His eyes glitter, and it takes me a moment to realize they’re wet. All forms of Reed are beautiful, and that’s what I wanted. But the look of hurt shining in his eyes cuts deep, deeper than I wanted to feel.
“So are you.”
I smile, and lie down next to him, curling into his side, stroking my hand along the chiseled definitions of his muscle. “Should we go to sleep now? I know it means the end, but sleeping and waking up together— I’ve always wanted that.” I wish we could do it more than one night– but I don’t say that. Why add salt to the wound?
He presses his lips into my hairline.
“Sleep with you sounds perfect.”
We fall quiet, but I don’t know when either of us actually go to sleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Reed
“Reed,” Elijah says. Outstretching his arm to me. He pulls me into a hug, patting the center of my back firmly. “How’s the new apartment?” His brows lift, and he taps my chest with his pointer finger. “Your mom is so happy you are coming home for family dinner. She’s really missed you.”
I nod. “I know. I feel bad I haven't been back until now. It's just– I’m just trying to adjust to starting a new life, outside of Bipal.”
Elijah smiles. “You were never the guy that needed to be a Lancaster, and I respect the hell out of you for it.”
Guilt consumes me. While on one hand, Elijah isn’t wrong in that I’ve never needed to flaunt or boast that I’m a Lancaster heir, nor have I needed to let people know that I come from money. Being a smart, good person has been what I’ve been about, because it’s what my dad taught me.
But the guilt is there, potent as ever, because the reason I haven’t been back home since moving out eight months ago is because I’m weak. Too weak to see her. To see them. And the incredibly happy life they’ve started.
Only now, I received an internship abroad, and I’m leaving in a month. Family dinner kills two birds with one stone. A check in with my family, and letting them know that next month at this time I’ll be living in Germany, working for a startup. Elijah of all people will understand.
With his hand between my shoulder blades, he guides me to the kitchen, noise brimming from the closed door. My stomach twists. I’ve seen photos. I’ve received cards. I’ve ignored texts and phone calls. Still, I am largely unprepared for what I’m walking in on.
This is it, Reed. You get through this one evening and you’re free from all of this pain. This one dinner and you’re done.
Elijah pushes the door open, exposing Murray, Vivienne and their daughter sitting at the table, the baby’s round cheeks pink, slobber on her chin.
