Come to me

“Elle, do you want more tea?” Ute asked, as Elle starred absently at the kitchen wall. Her empty cup was forgotten in her hand. She could not shake the vile scent of burnt flesh from her mind, and she shuttered, dropping the cup. Milo caught it with deft fingers, placing it on the counter. She blinked, and looked up at his concerned face.

“What?” She asked, dazed. 

“My mother wanted to know if you wanted tea,” Milo told her, tilting his head examining her, the worry evident on every line of his face.

“Oh,” She whispered, looking away, staring at the wall again, “No…no tea.” 

Ute and Max exchanged a look, but neither spoke. Milo had not taken his eyes from her wane face. The dark circles under her eyes and the pallid tone of her normally glowing skin evidence of the rough night she’d had. That they’d both had. She was clad in one of his hoodies, wearing an old pair of Naomi’s pajama bottoms, that she’d had to fold down several times and tie tightly to fit her. Her short hair had dried into shiny messy curls, glossy little spikes framing her exhausted face. She looked even more delicate and petite than normal, fragile even, sitting unsteadily at the island counter. 

“Elle, do…do you want something to eat.” Milo asked her gently, she glanced at him again before shaking her head no. Back to staring at the wall, she fidgeted with her hands absently for a few moments. Suddenly she pulled at the collar of the hoodie, her face contorting, before she gagged violently. Jumping from the counter, she ran for the sink, Milo behind her, she dry heaved, pressing her shaking hands to her mouth, she pounded the counter by the sink with her fist. Composing herself she seemed to realize that she wasn’t alone, feeling everyone's eyes on her. 

“Are you alright?” Max asked, as Milo rubbed her back soothingly. 

“I...I’m not feeling well.” She managed after a moment, “I think I’ll go back to bed.” She mumbled, walking away haphazardly. Milo moved to follow her, but Max stopped him, with a hand to his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with her?” Max asked in Dutch, concerned.

“She..didn’t sleep well,” Milo replied, following her with his eyes. 

“Why does she smell fire…and burning?” Ute asked her son in Dutch, tilting her head as she sipped her tea.

“What?!” Max asked, bewildered and horrified.

“She dreamed…she burnt.” Milo told Ute,feeling sick just repeating it.  “She...can still smell it?”

“That's all I see and smell in here now,” Ute told him, her face disgusted. “I can’t imagine what’s happening in her head right now,”

“Fuck,” He groaned, “How do I help her?” 

“You can’t,” Ute told him, “But, I don’t think going back to bed is the solution, she needs a distraction.”

“Take her swimming,” Max offered, both Ute and Milo turned to look at him confused. “It’s the opposite of burning,” He said, shrugging.

“Actually…that’s a good idea,” Milo agreed, surprised.

“Why are you always surprised when I say something smart?” Max hissed at his twin. Milo arched an eyebrow at him.

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” Ute offered. 

****

Elle sat quietly in her hiding spot. She had a book in her hands, but hadn’t been able to read a single word. She felt…off. The scent and remembrance of the dream had dissipated somewhat, at least it no longer felt like it had been her that had burned. But of course…it had been her that burned. It had been her that had gladly freely, with open joy actually, jumped into a funeral pyre…his funeral pyre. 

Elle was beyond the point of denial, these dreams…were not dreams they were memories and she was beginning to realize that they were becoming more and more intense. Pressing her hands to temples, she closed her eyes and tried to think back, had she ever had dreams this intense, this..real? No she was certain she had not. As a child she dreamed a lot, and she had frequently dreamt about Aiden, had actually developed quite the attraction to redheaded men. Her first kiss had been a cute ginger with silver blue eyes in fact, she smiled despite her predicament at the memory. He was such a sweet kid, but alas they’d had absolutely no chemistry. 

But she couldn’t recall having any dreams about the rest of the macabre cast of characters she was ‘remembering’ now…she didn’t think at least. Maybe flashes of glorious hazel eyes, with blues and greens and golds…yes she remembered a sweet salacious dream she’d had in her teens where Aiden’s eyes had been changed from silvery blue to hazel, and a vague remembrance of mahogany hair with streaks of gold…maybe? Her head started to hurt as she tried to isolate her memories. There might even have been a dream or two about a beautiful blond viking looking woman, who had kissed her with such fierceness…but that might have been because she had become mildly obsessed with Lagertha from the show vikings…giving up she sighed. Had Elle been steadily dreaming these memories over the years and had just forgotten? They were proving impossible to forget now! 

She shuttered remembering the feel of the flames against her skin. She didn’t want these memories…

“Hi,” Milo said softly, drawing her from her thoughts. She blinked in surprise to find him before her. “Is this where you go when you disappear?” 

“Just reading,” She told him, holding up her book. “Finding privacy is a bit hard here.”  

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked her softly, say no…please say no.

“No, but…I don’t want to talk about last night.” She told him finally, not really wanting to be alone. “Come sit with me,”

“I don’t think we will both fit on this bench,” He said, glancing at the flimsy decorative bench, “But I have a place you might like instead, somewhere you can have privacy when you need, that isn’t outside.” Holding his hand out for her.

“Okay,” She agreed, sliding her small hand into his much larger one. He closed his fingers around hers, twining them as he led her toward the brick building. As they walked he gently pulled her closer toward him by her hand, she smiled despite herself at the move, easing herself beside him. 

Milo watched her covertly as he led them to their destination, he noted with some relief that she had more color to her cheeks than earlier, and she seemed more at ease. A tendril of her short hair blew against her cheek, and she awkwardly used her left hand to push it from her face rather than release his hand from her right. The small gesture heartened him, because he too was reluctant to let her go. It was strange how something as simple as holding hands had come to mean so much to him when it was done with her.  When they arrived at the double doors at the front of the brick building underneath the pool area, he came to a stop. 

Elle glanced at him confused. He reached into this pocket and pulled out a set of keys, still holding her hand he unlocked the doors with his right hand, awkwardly. 

“Are you lefthanded?” She asked as he unlocked the door. He turned to look at her, surprised that it hadn’t come up before this.

“Yes,” He said.

“Then why would you hold my right hand?” She questioned, “Next time you should hold my left, that way we can both use our dominant hands.” 

“Next time I’ll remember that,” He agreed, grinning at her. Next time…assuming I ever let your hand go to begin with. He pushed the doors open, moving out of her way and behind her allowing her to take in the sight before her. Elle gasped as she looked, now she released his hand and all but vaulted into the building, spinning around her mouth agape. Because every single square inch of space was filled top to bottom with shelves upon shelves of books. From the bottom of the hardwood floors all the way to the top of the vaulted ceilings. There was a skylight that provided beautiful natural light and directly beneath it in the center was a large barrister style desk, and a large padded bench, resplendent with cushions and pillows facing it. She turned to face him, her face alight with joy and awe, his own gaze locked on her face, watching her, as if she were the most priceless thing in here. 

Without thought, Elle wrapped her arms around his neck, and rose to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He responded immediately, drawing her closer, his hand cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. She clung to him, feeling her knees go weak. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him, bracing her weight against his powerful body. Elle’s heart pounded, she wanted to touch him so badly, to run her hands down his hard chest, to rasp her nails against his skin. Elle drew her hand down his torso, feeling him shiver at the touch, he gasped in surprise as she slid her hand up his shirt, pressing her palm against the hard muscles of his lower stomach, just above his belt line. She felt the muscles spasm under her touch, as she ran her finger tips down to the edge of his pants. As if desperate for her, his arm around her tightened, groaning against her lips, he bent her head back with the force of his kiss. 

She felt his big hands sliding down her body, as he grasped the generous curve of her ass, hoisting her up toward him, she spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist, feeling the heat of him through her flimsy borrowed pajama bottoms as if she were wearing nothing at all. She gasped against his lips as she felt his hardness at her core. Helplessly she drew her hips up and down, rubbing herself against him, he growled, driving his hips hard into her. His tongue thrust in time with his hips pressing against her, delicious friction against her most sensitive spots. Elle went soft against him, moaning with pleasure at the contact, she broke the kiss, trailing her lips against his jaw, down his throat, to his racing pulse point, she flicked the tip of her tongue there. He groaned in pleasure at the touch. He reached behind them and shut the door, and still holding her, carried her to the bench. 

With infinite tenderness and care, he gently laid her down on the bench, moving cushions and pillows under her head and back, before he carefully followed her down. Holding himself above her on his forearms, he looked at her with such raw adoration and desire it made her breath catch, as he slowly bent his head down to run his lips against hers again, and again, never increasing the pressure, until she thought she would go mad if he didn’t grind his mouth against hers, she speared her fingers into this hair, and tried to pull him to her, but he resisted, and when she looked at him in frustration she saw the slow sexy knowing smile on his face…he was teasing her. She growled in frustration.

“Tell me what you want,” He whispered against her lips, “Ask me to kiss you harder, ask me to touch you Elle, tell me what you want me to do.” Sexy sinful tease! I want you to do everything to me!!  She thought darkly.  

“Kiss…kiss me harder,” She managed, panting with desire, he smiled against her lips, nipping her bottom one lightly. 

“Where?” He asked her, brushing his lips against hers, increasing the pressure only slightly, “Here?” He asked, moving his lips down from her lips to her jaw, he nipped her there as well, “Here?” He growled as he trailed down her neck, to her collarbone. His big hand trailed up and down her body, making eye contact with her, he moved his hand to her breast, cupping her there, through the layers of her teeshirt and his hoodie. She gasped, feeling her nipples harden as if yearning to be in the palm of his hand. “Here?” He rasped, his hand trembling slightly as if he too could feel her aching buds…because he could! She realized with a start, she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her clothes; hadn’t cared when she had been idly changing in the bathroom last night. She looked up at him, her pupils dilated shaking with want.

“I…I want you to kiss me…everywhere.” She told him. He blinked as he looked at her, clearly a little surprised, a slow smile crossed his handsome face. 

“I have to see you to be able to do that,” He told her, “Take this off for me, schatje” He said tugging at the hem of the hoodie. He lifted from her and Elle readily complied, all but ripping it from herself and throwing to the side. She was clad in one of his teeshirts, her straining nipples all the more visible. His hot gaze fell to her there, he ran his tongue against his lips, blatant in his intention and desire. 

“Wait…wait!” She called, as he started to pull the teeshirt from her.

“What?” He asked, blinking confused. 

“Take your shirt off,” She commanded, “I want…I want your skin against mine.” He growled under his breath, as he drew his arms behind him and pulled his shirt from his muscular torso, over his head and flung it across the room. The muscles of his chest and shoulders rippled, as he moved to cover her with his body again. She could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of the shirt, as he moved against her, the rasp of the shirt dragging against her sensitive aching nipples, she cried out in pleasure. 

“This needs to come off.” He intoned, sliding the edge of the shirt up her flat stomach. “I want your skin against me, NOW.”  Elle lifted herself up to help him as he undressed her. Shivering as his fingertips and knuckles slid against her. His breath caught in surprise as he bared her naked breasts to himself, gently he placed his hand flat to her breast bone and lightly pressed her back into the cushions. He gazed at her with awe and wonder, taking in the sight of her torso. Her perfect honey brown breasts, lighter here than the skin of her arms and belly, as if the sun had never touched her here, her nipples were chocolatey and perfectly formed, begging for his mouth upon them. Her breasts were large enough to fill his big hands, uptilted and with delicate blue green veins pressing against the skin. Her tiny ribcage sloped into her small waist, and flared down to her generous hips. Her stomach flat with just the hint of womanly softness at her lower belly, exactly how he preferred. “Oh Elle,” He whispered reverently, “Je bent zo mooi, zo voortreffelijk.”

“Don’t speak dutch, you’re going to have to translate that for me,” She whispered, tentatively. He looked at her as if he were unable to believe he could. He gave a hoarse laugh, as he looked at her face.

“You are so beautiful, so exquisite,” He translated, “I am…searching for words to express your perfection, and there are no words in the many languages I know to describe you, Elle, you make me speechless.”  He ran the knuckles of his shaking left hand down her neck, easing it over her collarbone oh so slowly, down the side of one of her lovely breasts, closing in toward her nipple. Closer and closer, please, please,  Elle groaned internally, willing him to run his knuckle against her there, before sliding it away, down to the underside of her breast. Elle exhaled her held breath in frustration, trembling at his careful sensuous touch, as he ran his hand down her belly, stopping short of the line of her pants. The muscles of her abdomen clenched.

She chanced a glance at his face, and saw his knowing smile, this asshole is teasing me! Now?!  

“Just…I…Fuck,” She growled in frustration. He tilted his head glancing at her, arching an eyebrow. 

“Ask me for what you want, Elle,” He rasped, his voice low and tumultuous with his own desire. “Tell me to touch you where you want, ask me to put my mouth on you, ask me to taste your aching little buds, to run my tongue over your beautiful, godverdomme perfect nipples, ask me to suck you there.” 

“You…you want me to…beg?” She asked, shaking with desire. 

“I want you to put us both out of our misery, before I beg you for the privilege of touching you here, of putting my mouth on you, I want to know you want me as much as I want you, schatje.” He told her, his own voice gone hoarse, she locked her eyes with his, seeing his raging desire for her, the uncertainty she had missed before. 

“You…you don’t think I want you as much as you want me?!” She asked incredulously. As if in answer he ground his hips against her, so she could feel his erection against her like a steel rod, she gasped, as his intense eyes locked hers.

“I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you, Ik ben wanhopig, verloren, uit mijn gedachten voor jou!” I am desperate, lost, out of my mind for you! He whispered to her, never taking his eyes from her. 

“Dutch…again.” She hissed at him, half out of her mind.

“I…I am not sure I want you to understand that, “ He told her laughing brokenly, “Woman if you knew the power you had over me…” 

“I want you to touch my breasts, I want you to put your mouth on me…I fucking want you so much!” She growled at him, “I want you even though it makes no fucking sense, even when the self preservation in me tells me to run, I fucking want you, so stop toying with me Milo, please…please just…touch me god damn it!” 

He didn’t have to be told twice, he dropped his head to her chest, kissing against her breast bone, lightly abrading her there with his stubbled cheek, as he trailed down to her breast. She moaned in pleasure, as she felt his lips capture her nipple, his tongue flicking out to taste her there. She arched her back to draw him closer, his hand cupping her other breast, kneading her gently. When he drew her into his mouth and began to suck her with firm pressure, Elle speared her fingers through his hair holding him against her, as she whimpered in rapture. And when his thumb grazed back and forth against her other nipple, Elle cried out, writhing against his thick straining shaft pressed between her legs. 

He lifted his head abruptly, looking into her wide startled eyes his own hooded with sensation as she undulated against him. 

“If you keep doing that Schatje…” he groaned, “I…you will make me lose it, before I even get to see all of you,” He grasped her hip with one of his big hands and held her still. 

“Is…is that what you want? Do you want to see…me?” She asked, her pupils blown, aroused past rational thought.

“Of course that’s what I fucking want, but…but that is an incredibly stupid thing for us to do.” He warned.

“Why?” She growled.

“The…the reasons are a bit hard to grasp at the moment,” He admitted, staring at her trembling beautiful body. “But…I…I have no way of protecting us, and I want you too much to be able to not finish.”

“Is…are you saying you don’t have condoms?” She asked, trying to make her brain work when her body was all but screaming for her to roll the dice.

“Yes,” He told her, “So unless you are taking something, we have to keep our pants on,” 

“Not carefully enough to be sure…we won’t have an oopsy baby…” She said frustrated. He burst out laughing.

“I know my brain is no longer in the driver seat, because my cock is definitely screaming to roll the fucking dice,” He told her in between fits of frustrated laughter.

“I don’t suppose…in the house? In…your room?” She offered, hopefully. He shook his head.

“I’ve…not ever brought anyone here… there’s never been a need.” He told her, “Seemed a bit presumptuous when I went to get groceries to get them.” 

“Next time…” She breathed, he blinked in shock staring at her.

“I could not possibly have heard you correctly…” He said to her, stunned.

“Next time, buy the fucking condoms Milo,” She repeated. 

“Next time,” He agreed. 

“This time though,” She whispered, “This time, I’m going to keep my pants on, but…but you’re not.” 

“What?” He asked, certain he’d misheard her.

“Take your pants off,” She demanded, “I want to see you, touch you, and taste you, and you are going to oblige me.” 

“I…Okay.” He said, sitting back on his haunches, she scrambled out from under him.

“You lay back now,” She told him, placing her hands against his chest, giving him a light push, he allowed her to direct him, laying back on the bench where she had been. Then she straddled him, a wild sexy smile on her face. Carefully, she undid his pants, he lifted his hips to help her, as she pulled them down his body. Next she moved his boxers out of the way, his cock sprang free, and Elle…stared at it,  well fuck…that’s just…She blinked as his length distended further, she looked up at him mouth agape. Grower and a fucking show-er? How am I even going to manage this…

“Elle…?” He asked uncertainly, her expression was a cross between awe and…horror. Definitely not the way I want the woman of my fucking dreams to be looking at my dick… 

“You…are…” She tried to find words, looking at his face, a crooked smile on hers. She wrapped her hand around his length, he hissed in a breath at the touch, she couldn’t close her hand around his shaft, and she blew out a breath. “This is…going to be a challenge.” She managed.

“A challenge?” He asked, dazed and trying to grasp what she was saying, as her hand began to slide up and down his length slowly. He gritted his teeth at the pleasure of her soft palm against him.

“I don’t know if you’ve…compared yourself…but…this” She said giving him a light tug, a groan escaped his lips, “This is…not exactly average.” 

“I...I have not exactly done a dick measuring contest no…” He agreed, “Isn’t…isn’t bigger supposed to be better?” He ground out, his head falling back, at her exquisite touch.

“Theoretically…” She agreed, “I…I feel like….this might hurt.” His head snapped up and he speared her with a horrified expression.

“I...I would never want to hurt you,” He told her, looking lost now. “We…we don’t have to do that, ever.” She tilted her head, and arched an eyebrow at him, surprised at his response.

“The more…ready I am the less likely it is to hurt,” She offered, “So I suppose we are just going to have to work each other up, really,” She grasped him firmly in her grip,”really,” Up and down, up and down “Really,” She slid down his body, her lips kissing his flat torso, “Really,” Nipping him above his hip bone, his body jerked up, his cock spasming in her hand, down, down, kissing the base of his shaft, before she ran her tongue up the side of it, to the large crown, stopping to run her tongue underneath it, his back arched and he cried out, “Really well,” She finished, running the tip of her clever tongue over the slit. He screamed out in pleasure, digging his fingers into the cushions underneath him to stop from grabbing her. 

“This…this sounds like a challenge…” He agreed. She smiled against him, before taking the crown into her mouth. “Fuck…fuck!” He groaned, his knees falling wide around her, giving her more access. “Je bent fucking me aan het vermoorden!!” You are fucking killing me!! He rasped, his whole body trembling. 

“Don’t know dutch, but I’m going to assume that was ‘Elle, please don’t stop, take more of me into your mouth please.’” She said saucily.

“Pretty…pretty fucking much…yes, please, take more…fuck,” He groaned out, caught between laughing and screaming.

“Milo,” She said, lifting her face to look at him, he just restrained himself from swearing.

“Yes…” He muttered, his shaking fist against his mouth, his teeth sinking into his knuckle. Now, now you want to chat?! You devil woman!

“This room is soundproof right?” She asked pleasantly, as if she wasn’t torturing him right now, with her hand idly sliding up and down, up and down his shaft, never with enough pressure to do more than tease the shit out of him.

“Yes…yes why?” He asked, trying to focus on what she was saying. She tilted her angel face at him, a deviously sweet smile on her clever, tricky little mouth.

“So when I make you scream, no one will hear you?” She asked, he blinked taken aback.

“Thats…that’s what you want schatje, you want to make me scream in the pleasure you wroth from me?” He asked her, sweat beading his forehead.

“Oh, fuck yes I do, I want you to scream, and scream, and fucking scream my name, so that any woman you’ve had do this,” She ran her hand up and down his shaft with more pressure, making him cry out, “Is wiped clean from your memory, forever.” Not a hard ask, little demoness, since you are the only woman who has ever touched me like this….

“I’ll give you whatever you want Elle, whatever you need from me, I’d never deny you, all you have to do is ask!” He told her, cupping her face in his hands. Elle frowned, an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu hitting her at his words. She blinked it away, focused back on the feast of sensations before her. But…for a second his eyes had flickered from ice blue to hazel, and back. 

Elle grasped him in her hand, and brought her mouth back to him, she ran the tip of her tongue against the slit again, he groaned deep in his chest, shaking. With careful precise movements she began flicking her tongue against it as she closed her lips around the crown, his hips surged up, he just barely caught himself from thrusting, and Elle smiled at that. She was making him crazy, frantic for her, and in turn she was becoming more and more aroused herself, she could feel her sex become wet, aching for contact. Slowly she drew her hand down into her borrowed pajamas, into her panties, and petted herself, she moaned around his shaft, taking more of him into her mouth. Sliding her hand up and down in time with her mouth.

“Let me watch you, lass,”  He demands, his brogue thick with desire, his big hand framing her face, “Oh Simrin, Mo’ Cridhe,” He breathes as he gazes at her with desire and adoration in his silver blue eyes. He has risen from his position on his back up onto his elbow, watching her take him for the first time. She levers her body down slowly, her knees wide as the large crown of his manhood breaches her, her core aching for more of him…

Elle gasped as she jerked back, looking up sharply, her sheath clenching around the ghost of the sensation…as if she had just been taking him into her body…Milo’s eyes flashed between ice blue and silver, his hair long and red, and then short and gold again. Elle’s heart pounded, exhilarated and disquieted. 

“What…what did you say?” She asked, dazed.

“Let me look at you, Schatje, let me watch you taste me,” He repeated, trembling with desire, “Did I say that in Dutch again?” He laughed, his eyes slitted in ecstasy.  Elle shook her head, harshly. Pushing all other thoughts aside, she set back to her task, taking him fully into her mouth, as far as she could, he bellowed, back bowing in pleasure. 

“Leah!” He gasps, looking up at her from between her legs, “You taste like honey and I,” He tells her, running his tongue over her sensitive flesh, “Can’t” another lick, “Get enough!” He growls against her. She’s gasping, arching, sure this is a sin, but unable to deny this beautiful man any part of her.  She spreads her legs even wider, her skirt already rucked up around her waist, he is kneeling before her inside the cab of his daddy’s carriage, she looks up, her shaking hands covering her face, looking around again to make sure they are all alone. The trees he has hidden the carriage among casting a green and yellow light over the both of them. 

And when he looks up at her, his dancing sea green eyes, as he climbs up grasping the nape of her neck pulling her down to kiss him, hard on his mouth, she forgets she’s supposed to care. She feels his fingers slide up her thighs, feels his thumb rub slow needy circles around her clitoris, her body shakes and trembles, as he penetrates her with his forefinger. She gasps, and he takes the sound into his mouth, carefully fitting another finger into her. 

“No one has ever been here,” He breathes, his fingers brushing her maidenhead, “I am your man Leah, and you are my woman, and this is mine!” 

Elle moaned, feeling Caleb’s fingers inside her, against her clit, no…not Caleb…no fingers… her heart pounding as her sheath spasms, on the edge of an orgasm. She takes more of Milo into her mouth, feeling him all the way at the back of throat.

 Golden hair frames her pleasure wroth face, the war paint still on. She gazes up at her, smiling against her trembling flesh, the warrior woman she loves completely helpless to her touch. She tastes of wine and fire, and she is ravening for her. Astrid my heart, my soul, she thinks desperately as she sets back upon her slick entrance. 

“Oh Lucia,” Astrid moans for her, undulating her hips for more of her clever little tongue, “Have a care my little witchling, we must be quick before anyone finds us,” She giggles, her deep sultry voice raw from battle cries, and now from the pleasure Lucia had wroth from her. As Astrid moves her knees further apart, she feels her hands drop to spear into her dark hair, holding her face firm to her sensitive womanhood. “Fuck….fuck finish me!” She groans, her voice breaking on her barely stifled moans.

His moans of pleasure, coupled with his deeply accented Dutch, as he cupped the side of her face, enough to drive her over the edge. She began to cum, hard, screaming around his cock, she felt him still as his breath became ragged and uneven, the sound and feel of her helpless screams of pleasure, sending him as well. His back bowed violently, trashing his head against the cushions, he tossed his arms over his head, grasping the armrest of the bench, to stop from grabbing her, lightly thrusting against her, cumming for her, screaming as she predicted, his throat raw from it at the end.

Finally spent, he collapsed back in a heap, unable to think, unable to move, his body limp in the wake of the most mind blowing pleasure he had ever felt. Her heated face laid against his thigh, gently he reached down and cupped her face, against him, caressing her cheek. 

“Ik zal hierna nooit meer de fucking dezelfde zijn” I will never fucking be the same after this. He breathed. And though Elle does not speak or understand Dutch, this sentence clearly rings in her head for a moment as if he had said it in English, and it is a sentiment she agreed with….

I will never fucking be the same after this…after you!

****

Elle lay over Milo, her head against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. He idly brushed the hair from her face as Elle drifted into sleep. Milo had righted his pants, but hadn’t bothered to find his shirt, and neither had Elle. Her skin pressed against his, was warm and silky soft, as he ran his hands soothingly up and down her back. He drew his hand up her neck, and brushed his knuckles against her face, sighing as he looked down at her. When her brows furrowed, her eyes darting behind her closed lids, his heart clenched in his chest, I can’t protect her from her own mind, from her own dreams, so what fucking use am I?! It didn’t help that he felt vaguely guilty for what had happened, though he absolutely did not regret it. The timing of it couldn’t have been worse, he recognized.

To say he had been thrown for a loop by the direction the day had taken was an understatement, not even in his wildest most fevered fantasies had he thought they would end up here with Elle having given him the most mind bending, back breaking, thought destroying orgasm of his adult life, and he having given her absolutely nothing…except maybe a complex about my dick…running an aggravated hand through his hair, he exhaled hard, frustrated. I am so fucking selfish! Max is right, I genuinely just tried comforting her with my cock…I deserve a hard slap. 

He looked down at her sleep relaxed face, and grimaced, she was so lovely, so fiery, so…perfect for him in every way. When he was around her he felt lighter, younger, so much more at peace. And when he touched her, it was like touching a live wire, he wanted her until he lost all reason. He was lost for her, he knew it, all rational thought out the window, it didn’t matter they had known each other for days, she was…everything. So why am I treating you like you are just some woman, when you are…MY woman? He ran the back of his hand down her shoulder, past her delicate wrist and entwined his fingers with hers, she clenched them in her sleep, gently he brought their linked hands up to his mouth and grazed his lips against the back of hers. 

“Je bent alles, je bent mijn vrouw en ik ga je alles geven wat je verdient.” You are everything, you are my woman and I’m going to give you everything you deserve. He whispered to her, her brows furrowed and he thought he heard her mumble something about ‘fucking dutch’ before her breathing once more became even and deep. He smiled secretively to himself.

****

Her screams can be heard from down the hall, and Hadeon can not possibly care less for her pain. But by all the gods did she have to make so much noise?! If it’s not her nighttime weeping, it’s her crowing about the bastard within her causing her discomfort. It’s all he can do not to have the thing cut from her and call it a day. If king Herodus hadn’t paid in gold, soldiers, land, and gods know what else to his brother, to let her deliver this abomination he might well have done just that. He knows full well Hadrian has no need for any of what he was given for this bastard, he knows this is his brother’s punishment for taking his time to collect her and allowing himself to be cuckolded. For allowing this humiliation to happen to himself and therefore the emperor, he must wear the product of her sin like a noose around his neck, and the idea of it rankles him past the point of fury. 

Gods damn her for doing this to him! Gods damn her for being a faithless, fickle whore! She should have known better than to give her virtue so freely, and if he indeed took her against her will as is claimed, she should have had the fortitude to take her life with honor! No midwife for her, no medicine, nothing to dull the pain, she will feel every single inch of that child tearing from her body, so help him gods! He hopes it hurts, he hopes it causes her nothing but distress and agony…he hopes it dies…he hopes she…no…no he doesn’t hope she dies…not really. He can hear her voice breaking as she pleads and cries for help, as she begs for medicine, water…anything, anything to ease her. Like hell, scream you stupid bitch, feel what you have done to both of us!

When the thing is pushed from her, if it lives, he will send it to her father’s house. He can keep what he paid for, he decides. She will not even have a moment to hold it, a moment to feed it, nothing…she will have nothing from the man who tried and failed to steal her from him. Hours pass, her agonizing cries finally ending, more to do with her voice breaking than any abating in her pain. He sips his wine, and broods, his rage mounting with every passing moment. So when the maid comes to him, covered in his wife’s blood, telling him she is bleeding to death…for one long moment he considers letting her die, letting her pay the ultimate price for her sins. But his anger wins out, if she dies she suffers but once, might even be reunited with her lover in Elysium, forever out of his grasp, and this he can not abide! She is his to do with as he pleases, and what he pleases now is to let her live…

“Call for the physician then,” He hisses at the maid, turning a cruel gimlet eye on her, he grasps the young woman by the upper arm and yanks to face him. “If my wife dies, so do you! So, do hurry!” Her face blanches, and he realizes how dire the situation must be. Releasing the maid, who runs from him, he strides toward her chamber, to see for himself.

The scene before him is gruesome, the smell indescribably vile, she is laying upon her back on a pallet on the floor.  The small mewling disgusting infant is pressed to her breast, covered in her blood and god knows what else, his cord still attached, still connected to her.  Her sweat covered exposed skin is pale, far too pale, her breathing shallow and labored. A pool of blood between her legs, upon the sheet haphazardly thrown over her, growing it seems by the second. He can almost feel her pain and fear radiating from her limp body. He frowns as he feels a foreign pang, of compassion, of regret, of remorse…He kneels down beside her, reaching a hand out to her face.

Then she opens her eyes a slit, gasping in a breath at the sight of his face above her, she painstakingly and with great effort lifts her hand to shield her little bastard from him. 

“Don’t…please…don’t take him…not yet…let me…let me hold him…just a little longer…Let me hold him until…until I die…please…” She pleads. Rage such as he’s never experienced fills him, he wants to grasp the thing and smash it upon the floor before her. Even in her death throws she seeks to hold and protect the product of another man’s seed?! He yanks the infant from her chest, she weakly tries to hold onto him, crying and begging, but she is no match for him. He cuts the cord himself, brutally with his dagger, snarling as the blood sprays against her chest. “No…no…please…don’t…” She cries out, “Please…don’t…don’t hurt him…please…don’t take him, my…son…my baby…” He turns his back to her, as her voice breaks on her desperate cries, leaving her in her pool of blood, the infant wailing for its mother’s breast.

“My baby…” She calls out in agony…

****

Should have killed you both then and there! He thought roughly as he woke, his jaw clenched in fury. No amount of punishment, discipline or lessons could ever make her understand what she’d done to him then. What she continued to do to him every single time she chose him! 

Even now she had chosen him again, he could feel it, the feeling of the connection blooming between the two of them, it made his skin crawl. If only he could find the bitch before Van Ee did what he always did, and cuckolded him, YET FUCKING AGAIN! He had been searching for her, trying to feel her, trying to connect the threads as he had done when he’d found her the first time…But it was as if there was no trace of her anywhere, as if she had simply disappeared from his grasp. The address he had found for Van Ee had been vacant, he’d moved and the landlord would not release his personal information. However he had slipped something, a little racist tidbit about James being seen with a woman of color…I’ll find you, you little bitch! And when he did he would make her pay for making him chase her, he’d make Van Ee pay for taking her from him. When he caught them he would make them both suffer as he had suffered, as he continued to fucking suffer…these god damned dreams made his skin crawl, made his head hurt, made him wild with fury and it was all this stupid bitch’s fault!

Even now the room smelt of blood, and lavender…of her, he could hear the ghost of her agonized pleading…Why can’t you ever just do what you're supposed to do?! Why couldn’t you just…love me, instead of him?

****

Later as Elle sat down to dinner with everyone, she noticed that Max, Maeve and Ute were all giving her strange looks. She arched an eyebrow as she glanced at them, but they all sharply looked away the minute she did. Scrunching her face in confusion, Elle looked at Daire as if in question, he shrugged his shoulders at her as if saying he too had no idea what was happening. 

After they had woken from their nap in the library Milo had left her alone to explore to her heart's content, handing her the keys to lock up saying he had some things to take care of but he would see her at dinner, he had left her with a heated kiss, and mischievous smile on his face. Elle hadn’t been able to find him since, certain now that he had left the house.Though to a certain extent she had been glad for his absence. While their romp in the library had been…pleasurable… altering, Elle was confused and unsure about what had happened. The more she had thought about it the more hazy it had become until she could only really remember random moments of inexplicable pleasure, and…a disquieting feeling of deja vu. She felt like he had touched her, expertly, but..couldn’t pin point when or how, and if she tried to focus on it for too long it made her head hurt.

“So…how was your day Elle?” Max asked her awkwardly, pulling her from her thoughts. Elle glanced at him, he was still not making eye contact.

“It was fine,” She replied, bemused by his behavior.

“Good, good…you seem…better.” He told her, Elle frowned at that. Then remembered her dazed breakfast with Milo, Max and their mother earlier. She sighed.

“I’m fine, everything is fine. So you can definitely look at me, promise I won’t dry heave on you.” She told him sardonically, that got his attention, he arched an eyebrow at her as he looked at her finally, looking vaguely confused.

“Uh, right this morning.” He mumbled under his breath dismissively, looking away from her again. Fidgeting with his hands.

“Wha…what’s going on?” Elle asked finally, alarm tickling the back of her neck.

“Nothing!” Ute, Maeve and Max retorted simultaneously. 

“Och that’s no’ a dead give away,” Daire retorted, rolling his eyes. “You might as well tell us, what is happening?” 

“Nothing is happening,” Maeve said hastily, “haud yer wheesht!”  She hissed at Daire who glared back at his sister. He asked her something in Gaelic, she quickly retorted sharply, as if surprised he turned to look at Elle, before turning back to Maeve, the siblings rapid fire conversing in Gaelic.

What?!” Elle demanded, as a horrifying thought occurred to her, glancing from one person to another at the table. Did they…know what had happened in the library!?

“Nothing,” Daire told her hastily, a knowing smile on his face. 

“Oh it definitely seems as if NOTHING is going on.” She threw at him, furiously. “One of you better….”

“Dinner is in the kitchen, why don’t you guys help yourselves,” Milo cut her off, walking into the dining room, looking a little flushed, “Elle can I see you…upstairs.” 

“Why?” She asked suspiciously, everyone else cleared out quickly, not making eye contact with her as they went.

“Indulge me,” He told her softly, skewering her with his intense gaze. As if helpless to resist him, Elle stood up and followed him out of the dining room into the kitchen, still no one made eye contact as they dished what smelt like chinese food, into the living room and up the stairs. He led Elle to his bedroom, opening the door and allowing her to go through first. 

On his bed, Elle saw a small pet carrier. Confused, she turned to face him, he had a soft smile on his face, nodding his head wordlessly to the carrier, she frowned as she walked toward it. You got me a pet? She thought, uncertain. As she approached it she heard a muted meow, her heart stopped, as she turned to look at Milo over her shoulder, a look of shocked joy on her face. She ran to the carrier and ripped it open, grabbing a fluffy familiar animal from it. Shoving his fury face to hers she kissed him everywhere, mumbling sweet nothings to her baby, as she dropped to the bed.Felix purred disgruntledly at her, allowing her aggressive ministrations. 

“This is the right cat?” He asked her, grinning. Elle had the cat pressed to her chest, and was nuzzling him against her face as she turned, tears of joy in her eyes, nodding. “Oh good, I thought that old lady was lying to me, she certainly robbed me blind for him!” 

“How…how did you know?” She whispered, looking at him as if he were the most incredible man she had ever beheld, his heart thudded in his chest at the look.

“Max finally earned his keep,” He said, walking toward her. He ran his hand over Felix’s back, the animal purred even louder, arching his back into Milo’s hand. “Almost feel bad for the piss tea incident now…almost.” Elle glanced up at him, beyond grateful.

“Did you steal him from Mrs. Bringham?” She asked, laughing at the thought.

“No, no, I bought him from her,” He told her, “He’s all yours now.” 

“You bought him?” She breathed surprised, “You bought my cat for me?” Her eyes were bright with happiness, and adoration.

“I…did.” He whispered, searching her face. He gently swept the hair from her forehead, tilting his head as he looked at her, admiringly. “You glow differently when you are actually happy,” He told her. “I want to make you look like this every day,”

“That is a lot of cats,” She said, flushing as she looked away. 

“We could branch out to dogs eventually,” He told her affably. “Birds next,”

“Have our own menagerie,” She agreed.

“Maybe have that oppsy baby you were talking about earlier,” He added, Elle jerked her head back to him startled.

“Not funny,” She hissed.

“A little bit funny,” He said, booping Felix on the nose with his forefinger. The cat frantically tried to lick his finger. Felix was not known to be a friendly cat, quite the contrary he was ornery to most, so when the animal reached both paws up to grasp his hand, she stared in astonishment as he began sucking on Milo's fingers. “I’m not your mother little guy,” He playfully whispered, pulling his fingers away, Felix chittered his disapproval. 

“Little traitor,” She mumbled, as the cat lurched from her lap onto the bed, rubbing himself onto Milo’s side of the bed…the whole bed is his, there are no sides! She chided herself immediately.

“He’s really affectionate,” He said, reaching down to rub the cat’s exposed belly, Elle started to warn him that this was a sure fire way to get clawed, but the cat simply stretched and meowed happily, before loudly purring to his touch…Same buddy, same!  “I can see why his previous owner was reluctant to let him go,” 

“Mrs. Bringham hates this guy,” Elle said surprised, “She threw a shoe at him once, that’s why he sneaks into my apartment to hang out…” Milo turned to look at her incredulously.

“That wily old bitch,” He hissed under his breath.

“Oh, oh how much did she get you for?” Elle asked, laughing despite herself.

“I…don’t want to talk about it,” He said finally, looking like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

“You could have just taken your shirt off, she gets an alarming amount of playgirl magazines delivered to her house, she leaves them stacked outside her door.” She told him giggling.

“That definitely explains why she kept turning up the heat…” He muttered. “It doesn’t matter, it was worth it.” 

“Worth getting solicited by an elderly hag, for this worthless trash goblin?” She laughed, running her nails against Felix's head, he turned his face into her hand, nuzzling her. Her whole face went soft with affection and happiness as she cooed to him. 

“Worth it to see you look like this,” He told her seriously, looking at her as he had when he’d laid her on the bench in the library, as if she were the most precious thing in the room. Elle drew her brows together, on a pang of tenderness toward him. 

Reaching out, she ran her hand against his jaw, he jerked in surprise at her touch, before relaxing into it. Closing his eyes as if savoring it. Elle leaned forward and gently ran her lips against his, brushing them softly, tenderly. 

“Thank you,” She whispered, pulling back from the feather light touch, his hand shot out to the nape of her neck and he tugged her back to him, deepening the kiss, twinning his tongue with hers. He kissed her as if he were starving for her, as if he were trying to make her understand the depths of his desire for her. As he broke the contact he stared into her eyes at point blank range, his blazing and intense.

“Come here,” He rasped, drawing her to him, as he sat on the bed. He maneuvered her into his lap, holding her nape still, He drew his face against her cheek, his stubble lightly abrading her, running his lips down her jaw, nipping her pulse point, she moaned as she tilted her head giving him more access. “Ik zal nooit genoeg van je krijgen.” He intoned against her neck.

“Dutch…” She breathed, half laughing. He caught her face and turned her to look at him, locking eyes with her.

“I will never get enough of you,” He translated, fiercely. He dipped his face down to her mouth again, brushing his lips against hers. His eyes closed in obvious delight, his breath sighing out. “I want you, schatje; have to have you,” 

“Have...like…umm sex?” She asked, looking at him apprehensively. She had talked a big game earlier, and she wanted him to the point of absolute stupidity but…

“No, I did not have time to make that particular stop,” He told her, “And…to be honest I don’t think I should make that stop yet,”  She tilted her head looking at him confused, “I long for you Elle, I desire you, I want you until I can not think straight, but, I want more between us than just the physical. I…want all of you, I am a greedy man, I can not settle for half measures with you.” 

“What…what does that mean?” She asked confused, that disquieting sense of deja vu passing over her again. He smiled at her, and for a moment his face was not his face…Aiden, mera Jaanu…

“It means I want to lay you down on this bed and…reciprocate what happened earlier, and then I want to make you dinner, and sit and have you tell me more about you, what you like, what you don’t like, what makes you laugh, about your friends, about your goals, your dreams, and everything and anything you want to share.” He explained to her, watching her with wonder. “I want to know everything about you, and I want to share everything about me with you. I...want you, all of you.”

“That's…umm…okay,” She whispered, disconcerted with his sincerity.  

“What troubles you?” He asked, gently brushing the knuckles of his hand against her cheek.

“You are so…straight forward.” She whispered, trying to find words.

“I don’t know any other way to be,” He told her truthfully, “I am not…smooth Elle, I am sure that I should be more aloof and suave about this, but I have no idea how to do that. All I know is that I can not stop thinking about you, that from the moment I laid eyes on you it has felt as if the world is off its axis, and I am…untethered. For someone like me, who enjoys having a certain amount of control, I inexplicably…like how you make me feel wild.” 

“Ruffling your immaculate feathers…” She whispered, he looked at her bemused at that. “Max said that just before we came here that night.”

“Apt,” He agreed, “I almost punched him in the face that night, I’ve never even so much as swung at him as an adult before.”

“You really should have,” She muttered, he chuckled, deep and rumbly. She shivered at the sound. Everything this man does is sexy! “I’m serious, I can’t believe you’re brothers, much less twins.”

“I am the odd one out, schatje, James, Julian and Max are very similar, hot tempered, fun, charming, and exciting and I am…not.” He told her, shrugging.

“Right you’re just funny, sexy and intense, considerate, thoughtful, kind, and oh so sexy, generous, brilliant and have I mentioned sexy?” She retorted, smirking. “I haven’t met your other brothers, but I can’t imagine any world in which you're not the best one.”  He helplessly smiled at that, flushing.

“Flattery will get you anything,” He told her, framing her face in his hands, he furrowed his brows as he gazed at her, as if he were vexed by her. “Everytime I think I couldn’t possibly like you more…” he trailed off, sweeping his lips against hers. 

****

With the same breathless tenderness he had laid her down in the library, he gently laid her against the pillows at the head of the bed, looking at her with that mix of wonder and awe. His hands shaking, he began to carefully undress her, Elle helping him, raising her arms, lifting her hips, easing fabric out of the way until she was before him clad only in her bra and panties. He leaned back to look at her, sucking in a breath at the sight. He speared her with one of his intense lustful looks, biting his lower lip.

“Je bent beter dan mijn wildste fantasieën.” He whispered reverently, blinking as if remembering himself he translated for her, “You are better than my wildest fantasies.” 

“You are going to inadvertently teach me Dutch,” She teased. “Be able to converse with your whole family, grandma included in no time.”

“Unless your plan is to seduce my deceased grandmother, I fear the Dutch you will be learning from me will prove useless.” He told her, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah, probably get me kicked out of the cemetery telling tombstones they exceed my wildest fantasies,” She agreed, this time he burst out laughing, his face a light with good humor.  “I love the way you look when you laugh,” She sighed, running her fingers against his face. He turned his face into her hand, nuzzling his cheek into her palm.

“You certainly make me laugh more than anyone else ever has,” He told her gently, “You are..incomparable.” 

“You can stop sweet talking me, I’m a sure thing.” She teased, flushing, looking away, doubtful. He caught her face in his hand, gently guiding her back to look at him. 

“I think we have established I’m no ‘sweet talker’,” He told her firmly, “Elle it’s important to me that you understand this, I…have never wanted a woman the way I want you,”  She smiled at him in disbelief, clearly humoring him. I will find a way to make you understand one day, make you realize that you are…everything. 

He leaned down to kiss her, tilting her face up to his, exposing her neck to his hands. He swept the backs of his knuckles down her jaw, against her neck, down her collarbone,stopping above the line of her bra, she exhaled her held breath, frustrated, touch me, take this bra off me!  He followed his hand with his lips, hot scorching kisses trailing down. Each one building sweet tension in her body.He trailed his knuckles across her chest,following the line of her bra, back and forth, back and forth, maddeningly slow, looking up at her as if gauging her reaction. A slow smile growing on his face, as her breath caught at his touch, he moved his hand down over her bra,light feather touches, as he stopped short of her straining nipple, moving his fingers around the peak trailing to the underside of her breast. Elle vibrated, the muscles of her stomach clenching as his fingers swept down, down, trailing along the line of her panties. She growled, as he went back and forth here as well. Torture, sweet exquisite torture. She wanted his hands hard on her, for him to rasp his firm strong hands against her, to feel the inherent strength in them.

“So sensitive,” He whispered, his voice deep and resonant. Elle watched him regarding her, he looked as if every touch was tormenting him as well, as if he simply could not touch her enough, as if he were restraining himself, forcing himself to slow down, to tease her. He was so focused on her, like a laser, and in that moment Elle realized he was desperate to please her. Her heart twisted at the thought, filled with tenderness for him. 

“Spread your legs for me,” He commanded in that gravelly tone that sent heat pooling between her legs. She eased them apart for him, slowly, his eyes rapt as he watched her, he looped a finger into the band of her panties, and slid them down, over her hip bone stopping short of her mons. He ran his fingers over the exposed skin, watching her gasp, and shutter with his touch. 

“I’ve dreamed about what you look like with nothing on, about what your perfect little pussy looks like,” He told her, spearing her with his lustful gaze, “I’ve fantasized about touching you here,” He said cupping her through her panties, she arched to his hand, as he dug the heal of his palm into her sensitive bud. “You are so hot and wet here,” he told her, “I can feel you soaking through these,” He groaned, as he pressed his hand to her. “Ik wil mezelf in je begraven, zo diep,” I want to bury myself inside you, so deep, He breathed against her chest, as he brushed kisses above her bra. 

“What..does that mean,” She asked him, struggling to put together a coherent thought.

“Not certain I want to translate that for you,” he told her, looking at her with such wild abandon and hot desire it felt like another caress. 

Holding her gaze, he drew his hand from between her legs, placing his arms on either side of her head, he slid one of his legs between hers, using his knee to brush them apart, bracing his weight on his arms, he covered her with his body, driving his hips down to hers, grinding his straining erection against her cleft, claiming her mouth at the same time, taking the sound of her moan. He locked eyes with her, as he leisurely moved against her, delicious friction, spiking her aching clit, his massive shaft sliding over her, through his jeans and her panties. Her sex clenched, flooding with her arousal. He rasped his teeth against her jaw, trailing open mouth kissed against her throat, as he moved. He moaned against her neck, driving himself harder. 

Wild with desire she grasped him to her, digging her nails into his back desperate to have him closer.  Spearing her fingers into his hair, she tugged his face to hers, slamming her lips against his so hard, their teeth clanged for a moment before they found their rhythm, before he took over the pace. He slanted his mouth to her with reckless, wild insatiable demands, using his lips, teeth and tongue to dominate her, muting the sounds of her pleasure. Elle undulated her hips to him, wrapped her arm around his neck to keep his mouth to hers, shameless with want. She lifted her knees to bring him closer, wrapping the back of her calf around his thigh. The new position drawing his shaft into full relief against her most sensitive spot. Elle felt herself on the verge, so fucking close, fuck…make me cum!!

All too quickly he lifted himself from her, breaking the kiss, straight armed. Prolonging the contact of his hips, before backing onto his haunches away from her. Elle could have shrieked, she had been so close…so fucking close, dancing on the edge. 

With careful deft movements he reached behind her and removed her bra, tossing it away. He stilled as he took in her breasts, pressing a trembling fist to his mouth as he stared, growling something under his breath in dutch that sounded suspiciously like ‘mine’. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he drew his hands down her body grasping the band of her panties, he looked up at her, keeping his eyes on hers as he slowly and carefully tugged them down, Elle helping him, shimmying and raising her hips for him, as he tugged them down her legs, and over her feet, tossing them as well. 

“Show me,” He growled at her, leaning back, placing one of his shaking hands under his chin, the elbow resting on his knee, waiting for her. Elle swallowed, overwrought and excited,beyond shyness. She drew her legs up, and let her knees fall wide open for him, watching his face. A multitude of expressions crossed his face, wonder, awe, reverence, lust…his breath became ragged as his eyes locked rapt to her bared sex. He scrubbed the hand under his chin over his mouth, before his eyes flashed up to her flushed face. “je bent perfectie.” 

“Dutch…” She whispered, his face was telling her things, things she was…unwilling to consider. 

“You are perfection,” He rasped, translating, furrowing his brows as if tormented by the sight, as he looked at her slick, lush flesh, groaning as it became slicker before his gaze. “I don’t know how I have lived so long without this…without you.” He told her, locking eyes with her, a bewildered lost expression on his face, as he smiled crookedly at her. He framed her face with his hands, caressing her cheeks, her jaw, tracing her eyebrows, her nose, as if he were trying to memorize her delicate face. Running trembling lips against her, he kissed everywhere his hands had been on her face, whispering words of praise and sweetness to her, in Dutch.  Elle shivered, against his tender ministrations, surprised at the depth of feeling in his touch, leaning his forehead against hers, he seemed to breathe her in. “Ik heb je gemist.” I’ve missed you. 

Before Elle could ask him what he had said, his big hand cupped her breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple. She arched her back in surprise, rising to his hand, crying out. His head bent to her other breast, lifting it to his mouth in his other hand, he flicked the peak with his tongue, piercing her with his intense eyes, watching her, she did not miss his smile against her aching nipple as she grasped him to her. 

“More…more of that,” She moaned. He obliged her, pressing his open mouth to her, capturing her straining nipple, pulling it into his mouth, with infinite care he grated his teeth against it. “Ahhh fuck, do that again.” Elle gasped out, her body trembling.

“That’s it schatje, tell me what you want me to do,” He growled, grating his teeth against her again and again. All the while pinching and teasing her other nipple. Then he switched his hand and his mouth, driving her to a frenzy. 

 He began descending down her body, trailing warm open mouth kisses from her breastbone down to her navel, placing both his big hands on her thighs, he gently eased them further apart, raining kisses against her soft trembling skin. “You are like silk here,” He breathed, running his hands up her inner thighs toward her sex. Elle tossed her head back, whimpering as he spread her entrance open with his thumbs.  

Peering into her delicate sheath, Milo groaned with barely suppressed desire to release his hard aching shaft, and plunge into her trembling slick flesh. Contending himself instead to dip his head to her barred sex, and run the tip of his tongue to her opening, her hips surged forward at the contact, desperate for more of him, he held her still, feeling her thighs tremble under his forearms. He set back in, tasting her, running his tongue up toward her clit. He growled at her taste, like wine and honey, mixed with her womanly scent and taste…nothing had ever been so sweet as her. In a rush she became wetter for him, as if ravenous he set about taking all of her sweet arousal to his mouth. As he licked, sucked and tasted her, he listened and watched her reactions, she made it so easy to pleasure her. Moaning, keening, screaming, undulating when he kissed her the way she liked, whispering brokenly that he was making her crazy, you and me both schatje. He thought as his cock strained and pulsed so hard against his pants he was sure it would break his zipper.

He sucked her little swollen clit into his mouth, and she arched screaming, her trembling cleft driving toward his face in desperation. He held her down with a firm hand to her mons, keeping her where he wanted her, her dark damp curls soft under his palm. She was keening, her voice breaking on little sobs of pleasure, as he sucked her lightly there, using his other hand he ran his fingers between her yielding lips, gently parting them, he pressed the tip of his forefinger into her opening. She undulated to it, for more of it, slowly he sunk his finger into her tight sheath, feeling her clench all around him. Fuck your so fucking tight, how am I ever going to fit you without hurting you! He thought anguished, as he lightly thrust his finger. She was so hot and wet for him, but he doubted he could fit another finger inside her, much less his cock. Now I'm getting a complex about my dick!  

He turned his finger, making a come-hither motion inside her, finding the rigid bump at the top of her entrance, with feather light touches he petted it, Elle screamed out her pleasure, incoherent with the intensity of it,  as she ground her hips to his hand and mouth, so close to the edge he could feel her spasming at the end of his finger. He stilled his finger, running just his tongue against her clit with no pressure.

“No…what? Why?!” She demanded, glaring at him, trembling, sweat beading over her perfect body. 

“Elle,” He said to her nonchalantly, “You do know this room is soundproof right?”

“What? Fuck…yes…why?” She managed, shaking, pressing her trembling hands to her face. 

“So when I make you cum so hard you scream, no one will hear you.” He told her wickedly, “And I’m going to make you scream so loud, and so hard, that you will forget there was ever a man before me, en er zal er nooit een zijn na!” and there will never be one after! He growled, as he moved his finger again, sucking on her clit, with renewed vigor. 

As predicted, Elle screamed, her back arching, her legs splaying wide, as she came for him, her body bowing, the muscles under his hand on her belly spasming, as the ones inside of her clenched his finger so tightly, milking it. She trashed her head violently on the pillow, her eyes flashing open at the last as she looked at him desperately, an expression of confusion and…disorientation? Before her face relaxed, and her eyes rolled. Her petite gorgeous body, spent, as she caught her breath, gently pushing his hand and head away from her. He reluctantly released her, kissing her thighs, as he climbed her body. Laying on his back, he pulled her to him, she curled into him immediately, resting her hot face into his chest. Her breathing, still hard and panting though beginning to even.

Her body relaxed and pliant, he pulled the covers around them, holding her still. She mumbled something he didn’t understand, as he brushed her sweaty hair from her face. But as he asked her to repeat herself, he realized she had already drifted off to sleep in his arms, completely spent. 

****

To say Elle’s brain was scrambled when she awoke, in his arms, fully naked still, would be an understatement. He had driven her to the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced, and…if she was being honest the only one a man had given her. Sad but true, Elle’s past sexual encounters had been lackluster at best. Not with this glorious man though, whatever spot his clever finger had found…she closed her eyes at the remembrance of the mind destroying pleasure. She had nearly come undone. But it had not all been sunshine and having her back blown out, more than once during the encounter his face had seemed to shift, just like the library… and at one point…it had felt like his hands had been on her breasts at the same time as they were on her lower body, she had sworn she could feel him pinching and rolling her nipples, kissing her throat, nipping her collarbone, at the same time as he was…otherwise occupied.  In the moment Elle had dismissed it, near mindless with pleasure, but now, it came back to her with disconcerting brightness.  Had she imagined that? Been so overwrought with pleasure she had confused moments? No…it felt real… 

And…she had felt different too, looking at her legs that were long and willowy…draped over his shoulders and around his back…his freckled back. Milo doesn’t have a freckle on him, or a giant scar down his left leg and hip…or a southern accent, or a Scottish one…Not thinking about this! Elle’s mental list of unthinkable things was steadily and dangerously becoming less of a list and more of a pile of shitty blocks one atop the other, precarious at best, a time bomb waiting at worst. 

“You're awake,” He whispered, sweeping his lips to her forehead. 

“Shockingly,” She agreed, “You might quite literally have caused me some brain damage there.” 

“You absolutely addled the fuck out of me earlier today, so I appreciate the amount of effort waking up has taken,” He teased, she looked up at his smug face.

“Well don’t you look pleased with yourself.” She sighed. 

“Very,” He agreed affably, “Loathe as I am to suggest this, why don’t you get dressed, let me make you dinner,”  As if on cue her stomach growled. “Immediately,” He added.

“I am not going downstairs,” She told him firmly, “Everyone is already acting weird, and we’ve been up here for a while, there’s no way they don’t know what we’ve been doing,”

“Weird how? Did anyone say something to you?” He asked sharply, concern and outrage on his face. “What happened?”

“I mean at this point I’m sure they all think I’m some sort of…” She began, half joking. 

“Who said that to you?” He cut her off, his eyes blazing with anger, “Max? I’ll fucking kick that asshole out,” The vehemency of his tone surprising her.

“You’d kick your twin out?” She asked, startled.

“If he insulted you, absolutely I would,” He told her arching an eyebrow, “No one insults you in my fucking house, or frankly anywhere.” He told her as if it were the single most obvious thing in the world.

“He didn’t insult me,” She assured him, “Not that I wouldn’t deserve it, fucking shameless hussy that I am, I regret fucking nothing and would do this over, and over again.”  He smiled at that, but caught her chin in his hand, tilting her face so he could lock eyes with her.

“You don’t deserve anyone’s cruelty or insults, definitely not for this,” He told her firmly, wanting to make sure she understood. “I won’t tolerate that, not about this, not about you,” 

“I’m not…normally like this you know,” She told him blushing, “Like…I’m not just…out there doing this with just anyone.”

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m special?” He teased lightly. 

“You..are special,” She told him, looking away. He furrowed his brow, feeling like his heart was twisting in his chest, gently brushing his lips against her turned cheek, the tip of her nose, and when she turned to him, her lips.

“Special is too plain and cheap a word to describe you,” He told her softly, “You would think knowing so many languages I would have better words for you,”

“I wish I had better words for you too, special sounds…so stupid when trying to explain you.” She agreed, looking at his handsome face. Not realizing what her expression was saying to him, Milo’s breath caught at the intensity of her gaze. I’ve been waiting 27 years to see that expression again…

****

The first time he’d laid eyes on her, he’d felt winded by the sight. Laura Allen was something else, not necessarily the most beautiful girl, but there was something about her that made you want to get close to her, to possess her. And he had wanted to so badly, when he’d taken her out for the first time, he’d known he was going to marry her. What he hadn’t know was that she would dim and fade so quickly, that she would become a shrew, harping on him about money, the kids, who even knew what else! He hadn’t known that she would let herself go, that she would get so…old.

She isn’t fun anymore, she isn’t vibrant or sweet, and god she is the worst kind of scatterbrain. She can’t keep track of the bills, she can’t seem to remember to keep the house clean, she can’t do a goddamned thing properly! He feels cheated, lied to, robbed of the woman she is supposed to have been, versus this tired, old, fat, useless hag that he’s trapped with. And he is trapped, two fucking kids, a marriage that he didn’t want, a mortgage, a whole boring life that he hadn’t necessarily signed up for.  Beth isn’t boring, Beth is beautiful, funny, sweet, oh so charming and right now, Beth is on her knees in front of him…how exactly is he supposed to say no to this?

It’s Laura’s fault after all that he’s doing this. She’s the one not living up to her promises, she’s the one not giving him his due. Christ when was the last time Laura had got on her knees for him? He works hard, he holds up his part of the bargain bringing in a paycheck every two weeks! If she was a better wife…He groans low in his throat, as pleasure assails him. He closes his eyes and forgets all about his bitch wife, his obligations, his responsibilities, and just for a second he’s a young man again, enjoying the company of a young sexy woman, getting his dick sucked.

It's only later when he sees her, her long thick mahogany hair pulled back in a high ponytail just like when they were first married. Her pretty face shining as she gives him the gentlest smile that he feels guilty. For a second he becomes overwhelmed with the horror of the fact that he cheated on her, the mother of his children, the woman he had promised to love forever. It’s on the tip of his tongue to confess it to her, to beg for her forgiveness, to ask her to work on their marriage…But then he glances down at what she’s wearing, her cut off jeans, and her baggy t shirt, looking like a mess, basket of laundry she hadn’t bothered to fold still in her arms, the house a disaster. Irritation and indignation sprout in his chest, not only does she put in zero effort into her looks but she also puts in no effort to make their lives good. She’s a slob, a mess, and if she had even tried, even a little bit he might not have strayed, and that’s the fucking truth! It’s her fault that Beth’s advances worked, it’s her fault that he had to seek out with other women what she refused to give him, it’s her fault he drinks! Suddenly furious he grabs the basket of laundry from her hands and tosses it.

“Jesus Laura! You can’t even get the fucking Laundry done?! Really?” He rages, “The house looks like a stye! Did you even make dinner?” 

“I...uh…I just got home a little while ago, Hank…” She mumbles, looking at him wide eyed as if he’s the monster, as if he’s the one in the wrong.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that! Like you’re afraid!” He yells in her face, “Don’t make me the bad guy because I want a clean house!” 

“Hank…please, I just got home…” She tries again, and this time he grabs her face in his hand, yanking her forward to look at him.

“And WHY are you just getting home now?” He demands, “What are you doing that keeps you out so fucking late you can’t even keep the house clean?!” 

“I’m working…” She whispers, eyes wide with panic now, “I took…overtime, you said you couldn’t manage all the bills…”

“Because you fucking waste so much god damned money on stupid shit!” He roars. 

“Hank! Please…the girls…” She pleads, “I’m sorry…I’ll clean…”

“You only clean to stop me from getting mad, you don’t do ANYTHING out of your own volition, you need me to motivate you, and it’s bullshit! You’re a fucking adult, you should know what needs to get done and you should just do it!” He continues, loudly, his temper stoked. “This is abuse Laura! It’s fucking abuse that you drive me to this place, that you push me to get this angry, when I’m asking you for so little!” She doesn’t even respond, probably because she knows he’s right he thinks, he releases her face and pushes her back. “This is disgusting, you are a fucking disgusting!” He hisses, shoving her out of his way now as he storms upstairs to their bedroom. He thinks he hears her sob, and it just infuriated him further. He turns to glance at her over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare sit there and cry, trying to make me feel guilty for what you are doing, if you didn’t act like this I would never have a reason to raise my voice at you! You just want me to be the bad guy so fucking badly!”

“I…I don’t…I just…want you to treat me better Hank, I don’t…deserve to be yelled at like this.” She manages, not meeting his eyes, tears trailing down her cheek.

“If you think I treat you so badly, you can always fucking leave, no one is forcing you to stay!” He throws at her, “Do us a both a favor Laura, either get better, or fuck off!” 

****

She had never actually gotten better, not for me anyways…He woke up angry, frustrated so god damned furious at her, he hadn’t wanted all that much from her, not really. He just wanted her to be a decent wife, to meet his needs…She’d been more than happy to do that and more for him…Ugh the humiliation of it still stung. He inhaled deeply forcing himself to calm, as he got out of bed and dressed for the clandestine part of his night. He had a lead on Van Ee, apparently he had received treatment at a rehabilitation center after sustaining a serious injury. Of course he’d come back as a war-hero…fucking again, the attention whore! However this boded well for him, injured was good, injured meant less resistance when he took her from him, when he did what he wanted to her in front of him…Make you watch me cuckold you for once! 

****

Milo had finally convinced Elle to come downstairs to let him feed her. After making sure Felix had food and water, and access to his new litter box in their…Milo’s room, Elle amended in her head hurriedly, they headed down, hand in hand. Elle would have preferred to be less ostentatious about the thing, but he had grabbed her hand and refused to release it, guiding her down the stairs. Elle suspected that he wanted everyone to know they were together,  I mean…are we together? That actually required some thought, this thing between them was…nebulous. There was something here, Elle couldn’t deny that, but they weren’t in a relationship exactly, he hadn’t so much as asked her on a date…We’ve really just traded orgasms, and he bought me my cat…and a laptop, that’s the single most expensive thing I own. So I’m basically his sugar baby at this point…fuck not thinking about this, NOT THINKING ABOUT THIS. Onto the stack this thought went. 

Elle had been worrying for nothing as everyone had cleared out, leaving behind a mess of dishes and empty take out containers in their wake. Sighing Elle released Milo’s hand and set to work cleaning up.

“What are you doing?” Milo asked her.

“Cleaning up,” She told him, “obviously,”  She didn’t notice him moving behind her, until he had scooped her up into his arms, across his chest. She squealed in surprise, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“No, you are most certainly not cleaning up after these assholes,” He told her firmly, marching her out of the kitchen, and delicately depositing her onto a chair in the dining room, gently disentangling her arms for him.

“What…why?” She asked, breathless.

“I’m feeding you,” He informed her, “Ergo you are not cleaning the kitchen, sit here for me, I’ll be right back.”

“You’re not going to let me help you?” She called after his retreating back.

“Wait for me, I will be right back,” He called over his shoulder, as he walked back into the kitchen. Moments later he walked out of the kitchen with a covered tray, and a small white cooler in his hands. “Follow me, schatje.” He said as he began walking out of the dining room, and into the living room. Elle followed behind, confused about where they were going when he started walking up the stairs. Tailing behind him he walked past all the bedrooms to a set of large double doors all the way to the end of the hall. He waited for her to catch up with him, before opening the doors and ushering her out in front of him.

As she walked out two things became clear to Elle, one that she had been correct in assuming that the fire table in the seating area by the pool would sparkle at night when lit, and two and perhaps more importantly, that Milo had never needed to walk by her window at any point on the way to the pool! 

“You did that on purpose!” She hissed, whirling on him as he closed the doors. He tilted his head confused.

“What?” He asked her.

“Walking by my window in a towel!” She retorted sharply. 

“Yes,” He agreed unapologetically, “And I’d do it again,” He told her shrugging a shoulder.

“What?Why?” She growled at him. He tilted his head analyzing her, a wily little smirk growing on his handsome face.

“Because you like eye-banging me,” He said finally, “And because I like watching your pretty face blush with lust…for me.”  Elle glared at him, fighting a smile at his shameless answer. 

“So you were…seducing me? I thought you said you weren’t a good flirt.” She pointed out.

“I walked outside your window in a towel,is that your definition of good flirting?” He asked giving her a bless- your- heart expression.

“Granted it wasn’t as smooth as the homeless guy by my apartment but you did your best,” She told him, patting his shoulder condescendingly.

“I deserved that,” He said dryly, scrunching his nose as he nodded.

“His name is Roger, sometimes he walks by in just his stained parka, wide open too.” She continued, “It’s like walmart Magic Mike, but you know, I appreciate the commitment, it’s fucking cold out there, little Roger is holding up really well!” 

“Well I’m not sure how I can compete with that,” He conceded, “Would you like me to give you a ride to the shelter so you can get his number or…?” 

“Bold of you to assume I don’t already have it, even bolder to assume that he’s not currently crashing on my couch.” She replied, “I’m a giver, what can I say.” He tilted his head at that and gave her a hot look.

“You are definitely that,” He rasped, the timbre of his voice making her toes curl, as he ran his gaze heatedly down her body. If you keep looking at me like that…She flushed, looking away, covertly sucking in a breath.

“So, dinner…” She said, her voice embarrassingly high. She cleared her throat, and placed a hand over her mouth, refusing to look at him, even as she felt his eyes on her. 

“De manier waarop je bloost…” The way you blush, he growled under his breath. Elle glanced at him at the sound, she didn’t know what he said but the tone was unmistakable. “Let me feed you,” he said his voice deep with unbridled lust,  “voordat ik je eet.” Before I eat you, he muttered under his breath, as he walked toward the seating area. Elle followed him, her eyes fixed on his muscular back, feeling heated herself. 

She wasn’t sure if it had been a deliberate decision on his part but the shirt he was wearing clung to the muscles of his upper body and torso lovingly, allowing her to be able to watch every sensuous move as if he were shirtless. She watched him place the dish and cooler down on the outdoor kitchen counter, turn off the fire table, and light the grill, each movement making her hotter and hotter, until she felt like she might rip the clothes off him. How does he always look so competent, so god damned intentional with every one of his movements? Elle scrubbed a hand against her mouth as she remembered the way his body moved on hers earlier, the way that he kissed her with such wild abandon, the way that…she closed her eyes and pressed her face into her hand, feeling herself becoming uncomfortably charged. 

Milo covertly looked at her as he started grilling dinner for them, and promptly had to look away, lest he grab her. I don’t even want to know what she’s thinking about…because I’m going to forget all the reasons I shouldn’t just take her, hard, right against that wall…He groaned under his breath and tried to focus on dinner, the grill, the fact that his mother was less than 20 feet away from them, genuinely anything not to think about her sitting there with that tormented, lust filled expression on her beautiful face. Now that he knew how finely made her perfect body was, how intensely sensitive she was, the fucking sounds she would make while he was…He feared he would lose the ability to think about anything else. I am fucking ruined…for this woman, and this woman alone.

****

Miraculously Milo managed not to burn their dinner, despite finding himself looking at her illuminated face an alarming amount of times. He even made himself sound semi normal when he offered her a blanket, and a glass of wine, though it had been a near thing when their hands had brushed as he’d passed her the glass. He realized he might be in trouble when he caught himself staring at the way her elegant fingers caressed the stem of it, or when she’d ran her tongue idly against the rim of the glass to capture a drop of the red wine that had spilled. But he had rallied himself, and now was presenting her with an adequately cooked steak and grilled asparagus, one of her favorite dishes. It was not his best cooking, but considering the fact that he had at one point been so distracted that he almost tried flipping the steak with his bare hand…he felt he had done just fine.

“This looks amazing!” She said with vigor, taking the plate he handed her, “You remembered,” 

“You told me a day ago,” he reminded her, sitting beside her rather than across from her, wanting to be close to her. “I would be absolutely the worst COO if I couldn’t remember things I was told the day before.” He teased.

“I don’t really know what a COO does,” she admitted, “I feel like I should be impressed, and probably sigh about your brilliance though.” 

“It would be nice if someone were impressed,” He agreed, “It's my own fault to be honest, you can’t spend your life being an overachiever and then expect enthusiasm when you just continue to overachieve.”

“Surely your family…” She began, he turned to look at her before shaking his head no. “I mean, you were a lawyer, and you’re only 27, seems like a huge promotion, didn’t anyone…”

“It is…expected of me.” He said simply, looking away. But Elle caught the hurt look on his face before he brushed it away. She reached her hand to his face turning him back to her, he seemed surprised by her touch.

“Seems like alot of things are expected of you,” She whispered, she ran her thumb against his jaw lightly, he closed his eyes savoring her touch. “Is it different when you're with your other brothers?”

“James…isn’t really around. He went to boarding school a year or so after my father died, and then joined the military as soon as he graduated, and then he was badly injured, he still hasn’t really recovered.” He told her carefully.

“What about Julian?” She asked. He shrugged noncommittally. “You’re the youngest of the boys right?”

“It’s complicated,” He offered, “Technically yes, but…” again he shrugged, clearly not used to talking about this.

“We keep dodging the Elephant in the room when we talk.” She whispered finally, “Your mother told me you remembered all of our…lives.” She began bracingly. He seemed to flinch. 

“I did not want to burden you…” He sighed, “I can’t imagine being on your side of this, the pressure you would feel, I never want you to feel that with me.”

“I think…I am…having memories.” She told him, looking at her hands. He said nothing for a long time to that, she glanced up and saw that he had elicited no surprise to her admission. “You knew.” 

“The nightmares,” He agreed, “I did not want to force you to talk about what you were seeing, but…the things you would say after…I suspected.”  She nodded to that.

“They are…real?” She asked.  After a moment he nodded. “How many…lives have we lived before this?” 

“Alot,” He said simply. “It’s hard for me to answer that exactly, I have access to the memories but it's not the same as the memories I make now, the memories I have of say my childhood. If I don’t actively think about it, they don’t necessarily get triggered.” 

“But you…know it’s me?” She asked, again looking at her hands.

“Why is this the sticking point for you?” He asked her instead, looking at the top of her head, a look of pain on his face. She shrugged a shoulder dismissively. “Tell me,” He whispered.

“No one…no one wants me.” She said haltingly, “I mean that sounds so pathetic, and self pitying, I have a few really good friends, and my family loves me, but...you’re suggesting that you…loved me so much in the past that you keep coming back for me…I can’t wrap my head around that.”

“We came back for each other,” He said, “I mean the argument could be made that you didn’t want me this time around…” She looked up abruptly at him, spearing him with her sharp surprised gaze. 

“What? That’s ludicrous, who wouldn’t want you?” She all but shrieked at him, before remembering herself and blushing furiously. He didn’t bother stifling a smile, instead grinned fully at her.

“Do you want me?” He asked her, “I wasn’t clear on that, with all the eye-banging and…”

“Shut up,” She hissed embarrassed.

“The feeling is so mutual. I promise you the only reason I catch you eyebanging me is because I’m absolutely, constantly, eyebanging you.” He told her. 

“Gah, stop it.” She sighed, “You can not be this charming, and look like that, and look at me like this, I’m going to get used to this and when it all inevitably goes to shit…”

“Why will it go to shit?” He asked sternly. The fuck am I going let that happen!

“I mean have you ever had a relationship that hasn’t gone to shit?” She asked. “I can’t like you this much this soon, it’s just setting myself up for you to break my heart.”

“You’re…afraid I’ll break your heart?” He asked her softly, he framed her face in his hands and turned her to look at him. “Because you’re afraid you're going to fall in love with me, and I’m going to leave you?”

“It’s a legitimate thing to be afraid of,” She said defensively. His face softened as he glanced at her, a tender expression crossing it as he exhaled.

“I wish you had all of these memories, I wish you weren’t just seeing what I can only assume is the worst parts of it…because then maybe you’d understand how ridiculous that fear is.” He told her, tilting his head to look at her with such longing she felt as if her heart had stopped. “Elle…I understand this is complicated for you, but it is not complicated for me.”

“What do you mean?” She whispered, trying to understand what his expression was saying to her.

“I was 5 when I really started to comprehend what I was experiencing,” He began, trying to find the words, wanting her to understand. “I felt this aching loneliness, like something huge was missing, the memories were so confusing and hard to understand, but as I got older and with my mother’s help I began to see,and then I had to learn how to stop seeing.  I had to learn how to build walls around myself, had to learn how to move forward in this world, without you. How to be successful, how to exist, the thing that made it possible was the realization that it wasn’t forever, it was always…until. So I couldn’t think about missing you, until I found you, I only had to bear the loneliness until you, like that. So…this is very simple for me, because my until…is you.” 

“I worry that you’ve hyped the idea of me up so much in your head, that…the reality…” She let the sentence trail, refusing to look at him, not wanting to see her fears confirmed.

“You think you’re a letdown?” He asked incredulously, “Oh Elle,” He sighed, he brushed his lips against her forehead. 

“I was 16 and I thought I was in love, he was my first real boyfriend…and he told me I wasn’t the prettiest girl he’d ever dated, or the thinnest, but I was…fine. And that is a sentiment that has been repeated throughout my dating life.” She told him, he could hear the vulnerability in her voice, the hurt. “You know what the saddest part of that is, I lost my virginity to that guy, the guy who told me I wasn’t even in the top 5 of girls he’d been with, what does that say about me?” 

“It doesn’t say anything about you,” He told her, hurting for her, wanting to go fight her demented ex. Not even in the top five?! And you took MY woman’s virginity and left her feeling like this?! I’ll kill you! “It says that some asshole realized you were significantly too good for him, and felt the need to knock you down.” 

“Sure, and all the mean girls were just jealous of me,” She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe they were, what’s not to be jealous of?” He asked her, “Look at me,” He whispered, she looked up at him, trying to school her expression, but the look on his face stopped her. He was looking at her with such raw adoration. “Has it occurred to you that the reason that these boys you’ve dated don’t see you, is because…you are not meant for them?” Elle blinked at that, no she had NOT ever thought about that.

“And I’m what, meant for you?” She quipped sardonically.

“Yes, you are.” He said simply, his tone brokering no room for misinterpretation, he was absolutely certain. 

“This is your dream girl?” She asked, smirking, gesturing to her body. He following her hand with his eyes lingering over the soft curves of her body, the rise and fall of her breasts, that fit his hands so well, her small waist, her rounded hips, her dainty elegant hands, the delicate bones of her wrists, she was so lovely to him he couldn’t comprehend how she didn’t see it herself.

“Yes,” He told her, locking eyes with her again, “I think at this point, you have…seen enough of my reactions to know that the answer to that is one hundred percent, unequivocally, yes.” 

“This is ridiculous…” She began, defensive. 

“Elle, you’ve seen me naked, you’ve seen my body react to yours, and if you have any doubt go ahead and look down, at any point that you’re in the same room with me, you have to know I can’t possibly fake that, I’m 27 not 17.” He told her humorlessly.  Her face flushed as she inadvertently looked down, confirming for herself that he was absolutely not lying.

“Fuck,” She hissed, her voice bordering on hysteria. “How is this happening right now? Why now? I’ve never been the object of anyone’s desires like this. And never someone as…” She gestured trying to find the words.

“Someone as?” He prompted. Tell me what you think of me…tell me what you see when you look at me.

“You aren’t just my dream man, you are…THE dream man. Look at you, you are tall, muscular, handsome, Christ so handsome! And you are…so thoughtful and sweet, and considerate, and sexy, fuck so sexy, and….” She said frustrated. He cut her off with his lips, kissing her with such aching tenderness, that she sighed against his lips.

“I’m glad you see me this way,” he told her, as he pulled away, “It makes me proud that I am the kind of man that you want.” 

“Who wouldn’t want you?” She reiterated, under her breath.

“You would be surprised,” He said, “Schatje, women throw themselves at me, because I have money, and I look a certain way, but…I’ve never really had a serious relationship.” He confessed awkwardly. “It seems women only want me for one thing.” 

“That’s…such fucking garbage,” She said vehemently angry on his behalf, “How can someone be around you for any length of time and not realize that this is just a bonus,” She said gesturing to his face and body, “You make me feel…safe.”  He exhaled a shaky breath at that, drawing his brows together.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He whispered to her. 

“What? Making me feel safe?” She asked surprised. He nodded his head, brushing the hair from her forehead.

“I want to be the person you seek comfort from when you are sad or afraid, I want to be the soft place you can fall when life is hard, I want to protect you, and shield you from harm and hurt.” He explained, “That you feel safe with me, is the start of that.”

“You want me to fall hopelessly, messily in love with you, don’t you,” She sighed dramatically, in a joking tone. 

“Yes, that is what I want. I want you to fall so deeply and truly and madly in love with me, that the idea that this is going to ‘go to shit’ is wiped from your mind.” He told her. “I want you to love me so much that you trust me with your heart, that you trust me not to hurt you, and that you tell me the name of that fucker you dated at 16 so I can go kick 6 shades of shit out of him,” Elle laughed at that.

“You can’t kick his ass for not loving me,” She told him, dismissively. Refusing to even consider the rest of what he’d said.

“I can kick his ass for making sure you didn’t love yourself.” He amended, for her. 

“That would become your full time job,” She told him, “Hunting down people who’ve made me feel like shit about myself,” She laughed. He didn’t.

“I hate that,” He told her. “You don’t deserve that, and you didn’t deserve it then.”

“It’s life right,” She retorted nonchalantly, her expression cold. 

“You know the more time I spend with you the more I realize, you’ve never really been loved properly before.” He replied, softly. “You haven’t been cherished, you haven’t been treated well, and you sure as hell haven’t been spoiled.”

“That shits for girls that…” She began offhanded.

“Don’t…don’t do that.” He interrupted her, “Don’t say something cruel about yourself, and disguise it as humor for me,”

“I mean objectively it’s funny,” She concluded for him, arching an eyebrow, “You just think I’m the shit and won’t put up with anyone speaking ill of me, blah,blah,blah.” She said, jokingly rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“You are funny,” He told her, “and I do think you are ‘the shit’, and I won’t put up with anyone saying otherwise, and you’re going to have to get used to that.” 

“Planning to keep me around?” She asked, only half joking.  He locked eyes with her again, his face radiating with an unknown feeling.

“Oh yes,” He told her seriously. “I’m planning on keeping you for as long as you’ll let me.” 

“As long as I’ll let you?” She said smirking, “Ball’s in my court as it were, because you are so sure about me,” She scoffed.

“Elle, the ball is pretty permanently in your court, I’ve made my decision and my intentions quite clear I think, but I am patient man, I’ve no problem waiting for you to come to the same conclusion, and when you inevitably do, I promise I won’t even bring it up that often that you put up such a fuss over it.” He told her amused. 

****

She combs through her son's curly golden brown hair, removing the tangles gently. The boy chatters to her excitedly, but she doesn’t really hear him, staring out the window as her fingers work as if by rote. Will anything ever feel right for her again? Will it ever stop hurting? 

She feels Caleb’s hands on her shoulders, and looks over her shoulder at him. His face a mask of concern. She tries to smile for him, not wanting him to worry anymore, but she can’t seem to make her mouth work, can’t get the corners of her lips to move right. It feels like an impossible task, to do the thing that once felt so natural, so involuntary when he was around. 

“Mama!” Walter shrieks, she looks down sharply, panicked. 

“What?” Baby did I hurt you? What’s wrong?” She cries out, startled.

“...it’s…a deer.” Her son replies looking up at her with owl eyes, startled by her reaction. She blinks, shaking her head, trying to school her features. “Mama, what’s wrong?” 

“Where’s the deer baby?” She asks instead, he points out the window, though the troubled look doesn’t leave his cherubic face, the perfect mix of hers and Caleb’s, though as he gets older he’s been looking more and more like Caleb. A wave of pain hits hers as she thinks about what might have been with…would the new baby have looked more like her? Would they have had a girl this time? A little blossom with Caleb’s sea green eyes, and her dimples? 

“Walter, why don’t you go outside and see if you can’t fetch your mama some flowers?” Caleb asks their son, his tone gentle but firm. The boy looks from his mother to his father, consternation on his young face, but he complies. Pressing a kiss to his mama’s cheek as he leaves. As soon as the boy is outside and in their view in the window, Caleb moves to kneel in front of her. His big calloused hands framing her face, he tenderly wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, tears that she didn’t even realize she had shed. “Baby…”

“He passes, don’t he?” She says looking above his head out the window to their son.

“What?” Caleb asks, confused.

“Walter; people would think he was a white boy, and if you kept him out of the sun, and kept his hair cropped, why, no one would know otherwise.” She says, tilting her head to watch her son pick up handfuls of the wild flowers that are growing in the field. 

“Leah…”Caleb began, his tone strained but careful.

“Why, you and he could live your whole lives as white men, no one would question a widower and his son…” She continues, idly, Caleb gasps horror struck.

“Leah what the hell are you talking about?” He asks, forcing her face to his, “Baby don’t talk like that!”

“Caleb, you and he could leave and start a whole new life. You could find yourself a nice white lady, and have more children, and no one would know, no one would ever suspect a thing. You could tell people his mother was Italian or…” She tells him calmly.

“You meaning to leave me Leah?” He cut her off frantically, panicking, his breath coming out ragged, his hand grasping her nape. 

“This was a mistake Caleb, look at our lives, look at what we’ve done to our son,” She tells him tears trailing her face. 

“Don’t you say that to me! Don’t you ever tell me this was a mistake!” He roars at her, his hands shaking as he leans his forehead to hers. “You're my girl, you’ve been my girl since I was 15, and I’ve loved you since I was a boy, as far back as I can remember, don’t you dare tell me this was a mistake!Don’t…don’t you want me no more?” He whispers, his voice shaking.

“I’ve loved you my whole life Caleb Jacob, don’t you understand? This is me loving you! You could have a normal life, you could give our son a normal life. You could…love again.” She tells him desperate.

“Leah May!” He glowers at her, “I will never love again! I will never recover from the loss of you, I would rather die than live without you!” 

“How many babies do I have to lose Caleb? How many?!” She yells at him, pulling away, getting out of the chair, shaking, heart broken, backing away from him. “You think we will ever have peace? How long will we be here before we have to leave in the middle of the night? How long before something happens to Walter?!” 

“Then we’ll leave the states, we’ll go somewhere else, somewhere where we can live in peace!” He tells her, “Baby I’ll live anywhere with you! I’ll live in a god damned hole in the ground if it means I get to wake up with you!”

“Where will we go Caleb? Where will we go that anyone is going to accept a white man with his black wife? Tell me?” She demands turning to him, “ I am not saying this to be cruel, I’m trying…I’m trying to free you!” 

“Free me? Free me from what? The love of my life?!” He throws back at her, pushing the chair over in his anger. “Leah I can’t believe you would expect me not only to leave you but to take our son?!”

“We could start over, you could find a wife, a more acceptable wife, your daddy would probably welcome you back if you married…” She began, trying to reason with him.

“That man ain’t my daddy!” He yells, his teeth gritted, “My daddy was buried less than a month ago, and he would be ashamed of you for this Leah!”

“Don’t you dare!” She screams back at him, her voice breaking, “Don’t you dare tell me what my daddy would have…don’t you dare!!” She collapses, onto her knees weeping. 

Caleb kneels before her, pulling her into his arms, even as she pushes against his chest, screaming and crying, slapping at him. He does not relent, engulfing her in his strong arms, cradling her head against his chest, too weak to resist him anymore she sobs brokenly into his shirt.

“I am so sorry baby, I am so sorry. He wouldn’t ever have been ashamed of you, you are the most incredible woman on God’s green earth, MY woman,” he whispers to her, kissing her forehead, his whole body trembling. “Baby, please, please, you can’t leave me, you can’t,” He voice breaking into a raw sob. “I will not…survive.”

“What…what if we never have another baby Caleb? What if…I can’t? Are you ready for that? Can you live with that?” She wept, “I want you to be happy, I want you to have the life you deserve! You deserve to have a house full of children, and a normal life where you don’t have to bury relatives because you married a…”

“Don’t you ever call yourself that!” He cuts her off, “I don’t care about babies if they ain’t with you! I don’t want to hold another woman’s child in my hands Leah!” 

“You could learn…learn to love another woman, I’m sure of it. You could find a nice blond white woman, someone kind, and sweet, someone who…who would love our son like her own…” She began choking on the hateful words, aching because she knew she would never be that woman.

“And what about you? You going to find yourself a nice black man? You going to marry someone else? Love…love another man? Have another man’s child!” He asked her, his voice shaking with rage and hurt, and heartbreak. “Is...is there another…do you…want another man?”

“I’ll never want anyone but you Caleb,” She admits brokenly, “I’ll never love anyone but you until the day I die.”

“But you expect me to!?” He raged, “Fuck! How can you expect me to touch another woman? How can you expect me to have babies with someone else?!”

“Its…its not the same.” She whimpers. 

“Why? Why is it not the same? Because I’m white? Because you think I can erase you with a pretty enough white woman?” He demanded, “Do...you think I love you less than you love me!?”

“Because you were always…always supposed to be with someone else, I borrowed you for a time, but you were never meant for me.” She tells him, heart broken. 

“Borrowed me?!” He hisses clearly enraged now, “Is that what we’re calling our marriage? Borrowed?!” 

“It ain’t even legal…” She began, closing her eyes unwilling to look at the hurt in his face.

“I don’t care what the government says, the church says, what anyone else says, in the eyes of God you are my wife, I don’t need a fucking paper to tell me that!” He tells her through gritted teeth. 

“Listen…this ain’t just about us anymore, we have a son, we…we have to think about Walter.” She tries again, sobbing.

“I am thinking about Walter! He needs us both Leah! He needs his daddy and his mama!” He rages, “You think just because he looks like me he ain’t going to grow up a black man? He needs his mama to help him navigate that, I can’t teach him that Leah! I can’t teach him how to be a good man, or a good husband and father if you won’t let me be those things!” 

“Black men get killed Caleb,” She sobs, “Don’t you understand that? If he has a chance to…be white, then I have to let him go have it…”

“He was named for a strong black man, his mama is a black woman, he is half you and half me, and I won’t pretend like you and your kin don’t exist, I won’t rob him of half his identity!” He hisses at her. “God damn it Leah, I can’t believe you would even suggest that! For him to grow up not knowing about your daddy!?”

“He won’t know daddy anyways, daddy died…” She chokes at that, “Daddy died, for no goddamned reason!”

“He died protecting you, that was the reason.” He amends, “It wasn’t right, but it wasn’t for no reason, I will forever be indebted to him for your life.”

“And what about the baby? Why did our baby have to die?” She asks brokenly. “What did our little baby do to anyone?” His eyes close on a wave of pain, tears flowing down his face.

“Nothing, our baby didn’t do nothing wrong.” He whispers agony in voice. “I would do anything to spare you this hurt, I would do anything to have been there to protect you, I am so sorry I failed all three of you.” 

“But you weren’t…” She says steeling herself to say it, knowing she was breaking his heart. “You weren’t, and none of this is your fault, but you weren’t there, and you can’t always be there, and this will never stop. You need to leave me, and take…and take our son, and give him a good life, a life that he deserves.”

“You need to understand me, woman,” He says, his tone sharp, his teeth gritted as he grasps her face to look at his blazing eyes, still shining with his tears. “I will never, never leave you, they will be putting my body in the ground and I’ll still be reaching for you! You need to let this idea go, you need to let it die, because they will have to drag me, away from you, and I will still come back on my god damned hands and fucking knees! Do you understand me! My last breath is going to be gasping your fucking name, I will never be parted from you!” 

“You wouldn’t go, not even for Walter?” She gasps, her breaths shaking in anguish.

“I love my son, I love my son with my whole heart,” He tells her fiercely, “But you, you come first, you’ve always come first, don’t you ever forget that! Don’t you act now like you don’t know that, my life is in your hands, my heart is yours, no you, means no me. I will NOT live without you,” 

“Caleb…” She tries.

“No! I won’t hear it, do you understand me! I will not listen to another word of this! You are my wife, that is OUR son, you are my only family. I ain’t got no one else, I will never speak to that vile old man, I will never marry again, I will father no other children that don’t come from you! If you can’t carry another baby, then so be it!”  He growls at her, furious. “I fought my father and my brother, I stopped being his son, I became your daddy’s son, and if you think for a moment I would dishonor him by going back to them on my belly just because things are hard for us right now…then you don’t know me the way you say you do! You are my god given soul mate Leah May, do you hear me! I’ll love you even after my body is cold and gone.” 

****

Tears streamed down her face, body shaking sobs, grief so raw she felt she would die from it. She wailed, and screamed, raging at him, loving him, aching for him, desperate for him and for his safety…Elle woke with a start, on the floor of the room, with Milo holding her, as she wept into his shirt. 

“Schatje, please…” He whispered brokenly, desperately, “Please wake up, it’s just a dream, what are you seeing?” 

“Why wouldn’t you leave? Why wouldn’t you take him and go, especially after we lost the baby?” Elle demanded, framing his face in her trembling hands, glaring at him. The tension seemed to leave his face as he looked at her. 

“Leah and Caleb?” He whispered, trying to place what she was saying. She nodded her head. “Elle?” He asked, again she nodded her head. At that he exhaled in relief. 

“Why wouldn’t you take him and go?” She asked, her tone less frantic now, more curious.

“How could…I?” He asked her simply, “How could I have left you?” 

“...How could you…Caleb…love…like that?” She asked, looking at him panicked. “To…not even have the desire to save himself, or their son…OUR son?” 

“How would…how would he have lived without her?” He retorted, looking at her as if he couldn’t comprehend her confusion. Elle felt like she was choking as she watched him, panic and alarm making her push herself out of his arms, and scramble away from him wide eyed.

“This…this is what you want for us? To love…enough that you would rather our children and you DIE than leave me?!” She demanded, “That I would…rather jump into your funeral pyre than live without you?!” 

“What?!” He gasped, moving toward her, “What did you say?” 

“I can’t do this! I can’t fall so in love with someone that I would die for them!” She yelled, her voice trembling.

“The…the nightmare where you burned…you dreamt you jumped into my funeral pyre?!” He asked, horror struck as he grasped her shoulders in his hands, “You killed yourself for me?! When?!”  Elle pushed him away, standing up backing away from him, wild eyed.

“I won’t…I can’t…I will never be able to live up to this! I can’t…oh shit I can’t breathe.” She gasped, placing her hands flat to her chest, feeling as if her chest were being squeezed. 

“Elle, schatje,” He called, moving to her, taking her face into his hands, “Easy, don’t fight me, look at me, tell me what’s happening?”

“Panic…panic attack.” She managed. “Please..stop touching me, I…I can’t…breathe.” He immediately released her backing up.  

“What do you need right now?” He asked her, his tone soothing and even.

“I need…I need…” She tried, unable to catch her breath, she felt her knees going out, before she could fall, he caught her, and gently eased her to the ground, before releasing her again. 

“Breathe for me,” He told her, “Look at me, focus on my face, breathe with me.” He said comfortingly, taking a deep breath, holding it and releasing, he followed it with another, and another, keeping an easy rhythm. Elle locked eyes with him, the room tunneling until all she could see was his piercing eyes, she focused on them with all her might. Trying to match his breathing. “That’s it, that’s my girl,” He whispered encouragingly. “Stay with me, schatje. I need you to tell me 5 things you see around you.”

“Wha…what?” She gasped out. 

“Name 5 things you see around you, go on, look, tell me.” He repeated, his tone calm and deep.

“Your face, your….eyes,” She began.

“Good, more, look around.” He coaxed.

“The…bed, the couch, the…window.” She managed finally.

“You are doing so good,” He praised, “Now four things you can feel,” 

“Uh, the…the ground, it’s cold, umm, my heart is pounding…I don’t know, I can’t feel anything else…” She told him her breathing was getting harsher.

“Yes you can, come on focus schatje, what else can you feel,” He pressed, his tone gentle.

“Uh the…rug is soft against my foot, my…my shirt is..is…rubbing against my skin.” She gasped out, trying to manage her breath.

“Breathe for me, you are doing amazingly well, now tell me 3 things you can hear,” He whispered, his voice warm and affectionate.

“You…your voice, it’s my favorite thing,” She told him, focusing on the sound of him, “the…birds, I can hear birds, you…breathing, I can hear you breathing.”

“I love your voice,” He told her, “I love how expressive it sounds, even when you're angry at me, I could listen to you yell at me forever.” He said, “Now two things you can smell.”

“Um, you…I can smell you.” She said her breathing evening out, sounding more and more like his. “You..smell so good all the time.”

“You smell like Roses and Vanilla, and I can’t ever seem to get enough of it.” He told her, “One more, schatje, what else can you smell.”

“Lavender…lavender from the sheets,”  She said, “I love that scent, it’s so…you.”

“Good, now what can you taste?” He asked, easing himself closer to her, placing his hand on her face gently.

“Bile,” She offered, her breathing much closer to normal, but still hitching. “I feel…sick.”

“That is very normal given the situation,” He agreed, “Can you stand?” She nodded, carefully making the attempt, he caught her around the shoulders to steady her. “Good, now we are going to go to the couch, and you’re going to sit down.” 

“Okay,” She breathed as he guided her with a hand on the small of her back and another on her shoulder. Carefully he deposited her on the couch, then he kneeled before her, looking at her pale face. 

“Do you feel like you might be sick?” He asked her, still careful not to touch her over much. Milo was working very hard to keep his tone calm and even, to keep his face neutral, when inside he was shaken. She…saw her self commit suicide over me?! When the fuck…and why would no one stop her! 

“No, the feeling has passed,” she whispered, placing her face into her shaking hands. “This…this is so embarrassing,” 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, given what’s happened and apparently continuing to happen…have you had panic attacks before?” He asked her. She shook her head.

“Not…in years.” She told him. “When I was in University, and…the day after I came here.” 

“Oh,” He said simply, feeling like an ass for not knowing she was struggling like this. 

“Christ, I'm so pathetic…” She sighed. 

“Elle, you were brutally attacked, and have been having nightmares nightly, and you are surrounded by complete strangers, and a man that’s insisting he’s your soulmate, how are you supposed to be handling this?” He asked her, arching an eyebrow, “Frankly I think you’re a superstar at dealing with shit shows, truly it’s astounding.”

“Me? Look at you, you're over here talking me through a panic attack, and waking up to me scream-crying in your shower, all while running the shit out of this house, and your business! I don’t see you having panic attacks, you’re always so god damned calm!” She hissed at him.

“Calm is my…default.” he told her, shrugging, “Outwardly anyways, but I’ve had panic attacks Elle, they are…horrible.”

“You’ve had panic attacks?” She asked genuinely doubtful. “You always know exactly what to say and do…I just can’t imagine.”

“I know what to say and do during a panic attack because I’ve had to ground myself many times before,” He explained, looking tired. “It is not pleasant, feeling this way, and I’m sorry that I’ve inadvertently triggered this for you.”

“Alone, you’ve had to deal with feeling like this alone?” She asked, her heart aching at the thought. He looked away, but she saw the muscle in his jaw tick as if in confirmation. “How can you be surrounded by people and still be…”

“Alone?” He offered, looking at her again, “Maybe…maybe something is wrong with me Elle, have you considered that? You said yesterday I was THE dream man, maybe I’m not that, maybe…maybe I am broken.” 

“I can’t love you the way you want,” She told him looking at the ceiling tears threatening, I want to…god help me I want to love you the way Leah loved Caleb…”I would never…I could never die for someone, willingly, with fucking joy.” 

“I…I wouldn’t want that from you.” He told her, his tone agonized. Want to protect you, want you to be safe, always fucking safe. 

“This is so fucked…this is just so fucking fucked!” She hissed. “I need…I need to be alone, can you please…leave me alone?”  He looked at her upturned face, willing her to look at him, hating how much he seemed to be hurting her…

“Okay,” He said finally, getting up, “I’ll leave you alone, if…if you need me…just…” 

“I’ll be fine,” She told him, dismissing him. He swallowed a sigh of frustration, and forced his legs to move as he headed to the door. As he walked out, he turned to look at her once more, tears were falling freely down her face, each one a knife in his chest, clenching his jaw, he willed himself to give her what she asked for, when all he wanted to do was run to her, to comfort her, to…make her stop hurting. Quietly he closed the door, leaning his back against it, he forced air into his lungs, trying to calm himself. If I can’t keep her safe, what fucking good am I?!