35. How It Works #4
He halts, a deliberate pause before grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the table. I sit up on my elbow, the sudden distance between us catching me off guard.
A surge of disappointment twists in my chest, but I refuse to let it show. “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with curiosity and a hint of frustration.
He gives me that wicked smile, the one that always makes my heart skip. “Feasting,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He settles into the chair, clearly enjoying himself.
Before I can react, before I can even process the sudden emptiness between us, he pulls me closer until I hang slightly over the edge, and his lips are on me again, his tongue swirling and teasing in all the right places. I gasp for breath and can’t control the sounds that escape.
Every fiber in my body screams for more, for him, all of him, right now.
My fingers tangle in his hair as he dines with an intensity, a hunger, that leaves me breathless. I can’t contain the wave of pleasure that crashes over me, the orgasm rolling through my body like a wildfire. “Oberon . . .” I whisper, breathlessly repeating his name like it is the only word I know.
He stands, pulling me toward him, his hands firm as he drags me across the table. His mouth finds mine again, deep and commanding, before he pulls back, his lips brushing against my ear. “I love the way you taste,” he purrs, the sound of it sending a shiver straight through me. “Fucking delicious.”
I reach down, my hand finding him.
As I start stroking, he tilts his head back, a deep, throaty groan escaping his lips. “Fuck . . .”
I slide off the table, dropping to my knees, catching his attention for just a moment. “My turn,” I murmur, a wicked grin curling on my lips.
Before he can say a word, I take him into my mouth, all heat and hunger, giving him no time to respond.
My hand still grips the base of him, while his length rests deep in my throat. I swirl and tease the head with my tongue, each movement driving him closer to the edge.
His breath comes in ragged gasps, and soft moans slip from his lips. I don't stop until I notice his legs beginning to tremble with pleasure.
I stand, but before I can do anything else, he lifts me with a feral look in his eyes and throws me onto the bed.
He is on me instantly, his lips finding mine a split second before he enters me, thrusting with savage force.
All control slips through his fingers. I scream out in pleasure, scratching and clawing at his skin, begging for more.
I roll my hips with every powerful push of his, matching his rhythm to urge him deeper.
In a swift and fluent motion, he rolls me over, my face finds the pillow as he grabs my ass and pulls it up to him, thrusting faster and harder.
I can’t control the waves of pleasure one after the other.
I scream his name as he goes deeper until his own climax pulses inside of me, and he collapses on the bed.
We lie there in silence for a while, the weight of the world still pressing down on both of us, but for now, there is something lighter between us.
I can feel it, the slight shift, the momentary release from the crushing pressure he's been carrying.
His breath still comes in slow, uneven pants as he rests his forehead against mine, our bodies still tangled together. I can feel his heartbeat steadying. I know that his fight isn’t over, that the battle inside him is far from finished.
But for tonight, I allow myself to believe that it isn’t all-consuming, that there are moments when the weight can lift, if only for a while, a small distraction we both need.
Oberon smirks as he leans in and kisses my forehead, his voice low and teasing. “Told you I’m worth the wait.”
I roll my eyes, unable to hide the grin tugging at my lips. “So arrogant, but I’ll admit, you might be onto something.”
For a moment, I can forget everything outside these four walls, the unsaid things, the struggles, the choices, the sacrifices.
The silence isn’t suffocating anymore. It is the kind of silence that comes with understanding, with shared experiences.
He doesn’t need to explain. I can feel it in the way he holds me.
“It’s not over,” he murmurs, his tone shifting, serious again. “I may still have to do things neither of us will like,” his voice trails off.
I don’t say anything at first, just tracing circles on his skin with my fingertips. There is no need for words. He doesn’t need to be fixed. We are here, and that is enough for now.
Finally, I break the silence with a light-hearted tease. “Well, at least we’ve lightened some of our . . . loads.”
He lets out a low laugh, a sound that rumbles in his chest, and for the first time since his return, I see a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Is that how it works?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Maybe not. But it works for tonight.”
We stay like that for a while, the weight of everything still lingering but a little less heavy. And for tonight, I am content to hold onto that, knowing that maybe, just maybe, we have found a way to carry it together.