Smoke.
1286 Words
That was all. But it hit harder than anything else. We didn’t speak as we stood in the living room. There was nothing to say. The air between us had already said too much. No, there were a lot of questions to ask. What is happening? Why did he come to see me?
So on and on.
Why are my hands trembling? And my heart is pounding so fast?
I walked ahead, barefoot against the marble floor, robe still damp against my skin. I could feel him behind me.
His scent moved in slowly, dark spice, warm musk, and the sharp pull of sandalwood. I reached the dining table first. We never used to sit here. We always ended up somewhere else. The kitchen. The floor. Against the walls.
Banging each other.
This is dangerous. He needs to leave. I turned to him once more with a blank expression.
“Why are you here, Avec?”
“I came to see you.” He responded.
“I don’t believe you.” I blurted. “You must have a questionable reason for coming to see me. I’m not that stupid.”
He chuckled, moving closer to me. I perceived his hot breath on my face as he leaned closer to me. “I miss you, sweetheart.”
“What, you don’t mean…”
His lips smashed against mine. I hesitated for a second and got carried away as he kissed me once more, deepening his soft lips on mine. I grabbed his neck and sucked his lower lip.
It’s been so f*****g long I missed him. He was just my type.
Our mouths crashed greedily. Longing wrapped in tension, sealed in silence for too long. My hands found his shoulders, strong beneath his coat, and I pushed it off in one motion. It hit the floor with a thud. His fingers curled into my robe, pulling it loose. The fabric fell open.
We didn’t stop kissing.
I needed him inside me. I miss him so much. I know this is wrong. I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t help it.
His lips were hot, open, rough with emotion. My teeth caught his lower lip, and he groaned, low and deep in his throat. His hands were on my chest, trailing down. The air was thick now.
Pheromones. His scent and mine filled us like smoke.
Two Alphas.
Our bodies pressed close, fighting for dominance even in the kiss, lips biting, tongues clashing, breathing heavy. I ripped open his shirt, buttons flying somewhere I didn’t care about. My hands ran across his bare skin.
He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me harder. The table behind met my thighs when Avec lifted me onto the table in one strong motion. He pushed me back onto it. He climbed on top of me. Mouth on my throat. Hands in my hair.
“I f*****g miss you,” he murmured. “Ahhh…Damon…”
Our clothes disappeared.
My back arched as I clung to him, arms around his shoulders, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The table creaked beneath us, but he didn’t stop. His lips moved down my throat once more, slow and burning. I felt his breath against my skin, hot, uneven, heavy with need. My fingers sank into his hair, and I gasped when his hands gripped my thighs, spreading me open for him.
“Damon…” he whispered against my thigh when he kissed it. “Tell me to stop.”
I pulled him closer instead, pressing my forehead to his. “Don’t you dare.”
Our mouths met again. He lowered me onto the table and entered me slowly.
I gasped.
“I miss your asshole. It’s the f*****g best.” Avec groaned loudly. “I’ve not seen anyone who makes me feel whole the way you make me feel.”
I shivered. “Then f**k me like you mean it. I miss how thick your d**k gets when it’s inside me.”
My legs tightened around his waist, and my arms around his neck. He felt so full inside me. I felt so alive.
He moved. Thrusts. Slowly. Increasing his pace.
“You are f*****g tight, baby,” he moaned.
“Avec, ram me. f**k me so bad.” He went faster, thrusting inside me. I held my boner and stroked it as he slammed into me.
“More!” I cried out. “Avec, don’t stop.” I breathed. “Don’t let go.”
“I won’t, baby,” he answered.
The tension tightened. Moans, gasps, whispered names. Our past, our pain, all of it poured into this moment. He didn’t let me go. Even after the heat between us cooled on the table, after our bodies stopped trembling, he didn’t move.
Avec’s arms tightened around me as if I might vanish the second he loosened his grip.
When he finally lifted me again, he dropped me gently onto the long velvet couch. He climbed on top of me again, pressing me down into the cushions, kissing me like a man starved. My fingers gripped his back as he rocked against me, already hard again.
“Don’t run from me,” he whispered against my lips, his voice rough, thick with want.
“I didn’t, baby,” I breathed.
“You did.”
He slid into me again, deeper, harder this time. My head tipped back. My mouth opened. A moan escaped.
“Ahhhh…Damon…you taste so good.” He slammed into me. “I don’t want her,” he said through clenched teeth. “I want you, Damon. I’ve always wanted you.”
His hips snapped forward, and I gasped, tightening around him.
“I tried to forget you,” he groaned. “But nothing… nothing feels like this.”
We’re just stuck in this endless loop.
Each time someone I care about dies, a piece of me breaks. Every day, I pretend I’m okay. I smile so no one sees the pain. But I’m tired. I’m so tired of pretending.
I miss my siblings.
Since Braila left, everything has fallen apart. I begged her to come home, but she won’t even look at me. She turns her face away. Like I don’t matter anymore.
And Gifford… he just keeps going. Like none of this is his fault. Like nothing happened, makes me want to kill him.
Braila has rejected us. But why do we have this empty void within us that no matter how we fill it up? How many years have passed, we still sense it.
“Uncle Damon.”
My heart skipped. My ears perked up before I even looked. His eyes met mine. Oh, it was him. I sighed. That voice... soft, calm and deep. I would recognize it anywhere. For a moment, I thought he was Ren. The way he moved, the sound of his voice.
“Hey, kid,” I chuckled, lightening the moment. “What’s up?”
His softened gaze wandered for a second before he popped the question. “Did I keep you waiting?” He slipped off his coat, pulled out a chair, and sat down with ease.
“No, Ezra. It’s fine.”
He put his coat across his lap. “You called for me. Did something happen?”
Ezra has soft, shoulder-length hair that shines like silk. His hair is silver, black, mixed gently like the wind. His extended eyelashes are the same. He’s pretty tall and has piercing gray eyes that seem to see everything. His face is kind of cute but holds a mysterious air.
His body is slender but strong, with muscles and clear abs. He walks with a quiet, confident grace, like a model on a runway.
- Writer
