The door clicks shut behind us. Moonlight filters through the curtains, silvering the edges of her hair, her face. She turns to me, her eyes glassy, her lips parted like she’s holding back everything she’s wanted to say for sixty years.
And then she doesn’t hold back at all.
She steps into me, her hands coming to my face, pulling me down to her. Her mouth meets mine with a hunger that steals the air from my lungs. Tears sting my eyes even as I kiss her back, desperate, like I’ve been waiting in the dark and she is the light flooding in.
“God, Clara,” I whisper against her lips, my voice breaking. “You’re here. You’re real. I never thought I’d touch you again.”
Her hand trembles as it presses over my heart. “I never stopped loving you,” she breathes, and the words slice me open in the most beautiful way.
We kiss again, harder, deeper, our tears mingling with the urgency of mouths that can’t stop. My hands skim her waist, herback, memorizing every inch as though I’ve been starved for her—and I have. Decades of longing pour out of me in every touch, every kiss.
She pulls back just far enough to look at me, her eyes burning with both relief and joy. Her fingers trail down my cheek, across my jaw, and she whispers the words that undo me completely, “Take me, Marcel.”
The air between us shudders. My throat works around a broken sound, half a groan, half a prayer. I cup her face, my forehead pressed to hers, and breathe, “Are you sure?”
She nods, tears spilling freely, her lips brushing mine with the answer. “Forever sure.”
Something inside me breaks loose. Years of restraint, of waiting, of silent prayers. My hands move with care, sliding down her arms, pulling her against me. We kiss again, slower now, deeper, as I walk her back toward the bed. Each step feels like crossing a threshold, each kiss a renewed vow.
When we reach the edge of the mattress, I pause, just looking at her. Her cheeks flushed, her chest rising in quick, uneven breaths, her eyes wide and shimmering with everything I’ve ever wanted reflecting back at me.
“You were my first, you’ll be my last, and you’ll forever be my only,” I whisper, brushing my thumb across her lips. “In life, in death, in every shadow in between.”
Her answering smile is tremulous, radiant. “I don’t know how I deserved your devotion. Thank you, Marcel, for waiting for me, for staying. I want to prove to you every day for the rest of eternity that you made the right choice. I’ll show you how thankful I am that you chose the possibility of me over heaven that awaits us.”
Something inside her shifts, a determination I don’t recognize until she pulls gently from my arms. For a moment I think she’s stepping away, but then Clara lowers herself in frontof me, her hands steady even as her eyes shine with tears and fire.
“Clara,” I whisper, stunned, the sound breaking in my throat. “What are you?—”
She looks up at me, her voice soft but unshakable. “I want to show you what you mean to me. Let me, Marcel.”
My breath catches. I’ve never seen adoration like this, never felt so completely undone. My hands twitch at my sides, unsure whether to stop her or pull her closer. “I don’t…I’ve never…” The words falter, clumsy, the heat in my face betraying me.
Her smile curves, tremulous but sure, as her fingers move to my belt. The clink of the buckle echoes in the quiet, her touch both reverent and daring as she eases it open. My chest heaves, my pulse hammering. When she unbuttons my jeans and slides the zipper down, her knuckles brush my skin, and the air leaves me in a ragged gasp.
“Then trust me,” she whispers. “Trust that I want to make you feel good, Cowboy.”
When her hand frees me, the ache of being bared to her nearly doubles me over. My eyes slam shut for a heartbeat, the sound that escapes me half-groan, half-prayer. When I force them open again, she’s still watching me, her gaze steady and full of quiet fire.
I reach for her without thinking, my hand cupping her jaw, thumb brushing over the softness of her cheek. “God, Clara,” I rasp, every word trembling. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” My voice cracks, raw with awe. “You make me feel like I’ll never survive this…but I don’t care if I do.”
She leans into my touch, her lips parting, her breath warm against my skin. The innocence of her affection collides with the hunger in her gaze, and for the first time in a lifetime of waiting, I surrender fully.
“Take me in your mouth, Firefly,” I whisper, voice breaking as my fingers thread into her hair.
Her lips brush the tip of me, feather-light, and I nearly come undone before she’s even begun. A strangled groan claws out of my chest, my hand tightening gently at her jaw as if to anchor myself.
“Clara…” My voice is a rasp, broken. “I—God help me, I can’t?—”
But then she closes her mouth over me, and the world fractures. Heat and wet surround me, a bliss I never thought I’d know, and my knees nearly give way. I’ve dreamed of her for decades, haunted myself with thoughts of her, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
I stroke my thumb along her cheek, my fingers trembling in her hair. “Jesus Christ, you’re…you’re really…” The words break into a groan as she sinks lower, taking more of me, the wet sound filling the room.
She hums softly around me, and I jolt, hips bucking forward before I can stop myself. Shame and want crash together, but her hand steadies me, holding me firm while she works me deeper.
My head tips back, a ragged moan escaping me. “You’re killing me, Clara. God, you’re going to ruin me for the rest of eternity.” My voice is raw, wrecked, every word pulled from a place I can’t control.
She pulls back, lips glistening, eyes burning as she looks up at me, breath warm against my skin. “Good,” she whispers, voice husky. “That’s how I want you.”
