The water washed away, providing me instant air.
“You want to come for me, don’t you?” Asher asked, knowing I was right there for him.
I nodded, face smearing against the sand.
“At the next tide, I want you to come for me,” he commanded me.
I nod. It was an answer to the unasked questions. This was okay.
This was what I wanted. And it truly fucking was. I had not felt this invigorated with sex before, and I never want it to end. It shattered whatever restraint I had left.
“Fuck yes, Asher. Please!” I screamed.
He held my face down, body tensed, as the tide crashed up, blocking my air. He continued to fuck me relentlessly. I couldn’t help it. I was choking on water while my pussy convulsed through an orgasm.
I was so lost in my own euphoria that when the feeling kept riding through me, I noticed that Asher was coming for me, too.
His control finally splintered as he groaned my name against my skin. I spat out water and screamed in pleasure with no regard.
When our orgasms finally came crashing down, Asher pulled me upright, leaning back on his haunches while he was still inside of me. His movements softened. Slowed.
The intensity of my high still rolled through me. It then faded into something warm. Protective. Primal. He slowed his thrusts as his arms wrapped around my front.
His lips brushed against the side of my neck while his hand smoothed over my damp hair. A tear slipped free before I could even realize it had formed. His thumb caressed my cheek, catching it from falling further.
“I’m here, Lennon,” he whispered, exuding a soft presence here with me.
Slowly, he withdrew from me and turned me into his chest. I wrapped myself around him without thinking, clinging onto him for dear life.
“No one’s ever made me feel that safe,” I murmured against his chest, hoping he understood the meaning of my words. “Thank you.”
He nodded, hoisting me up into his arms without a word and carrying me back to the campsite for the rest of the night to check off our bucket list item.
My mind flitted over an idea—a ridiculous idea—but an intrusive thought nonetheless.
A scary thought. Maybe one I’d never considered before.
Was this still about the bucket list?
Or had something changed?
Asher
On our way back to Lennon’s apartment, an exhaustion washed over me that honestly felt more good than bad. Falling asleep under the stars with Lennon in my arms, waking up next to her soft features beside me—it all started to feel like we were lost in one another. And I couldn’t bear the thought of being found.
Day by day, I was forgetting how ill I truly was. There were moments I knew Lennon forgot how badly she wanted to die. I knew it. I could see it in the mist of her perfect emerald eyes, how present she was—how present she was withme.
When I first met Lennon, venom had lived in her stare. Not just when she looked at me, but whenever she looked at anyone. She despised the world around her. Her spark had been stolen right from her very aura.
She carried so much pain on her shoulders that the sight of everyone else living a beautiful life felt like an insult. How dare anyone enjoy their days in her presence when all she could muster were thoughts of death?
Even though it hadn’t been long, there were moments when her pain no longer existed.
Don’t get me wrong, I knew it was still there. It would always be there, sitting deep within her bones, the weight on her shoulders aching through her muscles.
But sometimes that ever-present agony sat benign. It played hide and seek, remaining hidden until something reminded her that she was supposed to be angry. Hurt. Sad.
Sitting in the rear of the car as Duke transported us back to reality, I saw the pain slowly seep into her heart again. As much as I wished it gone, I knew it was only veiled.
