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“I will wait as long as I must, Geneviève.” Eli’s words were a whisper against my hair as he held me. “There is no other for me.”
“But I can’t—”
He kissed me, cutting off any careless words that endangered our vow. And when he pulled back, I saw the acceptance in his eyes. I knew that he would accept being banned from his homeland before ending our relationship.
“It’s not doubt in you,” I whispered. “How do I pass on a chronic disease? What I am . . .”
“I know.” Eli smiled, not sadly but in that damned understanding way of his. He made it easy to be vulnerable. He acceptedme, not the confident façade. Me. All of me.
But I was done being vulnerable tonight. I pulled away, out of his arms.
“Geneviève?” Eli stood, but I put a hand on his chest. He asked, “Did I offend—"
“Hush a minute . . .?” I still sounded vulnerable and raw, but that was where I was today. I reached out and unfastened Eli’s trousers, shoved the fabric so they slid to the floor, and then asked, “Rules?”
He smiled. “I have none with you. I never have.”
I knelt in front of him. “Still no objections?”
He swallowed hard. “None. . . although I feel like you deserve a more romantic . . .”
His words ended as I took him into my mouth. Anything he said after that was in his own language, which I’ve yet to learn. To me it all sounds magical, but the taste of Eli, the scent of him, that was magical, too. I loved him, despite knowing I was unable to give him the life he needed.
Today though, I would give him what I could. I would give him my love and my touch.
I felt his hand grip my hair and moaned at the feeling, at the knowledge that I was making him feel as desperate as he’d made me. The vibrations from my moan had him bucking forward, and I thought that right here right now was all I needed. This was romance enough for me. It wasn’t fancy meals or any of the rest, but the man was literally trying to make me a queen. He’d fought at my side, stitched my wounds, and met my family. And hearing him beg me in words I couldn’t understand, feeling his need for me, was everything.
Afterwards he pulled me back into his arms, and we fell asleep on his office sofa. We both still had our shirts on, but Eli tugged a woven blanket over my bare ass and legs.
The next thing I knew was that Eli was interrupting a very good dream. He said my name, but not like in the dream. “Geneviève!”
Eli shook my shoulder harder.
“Geneviève . . . love . . . I am trying to follow your rules here.” Eli sounded frustrated.
I opened my eyes to realize that I’d been doing more than dreaming. I was astride Eli, and he was holding me away from him like I was a feral cat. It was mortifying.
“Fuck!” I backed away, tangled in the blanket and falling to the floor in a thoroughly graceless heap. I stared at him. “Did we . . .?”
“No.” Eli stood and offered me a hand as if I hadn’t been trying to mount him in our sleep.
I let him pull me to my feet. “I’m so sorry. Gah. I just . . . you . . .”
“Geneviève.” He tilted my head with a finger under my chin, so we made eye contact. “I would only be sorry because it’s not what you want.”
I hadn’t ever been so long celibate, and it’s not like we were hands off. It just wasn’t enough. I had thoughts, urges, and I felt like I was selfish for mentioning any of them.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“More.”
“More?” he repeated.
“Touching. Orgasms. Hell, toys. I feel like I’m constantly on the edge of jumping you,” I admitted. “It’s worse every day since we started courting.”
Eli pulled me into an embrace. After a few moments he said, “Then we’ll figure out how to deal with it.”
He sounded hesitant, and I was again mortified.
