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I made things up as we went along, but I kept the book in my hands anyway. Because Emma needed to see the power in words and believe in some magic. Some goodness.
So, I turned on my side and ran a long finger along Rory’s beautiful, oval face. And then I told her the story of Astraeia.
It sounded juvenile, how I’d memorized this story from beginning to end. But it did get me through some very, very hard times.
It also opened my eyes to the world I wanted to belong to. Faith in fate.Fated by faith.
“Funny, how old stories, old love, old memories can feel so golden.”
Rory pulled me close and planted a tender kiss on my forehead. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a childhood, Benjamin.”
“I’m sorry too. But neither did you, and look where you are. I think that’s what’s most important—not getting so consumed by your past that you practically forget you also have a present.”
She smiled. “It’s this thing about childhood. When we grow up, we look at it from the point of view of all we could have done and been—and I get it. Because when we’re in it, when we’re grubby kids trying to sort out the problems that seem so much larger than life, we don’t have any perspective on these things.”
“And then, when we get old, things get put into perspective and we begin wishing.”
Rory’s eyes glimmered with hope. “What if we didn’t have to keep wishing? What if we could just be, just do, just live?”
In a few simple lines, she’d summed up the very beat of my heart and everything I wanted to embody.
I drew myself closer to her and leaned in to kiss her lips. It began as a slow descent, a falling into something that would only make me rise. She sighed and leaned in too, deepening our kiss.
The minutes wove on and on, and our hands traveled the length of our bodies. I heard her little moans in my mouth and straddled her closer.
We undid each other’s clothes.
She laid me on my back, pressing her skin to mine, her tongue licking and exploring my mouth. Waves of her soft hair fell around her face as she kissed me.
I ran my fingers through the softness and grasped the back of her neck, my mouth aching for more of her. I knew she could feel how hard I was beneath the thin cloth of my shorts.
She slowly unbuttoned and unzipped them, reaching inside to coax out my hardness. I arched against her hand.
“Benjamin.” She wiggled against me, pulling my shorts down. When they were low enough, I kicked them off and ran my hands over her bare skin.
She burned at my touch, hot and wet as she slid against my length, knees around my waist.
“I want you.” She bit my neck, then my shoulder—light nips, only a taste of what I wanted. She slid up and against me, burying her face in my neck.
Her nails dug marks into my arms.
I twisted out from under her and held her hips from behind. Running my hands over her back and sides, I helped her lower herself onto her elbows.
I drew my hard cock between her thighs and down her ass, rubbing the head around the rim of her dripping entrance. I would never not be in awe of how beautiful Rory was when she was most vulnerable.
She mewled and leaned against me. Bringing her hips back, I slid my cock over the lips of her pussy, reveling in the sensation of her fevered body against my own.
“Please, Benjamin,” she moaned, spreading her knees and arching toward the ground. Her hips rose higher, making her more vulnerable, more open, more tender.
I planted a kiss on the little hollow of her back and drew my cock to her pussy, entering it with a sigh. Her blazing heat enveloped me, and I groaned.
She squeezed herself around my cock, drawing out a quick gasp. I pulled back out and re-entered. Her warmth drove me crazy, insane, needing more, needing it all.
I thrust into her hard and fast, my thumb playing with the little bud on top. She moaned under the pressure and spread her thighs wider.
My other hand was wrapped around her hair and tracing the stars on the bare skin of her back. I pressed my fingers against her clit, rubbing hard as I buried myself into her, each thrust more intense than the last.
“Benjamin,” she moaned. “I’m...”
