Chapter Forty-Seven

Loncey

I have no clue what time it is when Maeve and I finally walk back through the door to her apartment, but I know it's the middle of the night. I suppose I have my jetlag to thank for me not feeling as exhausted as Maeve looks as she sways on the spot while trying to take her boots off.

"Let me help," I say, dropping down to the floor and unzipping them. I slide them off her feet then put them neatly to the side. Staying low, I unlace and remove my Converse then put them next to Maeve's boots. I smile at the sight of our shoes together. I like it more than is possibly rational.

"I'm bloody knackered but I'm also so fecking hungry."

"I can make us something to eat and I'll bring it to you in bed," I say, still on my knees.

Maeve smiles down at me. "Stop being so fucking perfect. I'll never want you to leave."

I freeze. It's the first time one of us has referred to me leaving since I arrived. I realize now that the lack of reference has meant we've been living in this bubble where our distance doesn't exist, where Maeve and I are together, always. But that's not the case.

It's not like what Maeve said burst the bubble but nonetheless I feel like I've been forcefully made to emerge from that sweet, safe cocoon.

Rather than admit this to her or dwell on it a second further, I jump into action. Namely, I grab Maeve just below her knees and take her with me as I stand up. She bends over my shoulder and I carry her through her apartment as her giggling screams fill the vast space.

"Jesus, Loncey! You're going to break your back!"

"You've seen me in the gym. I'm a machine!" I joke.

"Ah feck, no, not the stairs."

"Yes, the stairs," I say and I take them two at a time. Sure, my thighs are burning and my lower back feels every single one of my thirty-seven years but I'm not even close to putting her down. I'm sure it reveals something about the toxic masculinity that still lives inside me despite my many best efforts to eradicate it, but I like carrying Maeve like this. I like making her laugh like a child getting tickled. I like feeling the weight of her in my arms, wrapped around my body. I love knowing that I'm making her smile. I love having her in my arms. I love… her.

Fuck.

I love Maeve.

I love Maeve and in less than a week I have to get on a plane and leave her until… I don't know when. I love Maeve and I have to live on the opposite side of the world to her. I love Maeve and the thought of being apart again from her feels like hell.

These are the thoughts that fill my head as I turn the corner into Maeve's room and then finally throw her down on the bed. If I hadn't just realized how deeply in love with her I am, I'd know it now as I watch her fall back. Her honey-colored hair surrounds her like a lion's mane, her bottle-green eyes sparkle, and her smile – that smile that I feel nobody but me gets to see – literally swells the chambers of my heart.

"You're so beautiful, Maeve," I tell her and that promptly silences her giggles.

The smile slips, but only a little. She puts her hands above her head.

"Come here and kiss me," she says and it's so sweet and seductive that a meteor shower moving in the opposite direction couldn't stop me from climbing up on the bed and tucking my legs between hers. I lower myself slowly.

"Is this okay?" I ask.

"This is okay," she says and she wraps her arms around me.

"You became an aunt today," I say and then kiss the tip of her nose.

"I did." Her smile is broad and unstoppable again. "I'm so pleased she's here. And she's okay."

"She's an adorable little baby." I nuzzle my nose against her cheek.

"I wish they'd tell us her name. I know they already have one."

"Let them have their time. It's been a wild day for them."

"It really has. You… You were incredible today," Maeve says, her eyes misting over. "And you must be exhausted after you got such little sleep last night."

"I'm grand," I say in my best Irish accent. "Am I getting better?"

Maeve scrunches up her nose. "I think it's best you keep your mouth for kissing," she says. "Speaking of which, I'm still waiting."

I don't make her wait a second longer. I bring my lips to hers and gently, gently press my mouth against hers. Pulling her top lip between mine, I'm only partly surprised when she opens her mouth fully for me. And then I dive right in.

We kiss for what feels like hours but I know it's only minutes and yet so much happens in that time. Maeve makes the sweetest sounds. Her hands explore my body, up and down my back before getting lost in my locs. And I leave her mouth on occasion to litter her neck, earlobe and jaw with kisses.

At one point, Maeve wraps her legs around me, bringing the center of her closer to the center of me.

"Is that okay?" she asks. "I just want to be closer to you."

"It's very okay. And I feel the same."

I'd be lying if I said it's easy to keep still, to not rock my hard cock up and against her warm, supple body. It would be a total mistruth to say I don't think about what this would be like if we were completely naked, if denim and cotton weren't separating our skin. But if anything, these fantasies only heighten my desire and my enjoyment of this moment. They don't take anything away.

"I could stay like this forever," I say, kissing her hairline as I lift my body enough to smooth her hair away from her face.

"Me too," she says.

And we kiss some more. Again, minutes that feel like hours go by and it's only when I hear the gurgling growl of Maeve's stomach that I remember how she said she was hungry. I push up on my hands above her.

"I said I'd feed you," I say and ready myself to get up but her hands move to grip my forearms.

"I'm not hungry any more," she says and her voice is small and almost frail sounding. "And I… I want to try something."

"Oh?"

"I want… I want you to come. You know, have an orgasm. With me watching."

"Maeve, I don't—"

"No, sorry, Loncey, this isn't about what you want. It's about what I want. Or what I think I want."

"Maeve, if you're not sure, we shouldn't even be talking about it."

"No." She squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again and the green in her irises is bright and bold. "I know I want this. I want to know what it's like when you come, when you feel good, in that way."

I lower down to my elbows. "How… how do you want it to happen?"

"I don't know," she says. "Would you mind doing it yourself? I don't feel like it's something I want to do, or maybe even could do. But I want to be there. I… I want to watch."

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

"I know," she says and her smiles makes all her features soften. "I really do believe you when you say that."

"Good." I glance up and, looking out of Maeve's floor-to-ceiling windows, I see just how dark the night is. Lights from surrounding buildings light up the sky but that doesn't stop a few stars being visible above us. I can see the three bright stars of Orion's belt. I can see the firework-like arrangement that is the Pleiades star cluster and close to them, I think I can even make out the faint outline of Taurus.

"Please, Loncey," she says and her hand comes up to cup my cheek. "I don't know when or if I may feel like this again. I want to do this now, if you do."

"I only want to do this if you're completely comfortable," I say and, in my mind, it's the last time I'll check.

"I'm comfortable," she says. "With you."

And I see it. The trust. It's there in her eyes and in the way her hand moves down the front of my body and finds the buckle of my belt.

I roll to the side but stay close. "Here's how it's going to happen," I say and it amuses me momentarily how my Dom voice returns so easily. "I'm going to lie like this, by your side, and I'm going to start touching myself. Find a pillow for your head and get comfortable. If you want, you can look down and see what my hand's doing. Or if you prefer, you can keep your eyes on mine. I'll be looking at you, Maeve, and I want you to keep communicating with me. I want you to tell me when something doesn't feel good, if you want me to stop."

"Okay," she says.

I look away again. "I should close the curtains."

"No, don't. I like seeing the stars above your head. And nobody can see in. We're too high up."

"Little Miss Penthouse," I tease. "Okay, stars it is. Get a pillow."

Maeve reaches back behind her head and she pulls one of the pillows there down and under her. When she's settled, I reposition myself so I'm lying next to her but while my upper body is pressed against hers, my hips and legs aren't. I lay back momentarily and undo my belt and lower the fly on my jeans. My dick is already half-hard as I pull it free.

As I give it a slow first stroke, I groan. I wish I didn't. I wish I could swallow it back. I wish I could block Maeve's ears from it, but it's too late. I keep my eyes pinned on Maeve.

"Sorry," I say.

"No, Loncey, don't be sorry. I asked for this. I want your noises. I want your facial expressions. I want to know what you look, what you sound like when you come."

Maeve is not talking dirty. She's so far from specifically saying certain things to get me more turned on and yet that's exactly what's happening as I squeeze my dick harder.

"You turn me on so much," I tell her and she looks so proud, so pleased, I have half a mind to shower her with more praise but I want to take this slow. I want to get this right.

I also want to enjoy it. So I take in a few deep breaths and start to slowly, slowly stroke my dick. It's dry and rough, but doing so makes me realize in no time at all just how aroused I am, and how very close to climax I could be. I close my eyes and dive my hand down a little lower and cup my balls, feeling how tight they are.

"Are you okay?" Maeve says and I open my eyes to see her propped up on her elbows looking down at my hand.

"I'm fine," I say. "No, fuck. I'm good. Really good. Just need a bit of spit."

I bring my hand to my mouth.

"Wait!" Maeve's fingers wrap around my wrist and she moves my hand closer to her mouth. A second later, she spits in my hand while her eyes stay on mine and it's quite possibly the hottest moment I've ever shared with another human, which makes no sense considering all the many dirty, dirty things I've done with partners.

Lowering my hand back to my cock, I groan once again as the lubrication makes the slide feel so much better.

"Fuck, yes," I grit out.

Maeve's eyes drop from holding mine to where my hand is moving. "It looks so… dark and red," she says.

I laugh a little at that. "There's a lot of blood in there right now."

"Hmm," Maeve hums thoughtfully. "What can I do? I want to, you know, help."

I want to tell Maeve I don't need much help, that I'll come easily and very happily in no time with just her eyes on mine and her body next to mine, but I want to involve her. I want her to feel part of this when that is exactly what she's asking for.

"I've never told anyone this before," I say, "but I really like my neck to be kissed. Could you do that?"

Maeve blinks at me. "Why have you never told anybody that?"

"I don't know." I shrug and I'm actually glad for this conversation topic to hold off my pending orgasm. "I like a lot of things, and I guess this one is something that has never looked especially good on camera so I never mentioned it."

"You really only think about what looks good on camera?"

I give her a one-shoulder shrug and return to stroking myself. "It's kind of important in my work."

"I know I shouldn't be asking this, especially not right now, but what about when it's not work. Didn't you want to tell someone then?"

Words dry up in my throat. "I haven't been with anyone off-camera for a long time."

Maeve doesn't say anything but she doesn't have to. Her expression is one of near sadness, like she feels sorry for me. And it irritates me as much as it alarms me. Maybe Maeve is right. Maybe it is sad that I haven't told anyone.

"Well, I'm happy you told me," she says finally. "Now lean back so I can give your neck some attention."

I do as I'm told and as soon as her lips start grazing the column of my neck, my eyes close and a long and ragged exhale leaves my mouth. Her tongue darts out to caress my skin and I shudder, actually shudder. I can't remember the last time somebody made me shudder during sex. Maybe nobody ever has. It's a reaction I pride myself on eliciting from my partners, but I'd never wondered before if I was capable of responding to touch in that way.

But Maeve has just proved that I am.

"Don't stop, Maeve," I tell her and I move my wrist faster, squeezing my fingers around the head each time they reach the top.

She kisses a trail down one side of my neck.

"Your skin is so soft," she says before she moves to do the same to the other side. "And you taste so sweet. Like maple syrup."

Her words are so simple and so innocent and yet, again they have a great effect on me. An emotional effect. I have no idea why but I almost want to cry.

Maeve starts sucking on a spot on my neck and her hand makes a fist out of the material of my T-shirt, pulling it up, which I'm grateful for because I'm almost certain I'm going to come very soon.

"Maeve, are you sure you—"

"Yes, Loncey, yes," she says into my neck and then she pulls up and says it again as we stare into each other's eyes.

"I… I…" I try to tell her how I feel. I really, really do, but my orgasm is charging straight for me and it feels like I'm blacking out, losing control, coming undone. This doesn't normally happen. Normally, I know and can predict every single millisecond of my climax but that feels impossible now. Everything feels impossible but surrendering myself to this moment and to Maeve who continues to look at me like I am the brightest star in the night sky.

"Come for me, Loncey," she says and I hear the bravery in her voice. These are not words that Maeve says uncomplicatedly or effortlessly, and I love her for it.

I love her. I love Maeve.

I hold her gaze and I take my hand off my dick. Staring into her eyes, with what little consciousness I feel is left, I replay those words and I recall the touch of her lips to my neck. I watch her smile grow, and I come. It's like a riptide pulling my body in every direction, and pleasure is in every stretch, every single millisecond of the pull. I shudder, I shake, I tremble and I shiver. And it doesn't stop.

I come and I come and I come. I'm only aware of coming back to my body when I feel my dick twitch as it spurts and spills. It continues to jolts up and down, up and down until it's spent which takes an unusually long time.

I don't know if my eyes are open or closed. I don't know if I keep looking at Maeve or not. I just know that I see stars. More stars than I've ever seen in my life.

It's chaotic. It's catastrophic. It's completely out of my control.

Just like my love for her.

*****

I wake to the sound of my phone ringing. I can't remember cleaning myself up but I can tell that I am clean. Maeve must have done it. I can't remember stripping or brushing my teeth, but I hope I managed to do that myself. I definitely don't remember climbing into bed, but somehow I'm here lying in just my boxers and getting woken up by the lilting melody of my ringtone and the buzzing of the device's vibrations. Taking a moment to realize the light filling the room must mean it's well into morning, I reach out for it with only one eye open. When I see whose number it is lighting up the screen, I sit and wake all the way up.

"Shit," I say.

"Who is it?" Maeve asks as she comes to sit up too.

"Taylor and it's late in Vegas. This can't be good."

Maeve's hand lands on my arm.

"I'm here," she says, and I finally feel brave enough to answer.