| |
ELIZABETH
––––––––
“YOU’RE OKAY?”
Khalid’s voice penetrated through my mind, coming from a great distance and from very close at the same time. He was still locked inside me, the length of his strong, hard body pressing against my back.
“Better than ever,” I murmured. “What time is it?”
“’Bout ten,” he said, nuzzling my neck.
“Time to get up. I have a job to do.”
Khalid’s fingers traced the length of my arm. “No, you don’t. You’re taking a day off.”
I tried to flip to face him, but I couldn’t manage to get our middle parts to detach. Khalid was vacuum-sealed in my womb. His post-coital hardness was delightful, even though I didn’t know how to explain it from a physiological aspect.
I tightened my inner muscles around his cock. “Your penis is not returning to its flaccid state,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Because you continue stimulating it.”
“You’re not on Viagra, are you?” I said.
“What’s Viagra?”
I turned my head and looked at him. “You don’t know what Viagra is? Where did you live before you came here? In some consumer-free paradise?”
“Not sure about the paradise part,” Khalid murmured and then added, “So what is Viagra? Some sort of aphrodisiac?”
“A pill for men. To treat erectile dysfunction. One of the side effects is a prolonged erection.”
He shook with deep, rumbling laughter. “Dear god, Elizabeth! Where do you get these ideas from? Venereal disease, erectile dysfunction, that Viagra? No, I’m not on Viagra or anything else.”
“A long-lasting erection is painful, potentially dangerous and—”
“Do I look in pain?”
“No, but it could be a side effect of—”
“Oh, shut your sweet little mouth up,” he said, still laughing and closed his lips over mine. “My sexual health is perfect. It’s just that it’s so tight and warm in there, I wish I could stay forever.” He moved his lips to my ears and whispered, “You’re so sexy and I want you so much. That’s why my dick’s still hard.”
Oh well. Who was I to disagree?
I moved my hips in invitation.
––––––––
THIS TIME I LET HIM climax first, my own release coming seconds after his.
When, some fifteen minutes later, he finally slipped out of me, I rolled on my stomach and I glanced at Khalid’s cock. It was soft, yet still imposing.
He, of course, had caught it.
“Flaccid enough to your liking?”
“Yes,” I said, laughing.
I lay my head on his broad chest and ran my fingers over it, savoring the feeling of his skin and the muscles beneath it. His chest was almost hairless, save for the thin dark line that ran from his belly button down and widened toward his groin. Just how I liked it. His pubic hair was also dark, with a reddish undertone his hair didn’t have, but I’d noticed it on his lashes: their tips were slightly lighter and copperish.
An image of a Greek bronze statue, only warm and very much alive, came to my mind. Okay, plus some body hair and a beautiful, big sexual organ, a feature not quite Classical Greek.
I smiled at an old memory. I was twelve and had just started showing intense curiosity about human sexuality. After a holiday in Rome, I’d asked my mother why Classical Greek and Roman male sculptures had small genitalia, compared to the pictures in my biology book. If she’d been taken aback with my question, my mother hadn’t shown it. “Great observation, honey,” she’d said in her best academic voice. “It’s because it was a beauty standard then. Large penises were considered barbarous ...”
“You’re smiling,” Khalid said. “Mind sharing?”
I didn’t. Bracing myself on my elbow and suppressing laughter, I told him about my mother’s lesson in Classical period sculpture.
He laughed. “Beauty standards change,” he said, kissing my shoulder.
“Works for me,” I said, tracing my fingers along an absolutely perfect representation of a male reproductive organ by current standards. “I can’t believe it,” I added, feeling a familiar tickling between my legs. “I’m still in post-coital bliss and I already want more. Is that normal?”
Another burst of deep, hearty laughter came out from his chest. “Now perhaps I should be worried about your persistent arousal. Instead, I feel like the king of the world. I think we’re both sexually starved. It will take a while to lose the edge.”
“It looks to me like you can control it already. I’m still like a firecracker. I thought I knew my body.”
“There is always something new to discover. So, you knew your body, huh?” His hand moved down and brushed over my mound, lightly touched the soft skin inside my thighs then retreated. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and looked at my hand, smiling happily through half-closed eyes. I moved it gently up and down, and he swelled.
“I should know my body. I’ve had tons of lovers,” I said nonchalantly.
“Tons of lovers? I don’t need to know the exact number, just humor me with an approximation.”
“More than three and less than thirty-three, so pick a number.”
“Four.”
He was right. “How did you know?”
His hand caressed my stomach and moved south. It lingered for a while on the mound between my legs, before his finger parted my inner lips and pushed in and out, several times, in slow and tender movements.
“I didn’t, Miss Chatwin,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Between three and thirty-three, four seems as good as any other number. I don’t care if you had one or fifty-one. You enjoy sex, and you know your body indeed, which tells me you’ve chosen your lovers wisely.”
I continued with my lazy caresses. “I did, but I can’t give them all the credit. There are other ways to learn about your body.”
My little sexual bravado had left my cheeks burning and Khalid’s heart, which I could clearly hear since my head was still resting on his chest, was tripling its speed.
In a single swift motion, he was on top of me. “God, woman, aren’t you hot.” His eyes darkened to deep green, with just a hint of blue in their depths. “Other ways, you say? You’ll show them to me?”
I panicked. “Now?”
“Not now, unfortunately. As much as I want to see it, we have to get out of this room before Harriet sends a search party.” He rolled us once more until I was sitting on top of him, his once more erected penis pressing between my legs. “Or you collapse because of low blood sugar. You have to eat something, Elizabeth.”
I rocked against him. “Once in my dream, you asked me the same question.”
“About your lovers? What did you say, do you remember?”
“It didn’t make any sense. I said I had had many, not that you believed me, by the way, but that I was still a virgin.”
“Interesting,” he said and placed his hands on my hips.
I took a deep breath and moved my hands to his torso, my eyes focusing on several long, thin and faded scars, which I had also noticed on his back, crisscrossing his otherwise smooth skin.
“The accident?” I said, following one that ran across his ribs and down his hip to his thigh.
“Uh-ha. But I won’t have them much longer.”
“They don’t look that bad, Khalid. The one on your face is hardly visible anymore.”
“Oh, not that I’m going to have them removed surgically. They’re fading away by themselves.” He braced himself on his elbow. “Hey, speaking about dreams, I’ve got the answer to my question about tattoos.”
“I like my skin the way it is. I don’t feel like I need to improve its appearance with ink.”
“It’s impossible to improve perfection.”
“Well, thank you. Khalid, isn’t it fascinating that we somehow share dreams? I didn’t know it was possible.”
“If we don’t have the knowledge to explain something, it doesn’t mean there is no explanation. Open your mind and you’ll see quite a few possible explanations.”
“Can’t you tell me?”
He lifted his head and found my eyes. “I was about to last night, but you didn’t want to hear it. I think I know your reasons: once you gave yourself to me, there was no way back. I took advantage of your decision, I admit, hoping that when you figured everything out, it wouldn’t be relevant anymore.”
“You’re right,” I said quietly.
“Elizabeth, I’m a decent person, if different in some ways. But the differences are superficial. Under the surface is a man whom you already know. Trust your feelings, okay?”
Appearances. My dreams.
But no, it was impossible. Even if he was it, in my dreams I was it too. I might not know who or what he was, but I was pretty sure of who or what I was not. My fingers brushed against his chest and thighs, searching for quick reassurance. His skin was warm, firm and radiant; the muscles underneath it well defined and strong. And very, very human, from all I knew about anatomy. In my dreams, they were reshaped into a different form and his smooth skin was more than just dusted with hair. Yet still his muscles were strong and beautiful, and he felt warm and vibrant when I touched him. Just far hairier. And very, very non-human.
Insane, wasn’t it?
I took a deep breath, held it for a moment and then slowly exhaled. “I don’t think anything can change how I feel about you,” I said. “And I really can’t talk about my feelings after our first night together, so I won’t say more. It’s too early. It would only turn you off.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “You tell me you’re crazy about me and that is supposed to turn me off? You’re not serious, are you?”
“Of course I’m serious.” I smirked. “Relationships have their developmental phases. Crucial ones, like talking about feelings, must not be rushed.”
“Because?”
“Because you might not be ready to hear it.” My words came out more serious than I intended, so I added in a lighter tone, “Anyway, back to what or who I think you are. I figured out last night you’re either from a different space, a different reality or a different time. Your little stories, for example, sound too authentic to come from some dusty documents you found in some old archives. This has to be a sort of Multiverse Theory in practice.”
He laughed hard. “The Theory of Multiverse, Miss Chatwin, covers pretty much every possibility one can imagine. But I can tell you right away I’m not an ET, nor can I jump through time. You accepted the fact that I am different, and you made love to me, nonetheless. I think this is an excellent foundation for further development of our relationship.”
I sighed. “One step at a time, then.”
He gave me a light smack on my bum. “Lift your little arse from my dick and get dressed.”
I frowned. “I guess we can’t say that I have the flu or something and that I can’t leave my room, can we?”
“We can, and I can tend to you, but still I need condoms for that. And you must be hungry. I know I am.”
“I’m starving,” I admitted. To support my statement, my stomach growled. “Give me twenty minutes.”
I rushed to my room, took another shower and did my hair. I put on my jeans and dusty rose sweater and pulled on my knee-high leather boots.
Khalid knocked on the frame of the upholstered private door between our rooms, still open.
“May I come in?”
“Sure,” I said and smiled at the sight of him in a turquoise sweater and light blue, well-worn jeans. God, I’d just had the hottest sex with this handsome man, I thought happily, unable to take my eyes off of him. His dark hair was tousled, and he had shaved. He smelled fresh and masculine, of soap and toothpaste, of hormones and arousal.
“You look beautiful,” Khalid said, pulling me into his arms.
I pressed my head onto his chest and closed my eyes for a moment, breathing him in. “You don’t look bad yourself,” I said.
He took my hand. “Let’s go now. And remember, you don’t need to answer the intimate questions no matter how hard Harriet or Lily press you.”
I gasped in sheer panic before I heard him laughing.
––––––––
WE FOUND JASON, HARRIET AND Luna in the kitchen. I tried to pull my hand from Khalid’s, but he didn’t let me.
Luna gave a happy bark and rushed toward us.
“Oh, there you are,” Harriet said cheerfully when she saw us. “We all slept a little bit later today, so nobody’s eaten yet. How about scrambled eggs? Elizabeth, check the oven. I think the buns are done. Khalid, would you take the butter and yogurt out of the fridge? And honey is in the pantry. Elizabeth, do you like honey?”
“I do.” I removed the buns from the oven, transferred them onto a serving plate and set them on the table.
“Where is everybody else?” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral as if walking into the kitchen with a flushed face and holding Khalid’s hand was the most natural thing in the world.
“Azem left for Red Cliffs earlier this morning to meet with Mr. Vandermeer. Zana stayed at Astrid and Jack’s for a sleepover; she won’t be back before tomorrow. Lily’s outside, covering the roses because it’s going to snow later this afternoon.”
“More snow? It was so nice and warm in the last few days as if spring was around the corner.”
“Our spring does start early, but there are occasional snow dumps till May,” Jason said pouring us coffee. “And it seems the temperature is going to drop below freezing.”
I heard the outside door open and close, and a moment later Lily came in.
“Good morning everyone,” she said with a wide smile. Then to me, “Elizabeth, I put a plastic cover over each rose bush, just in case.” I wasn’t sure how long you were going to sleep. It’s going to snow, otherwise, I would’ve waited for you.”
It was an innocent conversation, yet I felt blood rush to my cheeks. “I, er, overslept. Thank you.”
“Open your mouth,” Khalid said, holding a small morsel of bun topped with butter and honey. I did as I was told, too smitten to enjoy in full the wonderful taste of the hot bun, melting butter and honey.
And, as I swallowed, Khalid brushed his lips over mine. “Delicious,” he whispered and kissed me once more, licking the corner of my mouth. He took my hand and made me sit on the chair. A smart move because my legs felt boneless and I was lightheaded.
And then he startled me once more by leaning toward me and giving me a long, lingering kiss.
“Elizabeth and I are going to Copper Ridge after breakfast,” he said, his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t wait for us for lunch. We’ll grab a pizza or something.”
“Just be back before the storm,” Harriet said.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
As we ate, we talked about Rosie’s upcoming birthday. I tried to stay focused on my plate, but then Harriet asked me if I would like to help her and Lily with baking. “Astrid wants bite-size cakes and small pastries.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” I said, touched with her offer.
Jason cleared his throat. “Khalid, I heard your cousins from Wales are coming to the party.”
“Actually,” Khalid said with a smile, “my cousins have some urgent business to attend to. Mom and Dad are coming, I’m afraid.”
Three heads swiftly turned to Khalid. They all looked stunned. What was going on, I wondered. And then, after a slight delay, the meaning of Khalid’s statement reached my mind.
Oh. My. God. Khalid’s parents are coming! I am not ready to meet his parents!
“Your parents? Well, that’s great. I suppose,” Harriet said looking at Khalid from under her lashes.
They would likely stay here, at Khalid’s house, wouldn’t they? Where else would they stay but with their son?
Khalid stood and reached out for my hand. “Shall we, Elizabeth?”
In the hallway, he helped me put on my jacket, grabbed a woolen scarf from the shelf and wrapped it around my neck. From the chest of drawers, he pulled out a pair of thick mittens.
“I can’t drive with them on my hands,” I said.
“Put them in your pocket then.” He opened the next drawer. “Now, where is your cap? Ah, here.”
I rolled my eyes. “No cap. It’ll ruin my hair.”
He put the cap in a pocket of his jacket and opened the door. “You once almost ended up with lung fever because of me. I mean pneumonia. I’m not taking any chances.”
Lung fever? “I had a cold, not pneumonia,” I said, as we stepped out, heading to the garage. “On the bright side, if I hadn’t been sick, who knows if you would have ever phoned me again.”
He stopped and turned me to face him. He lifted my chin. “I would have, Elizabeth,” he said and lowered his head to mine.
My lips met his, my arms closed around his neck. And there we were, standing halfway to the garage, kissing, and I didn’t give a damn that Harriet and Lily were watching us from the tall parlor windows.