Interlude - 5. Chapter 5

I felt cold as he removed his hand from mine. I didn’t like the sudden feeling of separation from him. It felt wrong. I could feel myself frown. He smiled and raised his hand and ran a finger along the line of my cheek. The fingers of his other hand still lingered on my temple, gently massaging my skin, as if trying to erase any last traces of pain from my head. He brushed his thumb lightly over my lips. My eyes had still not left his. I could feel my heart beating, could feel the blood rushing through my veins, as my pulse pounded in my ears. I felt light-headed, almost dizzy, but I did not look away from his eyes. They held me steady, anchored me, kept me from falling. I didn’t look away, not even as he leaned closer, not even as his lips touched mine.

It was a long, slow kiss. It felt tentative, his lips barely touching mine, brushing softly over my lips like the gentle caress of a butterfly’s wings. His fingers slipped into my hair, and I could feel him playing with the damp strands, sliding them slowly through his fingers. I felt a ripple of heat pass through my entire body. It was an unexpected response, yet it felt oddly familiar.

My lips parted slightly, instinctively. He slipped his tongue in between my lips and into my mouth, sliding his tongue sensually along mine. I returned his kiss, my lips brushing his, my tongue rubbing against his. I pulled him closer to me, my fingers tangling in his hair. I heard a soft moan of pleasure and I realized with surprise that it had come from my lips! As he felt my response to him, his kiss deepened. His lips pressed harder against mine, tenderness turning to passion as he thrust his tongue hard against my tongue. It was as if he had been moving tentatively, unsure of what my response would be. Now he knew.

He pulled back suddenly and looked down into my eyes. He searched my eyes as if he were searching my soul, reaching inside me, looking for something. I could only stare back at him, my lips parted, my breath quick and hot. He ran his hands slowly down over my shoulders, down my arms, down my sides. My skin tingled where he touched, and my body shivered. I felt his fingers slip inside the towel that was still around my waist, felt them warm against my skin as the towel fell to the floor.

His hands were on my hips, so light was his touch that I could barely feel it—yet the heat from his hands burned my skin—and sent another unexpected response through my body. I felt myself harden. He smiled, that wonderfully boyish grin of a smile that went right through me. He must have seen the surprise in my eyes, must have seen that I had not expected myself to respond to him like that. He raised one dark brow and the smile went slightly crooked. “I’m sorry… looks like that towel fell off. Such a shame.”

He pulled me gently against him, his hands slipping around to the cheeks of my ass. He held me firmly as he slowly moved his hips, rubbing himself against me. I could feel the hard outline of his own erection against mine. I drew a sharp breath, once more surprised at the wave of heat that shot through me. My hands acted on their own, their movements driven by instinct, abandoned by thought. They slipped down his shoulders over his chest. I could feel his nipples hardening as my hands rubbed them through the fabric of his shirt. A soft sound of pleasure passed through his lips, which had found their way to my ear. His warm breath against my ear made my knees feel weak. I watched my fingers as they undid the buttons of his shirt, watched them tremble as each button came undone. It was as if they were someone else’s fingers. Yet as they moved slowly over his bare skin I could feel every detail of that smooth skin, every pore. I watched them trace small circles around his nipples, and realized that they must truly be my fingers since I could feel them tingle with every brush of those hard pink buds.

I pushed the shirt from his shoulders and he released his hold on me long enough to allow it to slip down over his arms and to the floor. He smiled at me, and I could see desire in that smile, could see it in his eyes—which had darkened almost to blue, could see it in the faint flush of his cheeks. He put his arms around me again, his hands back on the cheeks of my ass, rubbing them now, his fingers gentle but his touch tinged with hunger.

He leaned down and kissed my neck, right where it met my shoulders. I moaned slightly as his tongue found a sensitive spot, and I wondered fleetingly—with as much thought as I could scrape together—how he had found that spot so quickly, so unerringly. I felt the back of my legs against the bed and I realized I hadn’t even felt my feet move. He pushed me gently onto the bed and for a moment I just lay there, looking up at him.

It was as if I were seeing him for the first time—yet it was as if I were seeing him again, after a long time. My eyes absorbed every detail of him from the soft, almost golden hair that fell just past his ears, to his incredibly expressive, oddly dark eyebrows, to his lean, softly muscled, still slightly boyish body. All these things were new to me. But his eyes… They were not new. I knew those eyes well, had a strong sense of this, was certain of this. And they never left my face, those green eyes… Not the green of an emerald. Not a cliched green. They were a dark green, almost going to blue, but not quite. They never left my face as I watched him remove the rest of his clothes, as I watched him climb into bed with me, as I opened my arms to welcome him into my bed and into my heart—as I had done so many times before.

His lips touched mine gently and I could feel passion in them. I parted my lips slightly, and he slipped his tongue between them. Our tongues touched and I as I tasted the sweetness of him I was amazed at how such a small thing as a kiss could be so overwhelming. It had never been so with anyone else, not even with Joanne, though she could set every never ending in my body on fire. Yet when his lips touched mine, as soon as the taste of him was on my tongue, I could no longer see anything, hear anything, smell anything, taste anything, feel anything, sense anything but him. He absorbed me completely with just a kiss.

I ran my hands over his shoulders, my fingers kneading into the soft skin, feeling the hard, yet immature muscles beneath. I made a little moue of disappointment as he pulled his lips from mine. He looked into my eyes again. Again, I felt as if he were searching my soul.

“What is your name?” He whispered the words, never taking his eyes off mine. He brushed back a strand of hair from my brow, his fingers lingering there, tracing my hairline, tracing each eyebrow, as if seeing them with his fingers, as if memorizing them by his touch.

“David.” I whispered my response, my breath barely forming sound.

He smiled, this time it was a slow smile, filled with wonder. “David.” He repeated the name. My stomach fluttered at the sound of my name on his lips. And I was struck by a strong sense of déjà vu once more.

“David, you and I have met before.” He pressed a finger to my lips as I opened them to speak and shook his head slightly, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

“No, not in this life. But our souls have known each other before.”

He ran his finger over my lips, his touch was so light I could barely feel it. "Many times I have kissed these lips.”

He ran his finger over the curve of my cheek. “Many times I have traced this soft line with my finger.”

He brushed his hand over my hair. “And many times I have run my fingers through your hair, have felt it slipping through my fingers like strands of silk.”

He ran a hand over my chest, his fingers brushing lightly over my nipples, sending a ripple of response through me. “And many times—more times than I can remember, I have made love to your body.” He shook his head slightly. “No, not THIS body… but YOUR body, whatever body your soul has owned.”

“Last night, when I saw you, I could have sworn I knew you. And I thought I saw that same sense of recognition in your eyes.” He frowned slightly, his brows knitting. And I noticed again how out of place they were, so dark when his hair was so golden. “But it was vague, more of a tease than anything else. But when I fell asleep… when I dreamed… I dreamed of you. Not of David, but of the one whose soul is yours. And in that dream, we were making love—as we had made love many times before. And in that dream, I knew we had known each other even before then.”

I looked in his eyes and I could see the truth in them. And I could see something else. I could see my reflection in his eyes. And in that reflection, I could see his reflection. Like the endless reflections of two mirrors face to face, stretching into infinity, into eternity.

He smiled once more, and it was almost a sad smile. Then he leaned down and kissed my neck, just where it met my shoulder, once again finding that sensitive spot. He lingered there, sucking softly, his teeth brushing gently against my skin. I closed my eyes, a moan of pleasure rising from my lips. He rubbed his body against mine, just slightly. It was more of a pressing against, than a rubbing against, really. But I could feel his arousal, hard and hot against my hip. I heard a groan of pleasure from his lips as he pressed against me and it sent an answering groan to my lips.

His lips moved down from my neck to my chest, his hand moved from my chest to my stomach and down to my swollen cock. I gasped as his hand stroked me lightly. I was already hard—had been from the moment his lips had touched mine—but I felt myself swell even more at his touch. “Mmmm” the sound was almost a sigh as it left his lips. The sound from my own was definitely a sigh as I lay back, my eyes closing. His touch was amazing. I could feel the strength in his fingers, but at the same time, they were so very gentle—and so very familiar.

I felt his lips once more on my chest, felt his tongue running along my skin. I shivered from the sensation, yet I was anything but cold. “Ohhhh…” I breathed, as I arched my back slightly, pushing into his hand. His response was to bite me lightly, nipping the skin right below my belly button. Not so that it hurt, but just hard enough to make me jump a little. I could feel him smiling against my skin. I felt myself smile in response.

That smile was completely wiped from my face in the next second as I gasped and exclaimed “God Almighty!” I felt as though my entire body had just been plunged into fire. His tongue licked around the base of my swollen cock, and continued licking upwards, in a spiral motion all around me. His tongue felt warm, electric. Everywhere he licked burned and throbbed. He stopped just short of the top, pausing to let his hot breath caress me. I could feel his lips almost touching me, teasing me with their closeness. I tried to push my hips upward, push my throbbing erection toward his mouth. I wanted what he was teasing me with—wanted it so bad my whole body pulsed, vibrated with the desire for it, the need for it.

“Does that feel good, David?” His words were soft, whispered so close to my skin that every syllable made me twitch with desire. My response was little more than a groan as I reached for his head, my fingers tangling convulsively in the soft tendrils of his hair. His response was to run his tongue slowly over the tip of my cock. Then he slipped me into his mouth, his lips pressing firmly against my skin, so that I would feel every millimeter of their progress from the tip on down. And as he took me further into his mouth, his tongue licked around me, in that same spiral pattern that had driven me so crazy before—only this time it was reversed, spiraling downward as he drew me deeper and deeper into the liquid heat of his mouth.

Then he pulled his mouth from me. “Not this time, David, not this time. This time I want…”

I opened my eyes and looked at him. Even though I still wore my glasses, my eyes were blurry as I looked at him. My breath was ragged, panting. He leaned over me, looking into my eyes again with those incredibly beautiful, achingly familiar eyes. They were green. Not the green of an emerald. Not a cliched green. They were a dark green, almost going to blue, but not quite. And I nearly cried from the beauty of them—and from the love that looked out from them, love that could not possibly be from this life only, love that HAD to reach back through time.

“Do you know what I want, David?” His voice was soft, seductive. He moved beside me and lay on his stomach. He raised himself up on one elbow and reached over and stroked my cock, his fingers gentle and teasing at first, then firmer as he wrapped his hand completely around me. “David…” he said in a coaxing tone. He slid a little closer to me, pressing his thigh against mine.

I turned a little, my pulse racing. I reached out and ran my hand down his back, over that incredibly soft skin. I noticed my fingers were shaking. As my hand slipped down over his ass he pushed himself against my hand. At the same time, his hand still wrapped around my cock, he pulled me gently, urging me to him.

I groaned and he parted his thighs, offering me a clear, unmistakable invitation. It was an invitation I had never had before. Not from Joanne, and certainly not from another man. But it felt… right. I groaned, all the resistance I should have felt leaving my body with that one groan. I moved between his legs, his hand still wrapped around me. I leaned forward and he pressed me against him. He released me and folded his arms under his head and sighed. As he sighed, he raised himself slightly and rubbed himself against me. “David…” the coaxing tone had turned to a soft plea.

My hands shook as I positioned myself to enter him. I had never done this. I wanted him so badly every muscle in my body ached for him. But I had never done this—at least not with THIS body. He must have read my mind, for he reached his hand back again, this time rubbing my ass firmly, pulling me closer against him. “Now, David…please…”

I groaned and closed my eyes. I pushed myself gently into him, slowly, only a very little. I felt his body tense and his hand left me, to grab at the bed sheets. Driven by an instinct I didn’t know I had, I pulled slightly from him, and teased him a bit, using just the tip of my swollen erection. He tensed around me at first—and I fought the urge to come right then. Then with a deep breath, he folded his arm back under his head and I felt his body relax. I moved slowly inside him, and I could feel his body fighting the urge to tense. But he was in control of himself—and to a great degree, in control of me. He moaned as I buried my full length in him, breathing my name softly against the pillow.

I paused, taking several deep breaths, trying very hard to control the shudder that threatened to ripple through my body too soon. But I wanted him so very much. I pulled back slowly, feeling the moist heat of him massaging me. I pushed back into him and he moaned deeply now, pushing himself back against me, urging me deeper inside him.

Any semblance of self-control, and feeling of uncertainty I possessed left me at that moment. My thrusts were hard and deep and my pace urgent, hungry as I abandoned myself to him. I moaned his name with every thrust. I wanted to make myself part of him. I felt overwhelmed by the feeling of being inside of him. I reached beneath him, taking his cock in my hand. I could feel it throbbing as I stroked it in time with my thrusts. I vaguely heard him moaning my name through the pounding of the blood in my head. I felt a sweet tightening of my muscles, felt that fleeting moment of pure tension—then felt an incredible sense of complete and utter release sweep over me as I came inside him. At the same time, I felt a heat on my hand, and I realized he had also come.

I collapsed on top of him, my body shaking, my breath coming in short gasps. I felt a burning at the back of my eyes and was surprised to feel tears slipping down my cheeks and on to his skin. I moved off him and turned away. I didn’t understand them, didn’t know why they were there. But I knew I didn’t want him to see them.

But he seemed to know… He put his arms around me and turned me back to him. Without saying a word, he wiped the tears from my cheeks with his fingers and kissed where they had been. He tightened his arms around me and held me, held me so close that it felt as though our bodies were one.

“How did you know my name?” He whispered the question against my forehead.

I looked up at him, my brows knit in question. I didn’t know his name.

He raised one brow slightly as he looked deeply into my eyes. And again I felt that sense of searching. “When you were making love to me…” I noticed he had not said fucking… and I felt the rightness of that. “…you said my name. Over and over you said my name.”

I looked into his eyes. They were green. Not the green of an emerald. Not a cliched green. They were a dark green, almost going to blue, but not quite. And the name came to my lips, slipping from them as easily as if it had passed through them countless times before. “Andrew…”