War(33)

After a moment, I wrapped my fist around hers, squeezed tighter and moved her hand up and down me faster, the desperation to climax with her, even if it was only in this way, driving me.

When the first splash of cum spurted from my cock, I watched it rain down and land on her wrist. The sight of my seed on her skin was pure bliss, and once I saw it, I closed my eyes and let the climax take me.









Milan



I had no clue what had come over me, what had allowed me to touch him like that, and I didn’t really care to figure it out. It usually took me a while to warm up, be that open with a lover, but after today, I had been reminded that there was no time to waste, no room for shyness or reticence.

Because life could end in a moment, and I knew that if I didn’t acknowledge and pursue my desire for him, I would regret it.

In fact, I got even closer to him, snuggled against his chest, playing with the small buttons on his shirt.

It had been a very long time since I had been with someone like this. And never with anyone like him.

“Is Priest your real name?” I asked, strangely wired up but tired at the same time, so my defenses were far too low to keep the thoughts that popped into my head from leaving my mouth.

He said nothing, but looked at me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry,” I said.

He shook his head, and then kissed me.

“It’s not that. You’re not prying. It’s just—I’m not entirely sure how to answer that question,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“What is my real name? What does that even mean?”

I frowned and rolled onto my side, locking eyes with him. “I think you’re misunderstanding me. I didn’t mean to get philosophical. I just wanted to know if Priest is what your mother calls you,” I said.

“Don’t know,” he replied.

My heart squeezed as I realized what he meant. I reached grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be. I didn’t know her and probably wouldn’t have cared to. But to answer your question as best I can, no, I was not always Priest. I was born Nikolai.”

“Nikolai,” I repeated, testing the sound on my tongue. “I like it.”

And I did. It fit him, was both serious and sensual, like the man himself. Priest fit, too, in a lot of ways. There was a rigidity, an almost monastic focus about him, but it didn’t feel like all of him.

“Nikolai,” I said again. “It fits you. That seems more like who you are.”

“You’re wrong, Milan. Whoever Nikolai was or whoever he might have been, he doesn’t exist now. There is only Priest. So, yes. Priest is my real name,” he said, his voice shifting, some of the steel returning.

“I disagree,” I said, not at all deterred by the change in his voice. “I think he’s still there.”

He looked at me, indulgent but unconvinced. Like he wanted to argue but didn’t quite have the heart to.

“So, Milan, is Milan your real name?” he asked.

He was trying to change the subject, and I decided to let him.

“Yes. My sister’s Venice. Was Venice,” I said.

Making that correction was one that always proved difficult for me. Still did, even after all these years.

“Was?” he said.

“Yeah. She was three years younger than me. She and my parents were in a car accident,” I said.

My chest squeezed again as I remembered those dark days, but I had made peace with the past and with their loss. I had loved them, and they me. I had also known they would want me to continue, to live the life that they would no longer have the chance to.

“So it’s just you, then?”

I nodded. “Well, there was Tiffany, but yeah, it’s just me,” I said.

That was a terrible thing to say, to know that I was completely alone in the world. It chilled me to my core. Without stopping to think, I moved closer to him, held him.

I was completely alone in the world now, but at least for a little while I had him.





Eighteen





Priest



“No,” I said flatly.

As I spoke I continued to button my shirt, not pausing to even glance in her direction. She was looking at me, though. I felt her eyes on me and didn’t have to see them to know they were brimming with discontent, so different than they had been less than an hour ago.

Then, her eyes had been soft, drowsy, still cloudy with the climax I had coaxed from her with my tongue. Even now, I could taste her on my lips, feel the way her body had moved as I’d licked at her skin.

I’d wanted her to stay that way, wanted to stay with her that way, but that wasn’t an option. There was work to attend to, questions I needed to have answered, and they wouldn’t be answered here in bed with her, no matter how desirable staying was.