That night, we didn’t have sex. What we did transcended lust or release. That night, for the first time in my life, I allowed someone inside every dark and cold part of me, and in turn, he filled all those barren cracks, and sharp, hidden corners with his endless and infinite love.
That night I remembered everything that we are, and everything that we have been, and hope bloomed in my chest for everything that we will be, no matter the pain and grief to come.
That night I didn’t merely love Macsen Evans.
I breathed him.
He was the nourishment that filled my starved soul.
And I would love him every day, night, and minute that followed in the same way.
Just as I will tonight.
Macsen takes my hand, and with a devilish smile, tugs me to follow him. On the way past the hob, he checks that it’s off, and once satisfied, leads me to our bedroom, shutting the door behind us, and bringing me to the bed.
“Tell me what you’re hungry for, Macs, and I’ll give it to you.”
“You,” he says simply.
“Then I’m yours.”
With devout hands, and seeking lips, Macsen worships every inch of skin on my body until I’m a panting, needy mess.
He arranges me as he sees fit. His strong, searching fingers, and firm, masterful touches, makes my body bow and bend to his will.
When his tongue finally reaches between my spread cheeks and rasps over my rim, I almost shoot my load, and he hasn’t even touched my cock yet.
“Fuck, Macs. I need you.” My hands fist the sheets at my sides, and Macsen doesn’t let up. His tongue licks and thrusts, flicks and teases, while his wicked lips suck and nibble and send me out of my mind.
He brings his fingers into play, stretching and scissoring, pumping and searching, going deeper and deeper on each pass until he—"Ahhh. There, right there.”—finds that spongey bundle of nerves, zapping the last of my senses until I’m crying out in frustrated need.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he soothes, his fingers pumping, his wrist turning until he hits my prostate once more, tapping the pad of his finger on that magical spot in quick succession, and a long moan of desperation spills from my lips.
My legs are lifted and spread, and a second later he’s between them, his naked body sliding against mine until the head of his lubed dick nudges my hole.
“Yesss,” I hiss, opening my legs wider, inviting him to take and fill and fuck, needing him to make me come.
The wide head of his cock breaches that tight circle of muscle and slowly he pushes inside. No condoms separate us now. We both decided there was no need. We’re both clean, both committed, and it was time for it to be just us in our bed, no barriers.
With short, shallow strokes that open and fill me inch by inch, it feels like I can finally breathe again when Macsen bottoms out and his balls rest against mine.
I am completely filled with him.
His thick cock deliciously stretches me, his body envelops mine, and his mouth steals the taste of my love from my tongue, and the air from my lungs.
We are one in every way two people can be, and through the thick fog of need, I try to capture this feeling, needing to keep it inside me. I know a time will come when I will need to swaddle myself with all these memories and moments and feelings.
“I love you, Ellis Probert,” he whispers into my mouth, his cock slowly sliding out, only to thrust back in and claim me once more. “For infinite lifetimes, and all of eternity to come.” Another slow, delicious slide. “I will always find you.” The roll of his hips. “Call me, and I will always answer.”
He doesn’t let me reply, sealing his mouth over mine, swallowing my gasps and moans until I come apart to his vowed words across my lips and his seed filling me up.
I take him into my body, and I come apart, knowing that he will always reside there, within me. No distance or years, or lifetimes can ever take that away from me.
Chapter 25
Macsen
“Will you hold me?”
“Forever.”
I died two days later with Ellis by my side, his arms holding me against his chest, his strong and vital heartbeat in my ear calling me back. Calling me to the other side.
You see, I did keep something from Ellis in those last few precious weeks. I’d told him I didn’t know when it would be my time to go.
But I did.
I’d known since the very beginning. I’d known exactly how my story would end. And Ellis did, too, he merely got to forget what I never could.
It was why I’d pushed myself so hard. Why I’d been desperate to get him involved in the manor. Why I wanted it finished so I could see his face when I handed over the keys.
Oh, I knew he’d argue and refuse, but it made no difference. The old girl was always meant to be his. I knew that when I bought her.
I wish I could watch him from this side. Wish I could see he’s doing okay, that he got through my death like I know he will, with limitless strength and special memories of the time we shared.
You see, that’s one thing we all have in common; we all become memories in the end. We should all live our lives with this at the forefront of our minds, so we never forget not to waste a single moment.
My final memory of this lifetime with Ellis was his unconditional words of love as I closed my eyes for the last time.
How many people are blessed enough to have that? To have their soulmate next to them, holding them, telling them they will never forget, they will always remember. Promising me he would live his life and make more memories, ones he would tell me about the next time we met.
As I took my last breath of this life, I knew all of Ellis’s words to be true because one day, we would be together again as characters in a different story. Maybe next time, we’d share an entire lifetime.
Even if we didn’t, the love we shared would never lessen because those who love like we do will always live eternally.
Epilogue
Ellis
The thick brown paper is bound with string.
Sharp scissors snip at the woven thread, long loops of straw-coloured cord falling to the floor at my feet.
With careful hands, I tear away the covering, relishing in the sound of every rip, knowing what I will find beneath.
With packing strewn across the floor all around me, I stand back and stare. Tears threaten to spill while a smile lifts at the corner of my lips.
“It’s us, Macs. What I saw that day, it’s still there. It’s still us.”
With care, I place the canvas against the wall of my bedroom. Bright sunlight pours through the blinds, painting the star-crossed lovers in arcs of pure, unfiltered life.
For long moments I can do nothing but remember, the story of our love set to the soundtrack of the ocean below.
Lily Bay manor sighs around me, and as I finally tear my gaze away from the painting and turn my head to look out across the sea, I swear I can see his smile on the waves.
It tells me I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
I fell in love with a man when love seemed impossible.
But if loving Macsen has taught me anything, it’s that impossible is merely a word.