Devon Hartford - Painless

“You awake?” he asked softly.

Tears dribbled down my cheeks. “Yeah,” I said softly.

He rolled over onto his stomach and his face was inches from mine. He kissed my cheek gently.

I smeared tears from my cheeks and held back the hitching sobs that tried to force their way out. I wanted to be strong for my man.

“Let it out, agápi mou ,” he said softly. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled my naked body into his.

“Oh, Christos,” I sobbed, finally letting go. My body shook with pain and fear. I shut out all the terrible future scenarios dancing through my head and did my best to concentrate on Christos’ loving embrace.

I cried for a long time as he kissed me softly, showering love all around me, my lips, my eyes, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, my ears, my hair. I sank into his comforting love.

“I love you Christos. I can’t let you go,” I said desperately. “I need you. Right here. I don’t want you going to court tomorrow.” I knew it was ridiculous, but I said it anyway.

“I need you too, agápi mou , forever and always. I need you in my life to guide my heart, to keep it open, to keep me grounded, to remind me why life is worth living, why I have to keep fighting, why I will never give up on you or us. You are my life, agápi mou . I have nothing without you.”

My heart opened to his in that moment wider than it ever had before. Christos was my one true love. I knew it as certainly as I felt his heart opening wide to mine in that moment. I literally felt energy flowing between us, the ruby jewel of my own heart absorbing and projecting back his love in a completed circle.

Together at last.

I treasured this man like no other thing in my short life. He was my gift.

I would do anything to keep him safe.

Anything.

Without thinking, I reached between us and felt his hot heat in my hand. I slid him inside my waiting wetness and we made tender love.

It was slow, soft, connected, and precious. The wings of my heart fluttered in the bath of his love. Our bodies spiraled up and out of the room as one, the hot breath of our love lifting us effortlessly into the sky on billowing sheets of ecstasy.

Eventually, we reached orgasm together.

“I love you, agápi mou ,” we murmured simultaneously.

After, as we laid in bed, we returned to Earth and came to rest in our own bodies once again.

To my surprise, I was on top of him. I hadn’t even realized I had ended up here. It had happened unconsciously, without insecurity or anxiety.

I really had been out of my body, connected with Christos on some strange spiritual plane that existed outside of this bedroom.

But that moment had passed.

I was now intimately aware of my physical body once again. Christos’ manhood, the most sensitive part of him, was still deep inside of me, quivering within, pulsing faintly and intermittently. I savored knowing that his fluids were mingling with mine as he emptied the very last of himself into me. I wanted to keep his tender manhood inside of me like this forever so I could protect him from all the terrible things in the world. I wanted to sustain the open flow between our hearts in that moment, this connection that was proof his heart was bound to mine.

Forever.

At some point, stark reality prodded its way into my awareness. I could feel Christos’ semen puddled between us on his stomach. The gooeyness didn’t bother me. It just reminded me that I would need to clean up, need to separate from Christos, breaking our physical connection so we could go about our day.

Why was it that sex always led to an ending? I felt sadness stirring in my belly. I knew the French called orgasms ‘little deaths’. It had always seemed morbid to me, but in this moment, I realized they were right. I felt something dying. I hoped it wasn’t prophetic.

Groan! This was not how I wanted to start what might be my last day with Christos for a long time.

I hugged Christos as tightly as I could, my face burrowing into his muscled chest. I never wanted to let him go.

Never.

“We should get cleaned up,” Christos said.

“No,” I whispered.

He wrapped his arms around me and held onto me for a long time. I appreciated that. His manhood was still inside me and I still wasn’t ready to let him withdraw from the protection of my body.

Just a few more minutes.

For consolation, I reminded myself that after every ending comes a new beginning. It felt like false hope, but I did my best to rally. Life was filled with the rhythm of change. I’d seen it first hand.

Now I just had to walk into a new chapter.

Just get up off the bed and start.

Any time now.

I sighed.

Did I have to?

Finally, I sat up on top of Christos.

He smiled up at me, his jeweled blue eyes piercing my heart.

He gave me courage.

He gave me hope.

He gave me strength.

No matter what happened.

“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” I asked.

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Want me to lick you clean?”

I hung my head and lifted my hips off of his. There was a swimming pool down there. “I hope you’re thirsty,” I joked, totally unselfconscious. I felt like a new me. I don’t think I’d ever been this relaxed around Christos, or even when I was alone.

I climbed off of him, cupping my hand between my legs to catch any errant drips. Why was reality always full of annoying details like this? “I’ll be right back,” I said as I walked toward the bathroom, “Stay right where you are.”

Rose petals still covered the bathroom from top to bottom. All of the candles had gone out, save one.

One candle.

I looked around the room. Wasn’t there one other candle still burning? Two strong flames burning bright, side by side?

No. There was only the one.

The one.

I shuddered and blinked away fresh tears. I almost doubled over in agony.

Christos…

“You okay in there?” he called from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” I choked out hoarsely, “just a second.”

After I composed myself, I looked around and grabbed a hand towel off the rack and returned to the bedroom. I crawled onto the bed and kneeled next to Christos. I gently wiped him clean, swirling the towel around his stomach and his thighs.

“Ready to shower?” I asked.

“After you,” he said as he propped himself up on his muscled, tattooed arms.

I held out my hand to him and he took it. I led him off the bed and into the bathroom, where we showered together.

After we dressed, we went downstairs.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked.

“I’ll make it,” I said confidently. “Sit down and relax.”

“Giving orders now?”

“Yep,” I grinned.

“We have leftovers from last night,” he suggested, “tons of lamb. I always love protein for breakfast.”

“Zip it. I’ve got it.” I opened the fridge and scanned the contents. There sure were a lot of leftovers. I hated to let food go to waste and I wasn’t above taking suggestions. I grabbed some veggies, the lamb and onions from last night, and cooked omelets for both of us. I also made toast and poured some orange juice.

“What are you going to do today?” I asked.

Christos finished chewing on a slice of buttered toast and wiped his face with a napkin. “Move you in, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I need your key. Don’t forget to call your apartment manager.”

“I’ll do it right now. I don’t want you getting hassled.” I jogged upstairs and dug my phone out of my purse. I called my manager and explained everything before going back downstairs. “Christos, are you sure you don’t want me to help move stuff?”