Content warning: sexual imagery (not graphic)
October 2018
Bochum, Germany
What the hell is wrong with me?
Ever since I got that invitation from Ian and combed through his social media, I haven't stopped thinking about him. The past has come rushing back in a flipping torrent. All my repressed feelings. My longing. It's like Ian has cast a spell on me from afar.
For some reason, it's triggered my latent desire.
Ugh! I keep reading the same sentence in this lousy master's thesis, but I don't absorb it. Much less correct the linguistic errors. This is nuts! My mind keeps drifting toward memories of Ian. His brilliant mind--equal parts of fire and ice. Two separate compartments in his psyche, both equally captivating for different reasons.
Beneath Ian's cold exterior, you'd never dream a fiery dragon slumbers underneath. But it's there. Waiting to be set free.
His touch, firm yet tender.
His mind, decisive yet flexible.
His soul, passionate yet kind.
Tell me what you need, little raven.
Stop it! Focus!
Cradling my forehead in my palm, I can't think. I push myself away from my desk with an incredulous scoff.
Un-freaking-real. All it took was one invite and you lose it?
No! Get it together.
From the depths of my mind comes Ian's voice, Show me how it feels.
Now my own imagination has decided to conspire against me. Great! Guess it's time to scratch this itch so that I can focus on my work again like a normal person.
Thank God I'm working from home.
With an impatient huff, I flop on the bed and yank down my tights and my underwear with one swift motion and toss them aside.
Slipping into the deepest recesses of my mind, I reawaken a part of me that has slumbered for so long. Though I try to focus on the raw sensation, my body can't relax.
Because Ian haunts me still.
He's the last person in the world I should imagine holding me, but I can't stop the kaleidoscope of memories all blending into one senseless dream. Burning gazes. Electrified touches. Tender kisses. That fiery passion he used to share only with me.
"My muse, are you absolutely certain?" Ian asks, tucking a stray lock behind my ear. "I love you just as you are. Nothing has to change."
"I want you, Ian." Running my hands over his chest, I feel his wiry muscles tensing underneath his white Oxford shirt. "Body, mind, heart, and soul."
As soon as I say those words, his eyes darken. But Ian doesn't touch me. He simply holds my gaze as tingles race across my skin and down my spine.
"You know I respect your faith, right? Don't do anything you'll regret."
"I won't."
"Lie down on the bed," he demands in a gravelly voice. "Since we can't touch, show me the depth of your passion."
Sprawled perpendicular on the bed by my feet, Ian observes me. Nearly naked. Mesmerized. His focus, intense. As if he's committing every last detail to memory. His hands run up my limbs, rough with want until he cradles my hips and plants a gentle kiss on my stomach. With soft, tender touches, he traces my sides, light as a feather's kiss.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Look Back
RomanceONC 2024: In college, it was a case of wrong place/wrong time. Eight years later, they have a second chance. But will they take the leap? ___ Prompt 14: "My muse, believe me, waiting for you has been a form of freedom." ___ Excerpt: "Don't look bac...
