Little Love | Chapter VII (Patreon)

The aroma of meat cooking welcomed Tristan back to consciousness. He found himself on the large couch in the living room, tucked into a fluffy blanket with his head against a soft pillow. Lilith must have redressed him, because the boxers and T-shirt he’d worn earlier had reassumed their positions.

Does everyone get this tired after sex? He yawned and wished he had access to a computer. Where was WebMD when he needed it?

Stretching, he sat up to peer over the couch toward the kitchen. With her back toward him, Lilith stood over the stove in a short, white silk robe that accentuated her shapely curves and long legs. Her auburn hair waterfalled in loose ringlets down her back, the color a stark, wild contrast to the flawless ivory of the fabric. Blood rushed between his legs. The constant urge to run his fingers through her hair, to taste her skin, and hear her call his name just one more time returned with a vengeance…

As if hearing his thoughts, Lilith looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, the simple expression lighting up her face. It made his heart skip a beat.

“Tristan? Are you spying on me?” she teased, turning back to her work.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I…just woke up.” He threw the blanket aside and shuffled to the kitchen, hopping up on the island he liked to sit on while she cooked. “How long was I out?”

“Not long at all. However, I sensed you might be famished after your hard work.” She paused, letting her meaning settle. Tristan flushed. “I hope you like steak.”

“I love steak! It smells awesome.” Swinging his feet back and forth, he thought of more questions he could ask that hopefully wouldn’t bother her. “What’s your favorite food, Lilith?”

“Let me see.” She tapped one long finger to her temple as if deep in thought. “I would have to say any dish with significant spice.”

“Like what?”

“Pippali chicken, mapo tofu, doro wat, and jjigae are excellent examples.” Her accent molded around each term as if she fluently spoke their language. Tristan picked up on “tofu” and “chicken,” but he didn’t know the rest. “Unfortunately, I have found that not many people share my tolerance for heat.” She giggled. “And what is it that excites your taste buds?”

“Anything sweet.” The irony was not lost on him. “Cake, pie, ice cream. If it has a lot of sugar, I’ll love it.”

It wasn’t lost on Lilith, either. “Sugar and spice, then.”

“Opposites attract?” The words felt awkward even before he’d said them. But…he wanted to trust her. She hadn’t given him a reason to walk on eggshells with her.

“Oh? Is that why we work so well together?” She pushed the pan of steaks into the oven before turning to face him. Studying him curiously, she leaned against the countertop. “Tristan…do you have any regrets?”

Tristan blinked. That’s one heck of a change in topic. “What do you mean?”

“While you were asleep, my thoughts ran away with me.” Lilith averted her gaze and toyed with her hair. “Your nervous confession made me realize that your first time with a lover should have been special. It was important to you.”

Tristan canted his head. “Isn’t it important to everyone?”

Biting her lip, Lilith kept her eyes somewhere distant. “Not necessarily. Which is why, as your first lover, I am afraid that perhaps I rushed you too quickly.” It was the first time she seemed unsure of herself.

It was the last thing he’d expected to hear from her. Tristan laughed.

Her attention snapped back to his face. “Why do you laugh?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… You brought me here without exactly asking, we’ve done all of these crazy things together, and this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.” The blank stare on her face said she didn’t understand. He distilled his feelings into the simplest solution possible. “Lilith, I don’t regret it. I wanted it just as much as you did.”

That answer seemed to satisfy her, and she smiled. “I’m glad.”

“How long until dinner’s ready?” His mouth was already beginning to water. The whole kitchen smelled like delicious steak.

Lilith glanced at a ticking timer that sat on top of the oven. “About forty-five minutes. What would you like to do?”

“Would you mind if I played one of my games?” He looked timidly at his hands. It felt like ages since he’d held a controller in them.

“A video game? May I watch?”

“Yeah! I-I mean, if you want to.”

Lilith closed the distance between them. “I would not have asked otherwise.” She kissed his shoulder and took his hand as he hopped off of the counter.

They made their way back to the living room together, and Lilith arranged herself on the couch while Tristan set up one of his systems to her gargantuan television.

In just a few plugs of cables and clicks of the remote, the screen came to life with the harmonic sound of the system start-up. He searched through a box of games before grabbing one that was still in the shrink wrap. It was old. He’d purchased it second hand for five bucks after he’d heard that it was decent.

“What are we playing?” Lilith lifted her chin slightly.

“It’s called Thirteen Nights. You play as a guy who has thirteen days to escape this city before it blows up.”

“The city simply evaporates? Why? What happens to it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should play and find out.” A small, sly smile played at his lips as he tossed the game in and grabbed the controller.

“Such sass! What will I do with you?” She reached for him and tickled his sides—forcing a fit of giggles from him—before snuggling him close and wrapping them both in the blanket.

For the first time in Lilith’s care, he felt truly at home. Lying against her on the couch, waiting for dinner to cook, playing a game while she asked questions and laughed along with him. He couldn’t have asked for more.

In the time they had to play, Tristan had only advanced to day two. They’d learned that evidence of a bomb dropping on the city had fallen into the main character’s hands, but the secret police also knew, and they were exhausting all efforts to keep everyone in for a government-planned “purge.” Before they could find out why, the timer went off for the steaks.

To his surprise, Lilith groaned. “I must know what happens on the third day!”

“We can keep playing.” He laughed and stretched, his stomach growling in protest. “Let’s just eat first, please.”

Lilith amiably squeezed his thigh and moved back to the kitchen, taking the steaks out of the oven and grabbing two plates.

“Video games are much different than books or movies,” Lilith mused. “It seems they require a great effort on the player in order to earn a similar payoff.”

“Wait, have you never played a game before?” Tristan asked, shocked. Even Ivy, the oldest person he knew, played Candy Crush on her phone.

“I had not seen a reason to, but I am open to learning more. It is entertaining to watch you play.” She prodded a steak with a long fork and set it on Tristan’s plate.

“T-That’s good. I think…”

Lilith giggled. “It is.”

She’d prepared mashed potatoes and green beans in advance and piled both on their plates near to bursting. Tristan took a seat at the long dining room table and all but inhaled his portions. Everything was delicious and perfect as usual. Lilith’s cooking was a thing of legend.

“Would you enjoy a little dessert before we return to your game?” Lilith asked when they’d finished. She was up to something. It was the way she said it. The weight of her gaze heated his skin, from his head down to his toes.

“Something sweet?” he murmured, almost afraid to ask.

“Naturally.” She wandered over to the refrigerator and made a show of searching through it, turning and bending this way and that, catching glimpses of Tristan watching over her shoulder. Then, she reached inside and retrieved a can of whipped cream. He waited for a moment for her to take out something else, but she didn’t. She just closed the door.

Tristan looked around. There wasn’t anything sitting on the counters that would go well with whipped cream. “So… That’s it?”

“Not quite.” She took a seat on the floor beside Tristan’s chair. Looking up, she locked his gaze and carefully moved her hair over one shoulder, baring her throat. After shaking the can, she drew a small heart in whipped cream on her neck. “Better?”

Tristan’s stomach was in his throat as he slid to his knees, straddling her legs. “Much better,” he whispered, his voice a menagerie of tones lost inside of his emotions: lust, desire, need.

He gently clasped her shoulders as he moved his lips to her skin, lapping at the cream with small strokes of his tongue. The exhilarating blend of the sugar with her natural taste set his blood on fire. She pressed herself into him, urging him on. Once he was finished, he sucked at her skin, cleaning every last drop of cream.

He needed more.

Lifting the can of whipped cream from her hand, he wrapped his fingers in her hair and tilted her head back. Then he drew a straight line from the base of her throat to the exposed skin in the middle of her breasts.

“Mmm… Getting braver, I see.” She smiled and leaned back onto her elbows, allowing him easier access.

Tristan’s hands supported the graceful arch of her back as he nibbled at the cream in a slow descent. Her typically steady breathing came in short gasps with each stroke of his tongue. With one hand, he pushed the hem of her robe to the side, revealing one naked breast. Toward the end of the path he’d drawn, he changed course, lapping at the warm, delicious skin of her chest in a languid line to her nipple. She moaned and arched higher, her hand pressing against the back of his neck to try to make him move faster. He refused.

“Why must you tease me like this? It’s torture.” Her words said one thing, but her body said otherwise. She trembled beneath every flick of his tongue or test of his teeth.

With a soft chuckle, he opened the rest of her robe, letting it fall down her arms and leaving her naked, before drawing his tongue back to the whipped cream map he’d created. The switch in power exhilarated him, and he was intent on keeping it that way. Better to continue and let her say the word if it was too much than to let her take over now. He grabbed hold of the can and extended the fluffy line down further, ending a few inches below her navel. His own treasure map.

He tossed the can aside and moved his hands to her breasts, teasing them as he had with his tongue while he worked down her stomach with his mouth. When he reached her abdomen, both of her hands went to his hair and she leaned backward until she lay flat on the floor. He took his time circling her hips, leaving small red blooms here and there with his teeth, each one eliciting a lovely sigh or whimper from her lips. Finally, he returned to her center, pausing between her legs, using his breath to tempt her further. She parted her thighs and stroked his hair.

“Tristan. Please,” Lilith begged.

He was happy to oblige.

He parted her folds with his tongue and found her dripping. Taking his hands away from her chest, he parted her thighs further and made sure every crevice enjoyed special attention. She tasted phenomenal; hot, sharp, and sweet. Her hips rocked against his mouth, and her hands alternated between his hair and shoulders, searching for ways to pull him in deeper, push him faster, until finally, he snatched her wrists.

“Wait—” she gasped.

Tristan ignored her pleas and held her hands beneath her thighs, arresting her last shreds of control. He continued at his own pace, alternating between full, flat presses of his tongue against her clit, and tiny, tantalizing licks at her opening. Calves rested on his shoulders, and her cries encouraged him further and told him exactly where and when to press her harder. She had spread her legs to their widest, allowing him full access to every inch of her. He slid his tongue inside of her, tasting her walls, drinking her desire. A delicious throbbing reverberated inside his throat as he pressed deeper, opened her wider.

“I-m… I—” she whispered between moan-soaked breaths, but he didn’t slow. He wanted to push her over the edge, to taste her as she did.

A chorus of cries joined his name when the orgasm took her. A rush of heat and liquid filled his mouth, and he drank her in, relentlessly thrusting, lapping, and circling her yielding skin with his tongue. Her cries echoed against the walls and her hands writhed in his grip. His motions continued as her convulsions slowed, the final drops reaching his lips and sliding down his throat.

Lilith’s quivering legs untangled from his shoulders and her feet rested on either side of him. Feeling that she’d reached her climax’s end, he released her wrists and propped himself up on his palms planted on either side of her head, staring down at her smiling face.

“Did I do well?” It was probably the wrong thing to say. He chewed the inside of his cheek while he waited for her validation, silently chiding himself for not having a single dominant bone in his body.

I really need more practice with this.

“Yes, little love, you did extraordinarily well.” She cupped his face in her hands and guided his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply. When she released him, she gave him a knowing look. “Well then, shall we see what happens in our little apocalypse story?”

“Yes!” He hopped up from the floor and assisted her to stand. After he took his place on the couch, he peered over the back, watching while she tied the sash around her robe. “Did that really feel good?”

Lilith smiled. “Did you not hear the sounds you forced from me?”

Tristan blushed. “I-I mean… Yeah…”

“You are adorable.” She sat beside him, then gathered him and the blanket into her lap. Bending forward, she whispered into his ear, “I would enjoy seeing more of that side of you.”

A shiver rocketed down Tristan’s spine. “You would?”

“Yes. I hope to see all sides of you, my sweet.” Lilith kissed his cheek and settled into the cushions. “Now, let’s play.”