Page 21 of Raise Up, Heart
But this—this is really real. This feels like nothing he’s experienced since Damon’s death. It’s getting greedy and desperate, and their mouths are fused together, while small noises of need escape them both. Cole gets Damon’s shirt unbuttoned first, and he pushes it off Damon’s shoulders. His hands go to Damon’s chest, mapping the lines of him, and then they brush over the scar.
Cole pulls back, and stares down at the red, thick line down the middle of Damon’s chest. He tentatively puts a finger on it and touches the glossy, raised tissue.
“Does it hurt?” He trembles.
Damon takes his hand, runs the tip of his fingers down the scar, and says, “Frankenstein’s monster. Proof of my terrible nature.”
“Wow,” Cole says. “That’s where they—”
“Put my heart in Alex’s body,” Damon says.
“Oh my God.” Cole touches the scar again.
He doesn’t know why, but it’s the scar that makes him believe. It’s not a dream. This is reality. And there’s no explanation, but Damon is here with him, the real Damon, not a dream or a hallucination, butDamon.
He’s forced his way through hell, and he’s done terrible things, horrific things, to be here with Cole now, and he should be afraid. He should hurt for Alex. For Emily. But all he feels is relief. Huge, sweeping, desperate relief.
“It’s you,” he says. “It’s really you.”
“I don’t knowif I should be relieved that you finally believe it’s me, or worried that you were apparently under the impression that you might be making out with someone else,” you say.
It’s a joke. You know exactly how you feel. Relieved. Deeply relieved, because now he knows, and you have him here with you. Now you can start to dosomethingto make him live again. A plan can commence. You’re selfish, but you’re glad to no longer be alone.
Cole’s kissing you again, and he’s crying at the same time, which just destroys you. He’s got his fingers twisted into your hair, pulling hard, and it hurts, but you don’t mind at all, because you’ll take whatever he needs to give. This isn’t at all how you imagined the night going when you left the cabin earlier in the evening to watch Cole. You only wanted to make sure he was all right, to make sure that he wasn’t going to do something crazy like play in traffic again, and somehow now you have him in your arms, and he’s letting you push the shirt off of his shoulders, kissing you harder, making your torn lip bleed again. You don’t mind.
He’s frenzied now, pushing at you until you’re lying down on the sofa. You have a bed. It’s in the other room. It’s got blankets fresh from the laundromat and a space heater to fight the cold night air, but Cole isn’t letting your mouth go long enough to tell him.
“I want you,” you whisper when he finally moves on to your neck, sucking and kissing hard enough to leave marks.
He whimpers, humping against your leg, burrowing his arms under your body, to hold you tight enough that it’s hard to breathe. “Damon,” he says, the hot breath against the wet skin of your text. “Need you so much.”
You manage to get your hand down to his fly, undoing the button and the zipper, and he lifts up off of you enough to help you push his pants down over his hips. His cock is hot, and your hand wraps around it before he can collapse on top of you again. He shudders as you squeeze.
He always wanted to wait before. He wanted to be sure. You think about asking him if this is what he wants now, but he’s moving so fast, rutting into your hand, pawing at your body, rough and needy. You run your hand down his back, and his skin is smooth, soft, and you’re surprised by the intense emotion that shocks through you as you touch him.
You can tell he’s about to come. He’s tensing, holding his breath, and struggling for it, reaching with his whole body, and you’re pretty close, too. His hips are angled against your cock, and each downward thrust into your hand pushes against your dick too. He shudders, and his back goes slippery with a fine sheen of sweat now, as you rub your hand up and down, encouraging him to come. This is something you dreamed about before, and you’ve dreamed about since, and yet this exact situation was not what you imagined. It’s more primal. Less romantic. Not how you thought Cole would want to do this at all.
“Damon,” he gasps against your neck, shaking and so very close. You have to see his face. You need to know what he looks like when he comes. You shove on his shoulder, pushing him toward the couch, turning so that you’re both on your sides, and it’s easier to move your hand this way. He’s wrecked. His eyes are open, staring at you, and he’s a disaster of emotions: love, lust, fear, hope. You don’t know that you’ve ever seen anyone so mixed up, so painfullyneedy, and something in you rises to that, wants to fill that space, make him whole.
He licks his lips, takes your hand in his, and moves it to a different rhythm, faster and rough. You kiss his mouth, and he shudders, twisting his hips, driving his cock recklessly into your loosely clenched fist. Suddenly, he says, “This isn’t a dream, right? I don’t wanna wake up.”
“It’s not a dream,” you say.
His eyes go to your chest, and his fingers touch the scar, running up and down over it. Then he stares at your face, vulnerable, lost, just as he tenses, gasps, and comes hard, his body jerking and shaking, spurts of come hitting your stomach and sliding down over your hand. You’re full ofemotionsseeing this, feeling the heat of his jizz on your skin, the panting of his breath in your face. You love him.
You love him something fierce.
CHAPTER 5
Cole opens hiseyes, and he’s still here with Damon. The room hasn’t changed or morphed. Damon’s still got a blazing red scar on his chest, and he’s still there feeling like Damon under Cole’s fingers.
Damon milks Cole’s cock slowly, pulling the last shudders and drops of come from his body.
Cole pushes his hand away, too sensitive now, and he doesn’t mind at all when Damon twines his come-covered fingers into Cole’s hair to bring him in for a kiss. He wants to be covered in their sex. He wants to have Damon’s jizz and life on him, and, soon, in him. He wants to see Damon’s face when he orgasms, and he wants to see it now.
Damon’s still moving against him, his own hard cock still trapped in his jeans, and Cole’s hand drops down to squeeze it, feeling the outline against the palm of his hand. Damon.
Damon.
