know. I deserve your penance stare for that. It’s pretty shameful. She lowered her head to him, her long hair tickling his stomach.
Julian wanted to say he was glad he found his way into her mouth but couldn’t speak.
Afterward he asked her to get the coconut oil she carried in her bag.
She gave him the small jar. Will it be enough?
No, he said. But it will do. Rubbing it into his hands, he kneaded and caressed her whole warm moaning glistening body, circling her with his knuckles and palms from her neck to the soles of her feet. He made her slippery all over, as if she weren’t slippery enough, and then kissed her where his hands had just been, from her neck to the soles of her feet and everything in between. She moaned with the astonishment of angels. Her abandoned cries were a ratchet in his loins.
You are so sweet, Mia.
My God, it is so so good.
He soldered himself to her molten body.
She was gasping, and helpless, and wordless, and writhing. One unbroken rapture, one continuous cry.
Release brought tears that felt like happiness but looked like pain.
Release brought tears that looked like happiness but felt like pain.
Oh, Julian, she whispered, kissing his neck, holding his face, how do you know how to touch me like that?
Like what, Mia? Shh. Don’t cry, why are you crying? He wiped the tears from her eyes.
Like I love to be touched, how do you know how to do that? Who are you? Why do you make love to me like you know me?
He wanted to tell her it was true: she felt familiar—yet new. He had seen her in his dreams and sometimes, before they turned into nightmares, he touched her. But not like this. Nothing was like this. Because the impassioned drenched girl in his hands was real.
Love me until I say no more, the real girl whispered, giving her body to him over and over. Take me until I say no more.
But she wouldn’t say no more.
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me.
What she said was, Julian, my every breath exhales me and inhales you until all that’s left inside me is you. All that’s left inside me is you, Julian. Do you hear me?
I do. All that was inside me is now inside you. He watched her face. Why are you looking at me like that?
Like what?
I don’t know. Like I’m all you want.
Do anything you want, she whispered in reply, grabbing on to the headboard. Take anything you want.
And Julian took it.
Deep in the night, she went to get him water. He looked thirsty to her, Mirabelle said. She rummaged through the shelves in the kitchen to find a tic tac. She turned on the oven. She called room service from the living area, quietly talked to them on the phone, waited for them by the door, and tipped the guy out of her own money. Julian waited on the bed, flat on his back, knocked down but not out. Something smelled good, besides her. A toaster popped. She brought in toast and jam and hot tea with lemon—and warm chocolate chip cookies. I baked them, she said. I asked room service for cookie dough. They were very accommodating. A man needs his strength, she said. You never know what he might be called upon to do.
You mean there is something more he might be called upon to do? Julian said.
She watched him eat and drink, and then crawled into his arms, pressing her body into him, stroking him with her slickened hands.
Why can’t I get enough of you? she murmured. I’ve had so much of you. Too much. I’m raw. Yet I still want more.
He pushed the plate of food onto the floor.
You want more?
Her arms flew above her head. Her body softened, flattened out.
Mia, Mia.
She cried out.
Come inside me again, come inside me, come inside, come.
She makes hungry where she most satisfies.
44
Mystique and Doctor Doom
THE NEXT MORNING THEY STAYED IN BED. SILENTLY SHE gawped at him with an expression you could pour over waffles. She had ordered raw eggs from room service and scrambled them herself; she brought him coffee, juice, toast; she sat in bed, propped up against the pillows, and watched him eat.
“You’re not very chatty this morning,” Julian said, lying on his side, smiling up into her face. “Surprising, because yesterday, you were an unstoppable chatting force.”
“Yesterday,” she said shyly, “I was trying to find a combination of words that