He takes me by the hand and squeezes it gently, before leading me over to the tarped work in progress. His eyes look down at me pleadingly.
“I need to show you something,” he says. “Please.”
I nod, and he pulls the sheet away. All I can do is gasp at first. It’s the same large statue as before, and yet, it’s totally different. “It’s … a bird. A wren.” I move closer and tears fill my eyes. It’s a wren, but it’s also a person. An angel. It’s the two things mixed together, twisted as it performs some sort of freeing, transformative dance. “It’s beautiful.”
He nods. “For weeks before I even met you, I kept having had the same recurring dream of a woman. In my dreams, I was desperate for her, but I could never get close enough to catch her. She was always turned into a bird, just before I had the chance to touch her. Every time I woke, I tried so hard to remember what the transformation looked like, but it was always so blurry. I couldn’t grasp it the feeling, and I couldn’t render it even though I was desperate to. The other day, after you left …”
I give Pierce a sharp look, and he corrects himself. “After I, erm, threw you out, I realized she was you. You’re the woman from my dreams, Wren. The songbird, and the woman, wrapped up in one.”
His eyes are locked on me as I circle the nearly life-sized statue. The lines sweep into wings, into legs and arms outstretched as it dances. The attention to detail makes me hot all over, imagining him smoothing his hands over the clay rendition while thinking of me. There’s a heavy lump in my throat and I take in its wild, unchecked beauty.
“It’s wonderful,” I say. “But I don’t understand. How could you dream of me before you met me?”
He looks at me and smiles softly. “I don’t know if I dreamt of you exactly. I think I’ve been alone for so long, I dreamt of finding someone, someone who I could love and would love me in return. Someone who had the power to make changes, be it in me or something else. Then, I met you. You made me feel more than just angry and inadequate, for the first time in who knows how long. After we made love, I realized you were the woman I was waiting for.”
The look of torment on his handsome, exhausted face nearly breaks the last few intact pieces of my heart. He cups my face, his eyes searching mine.
“I started this statue weeks ago but couldn’t finish it. I didn’t know how to smooth out the edges or finish it at all. But after seeing you, I found the energy. It’s you, Wren. You’ve helped me with your heart and your beauty.”
I melt against him. “You think I’m beautiful?” I’ve been teased my whole life for being pale and mousy. And yet, he’s here, saying it still, and I find myself believing him.”
He tips my chin to look at him. “Your beauty consumes me. It’s indefinable. I need you here.”
“You have me here,” I tell him as the last of my anger and heartbreak melt away, the last word cut off by his kiss.
The memory of his lips on mine has been consuming me the last few days, and I go wild, clawing at his shirt to feel his skin. He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his hips, feeling like I’ve come home.
“I want to see you in natural light,” he says. “See the sun glint off your body.”
“Anything you want,” I assure him.
He carries my outside into his wild garden and lays me down on a soft, grassy patch surrounded by colorful flowers and shaded by a huge willow tree. I want to tell him how happy I am, but he kisses me again, and I can only enjoy the sensation.
His hands roam up and down my sides, and as soon as I spread my legs for him, his palm cups my needy pussy. I wish more than anything that I’d put on something easier to take off because I need to feel his fingers inside me. Sensing how urgently I want him, he yanks down my leggings, dragging my panties with them.
“Oh, yes,” I sigh. I can feel his smile against my mouth, then his tongue pushes inside. This is ecstasy, but …
Clamping my hands on his shoulders I push him away, struggling to focus on his face while his fingers work my swollen clit.
“Pierce, this is important.”
He nods, and his fingers still. “Tell me.”
“You’re the only man I want inside me, ever.”
He smirks and licks his lips, making me almost forget my train of thought. “I can tell how much you want me, little bird. I love how wet I can make your pussy. Believe me, I want you too. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”
I want to tell him I love him, but suddenly his mouth is on mine again, his fingers sliding into my wet heat. I can’t think at all, just ride the waves of pleasure. The look in his eyes makes my skin tingle as he kisses his way down my body. It seems like he’s going to bypass my breasts, and I moan in anticipated frustration as he moves downward.
With a chuckle, he unsnaps my bra and takes one of my tight nipples in his mouth, his thumb rolling over the other one. I arch my back and flop limply at the same time, making him laugh more. I love the joyful sound of it, love that I’m the one giving him so much happiness.
“I’d never stop before playing with these juicy little tits,” he says, lightly biting and making me scream.
“How?” I pant. “How do you do it?”
“I love how easy it is to make you come, sweetheart. I’m going to do it again, right now.”
He dives between my legs and plunges his tongue deep inside me, holding my hips so I can’t squirm. It’s almost ruthless how he licks and sucks me, and true to his word, I’m screaming from another orgasm in minutes.