Nails dig into skin.

Clothes fly through the air like doves in the sky.

Fingers entwine into a perfect weave.

I know I love Thomas. I do. Seeing him again like this revives all the adoration for him hidden within me.

He rests me on the old dining room table, parting my bare thighs around his naked torso. Our lips fight wars with each other. His attempt to convince me to stay-his kisses making a damn good argument, while mine say goodbye.

He bites my lower lip as he breaks a kiss. "If this is it, then I'm going to give you everything that I am," he whispers to me. "My only goal is to please my daffodil."

He dances a fingertip over my entrance, teasing me for what's to come. His already pulsing erection presses against my thigh.

A breathy moan begs for him to continue. "Thomas..."

"Daffodil," he coaxes.

The nickname loosens my muscles as he thrusts a finger deep into me. I cry out his name, curling my fingers into his dirty blonde hair. I pull it from its tie, letting it descend down his neck in silky waves.

He inserts another finger, flexing them both inside of me to create our own symphony of physical satisfaction, but my cries of pleasure aren't enough to satisfy the wild creature lurking beneath Thomas' skin. He desires more from me, and I from him.

This is a mistake. I know what he's done, but I'm more fixated on the present than the past.

His other hand wraps around the base of my throat, guiding my head back to unveil my neck. He replaces his grip with brushes of open mouth kisses.

"Look at what you do to me," he murmurs between nibbling kisses on my throat. "I've never been so fucking hard."

"Thomas," I cry as his fingers pick up speed. His name only brings more hunger within him.

He smirks as he removes his fingers from within me. I frown, but soon feel the tip of his erection near my entrance. I look down at myself, at how parted my legs have become for him. He changed my mind so easily, and I know we're about to make the worst of mistakes.

I gaze at the designs of his scars, and the definition of his sculpted muscles. He catches me staring at him as I look up to those ocean irises. Beautiful is the only way I can describe him.

I set my hand on his abdomen, savoring the texture of his body. He hums with pleasure as my touch traces the v-muscle on him, down lower, down until my fingers stroke his hardened length. When I wrap my palm around him, he hisses with pleasure, but he quickly tears my hand away from him.

"Do you want me to cum over the table?" he whispers in my ear.

I shake my head, which earns me a kiss on my neck.

"My beautiful daffodil," he murmurs in response. "If I fuck you here, I'll break this table."

His cock twitches against my thigh at the words. He obviously likes the idea of breaking furniture while pleasuring me.

He hums softly as I melt against his bare chest. "Let me take you upstairs."

Our lips meet once more, and he's picking me up in his sinewy arms. While our lips say what words fail to, we find ourselves entwined in a bedroom. When my eyes open, I recognize old maps and trinkets on shelves. We lay on a bed hardly made for two people with old handmade quilts. This isn't just any room. We're tucked away in the bedroom of a six-year-old Thomas. It's strange to be in a child's room, but it'd be stranger to take any other, considering one would belong to his deceased parents and the others to his siblings.

Thomas' lips mark up my throat as gives his hips a few thrusts against me. When he finally ceases his suckles against my pulse point, he finds my eyes. I've never seen those ocean irises so bright, so alive. This man is the man who hid everything from the world.

For the first time since I met him, I finally see Thomas.

Not the Thomas who his father created him to be. Not the Thomas who conceals every emotion he faces.

But Thomas.

The smiles. The jokes. The teases.

Those blue eyes tell me enough that Thomas has never loved anyone outside his family before. Of course he's done so physically, but never emotionally.

Until he found me.

I bash my forehead against his. "Be with me tonight," I beg.

He nods his head as the tip of his erection settles near my entrance.

"I... I don't have a condom," he blushes a little. "I can pull out."

"Just go in," I grip into his hips and grind myself against him, to which gets a loud growlish moan from the back of his throat.

"Daffodil-"

With one harsh thrust of his hips, I take in his entire magnificent length.

I sigh as my body adjusts to him, and I find my hands tracing his sculpted back muscles as he begins to move. He utters my nickname into my skin as our bodies mold tighter together.

He tilts my hips just a bit and begins to pick up his pace, berating my core and building up the pleasure within me. We've done this before countless times in his apartment, but this is the first time Thomas and I have truly made love.

There's no lies anymore. No barriers. No obstacles in our path.

Just two hearts wishing to beat as one.

The mattress creaks wildly as Thomas increases his pace. "You take me so fucking well, daffodil."

I try to match his speed as my nails dig deeper into his skin.

I think of him.

His smile.

His voice.

His arms.

His care.

His love.

"Thomas, please I'm gonna-"

My body unravels beneath him. His thrusts become sloppy, his pace uneven and breath hitching.

Until-

"Fuck!" He pulls out, spilling himself over my stomach.

The bed stops creaking, and the only sound between us is heavy panting. I meet his gaze, only to see how wide his pupils have become from our love. He drops his mouth down against mine, kissing my lips slowly. Now I realize how swollen they've become from him.

Thomas.

He ends his series of soft kisses. "Let me wash you up."

I nod my head as he stands up from the bed. The moonlight illuminates his back muscles as wanders the room. It's hard not to gawk at him when he's so exposed like this, but I know he's more than just handsome. We've come so far, and yet we're falling so short.

He grabs an old blanket from the closet and wipes me down. I giggle as he tickles me. The sound brings a smile to his usually stone lips.

"I love you," he whispers, then tosses the wash blanket off the bed. He lays himself against me, resting his head up against mine. "I don't think I can stop..."

I comb back his blonde hair. I love him. I know I can't hide from the fact that this mysterious secretive man once owned my heart. Tonight, he just proved that he still possesses a sliver of it.

He always will.

But although he told me about his past and broken family, there's still work to be done. There's still blood on his hands and a gun (that was tossed somewhere in the dining room amidst our stripping) beneath his clothes.

All those things about him pained my heart deeply.

And yet I still love him.

I roll him over so he lays on his back and straddle his hips. "Let me love you," I whisper against his lips. He closes those blue eyes with a soft nod.

Tonight, I will forget everything that Thomas has ever done.

I will love the boy who just needs to feel loved.

* * * * *

Thomas parks the car just outside Cato's estate. The sun hasn't risen yet, and the streets remain empty.

He keeps his blue eyes ahead of him. "Is this your final decision?"

My heart fractures at the question, but I nod my head without saying a word.

"Then I'll stay away," his knuckles clench against the steering wheel. "You won't see me anymore."

"It's complicated," I tell him. "You're the man who killed the woman who was like a mother to me."

"It was a mistake-"

"One that shouldn't have been made," I cut him off.

Our eyes meet, and the aliveness I once saw in them begins to fade. There's no spark. No light. Just an empty shell of a man.

"Goodbye, Thomas," I whisper, then kiss his cheek.

Without another word, I rush out of the car and into the silence of the night. Nobody at the estate notices that I'm missing as they clean up from the aftermath of the engagement party.

When I enter into my bedroom, I find myself alone with a broken heart.

What have I done?

-----

There you have it, folks. The final verdict on Thomas... maybe.

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