She stays over.
Adam remembers going to sleep with Lilith wrapped around him, remembers thinking that when he wakes up they'll finally make love properly: consummating their passions in a bed, deepening the intimacy that's grown between them. That it will be gloriously romantic because at heart that's what he is. Eve's often accused him of having the soul of a poet since it's composed of equal amounts of melancholy, lust, and passion.
But when he wakes, he's the only one in the bed. Despondent, Adam lies there a moment, wondering when Lilith left. As he rolls over, he hears footsteps, though, and the bedroom door opening. She glides in, and when she sees he's awake, Lilith shoots him a twisted grin. "Hi."
"Hello," Adam purrs, and pats the mattress. "I've been missing you."
She gives a shy laugh and sits next to him, looking delicious in his dressing gown and nothing else. "You really do sleep like the dead when you're out, you know that?"
"I'm awake now," Adam reminds her, sitting up and nuzzling along her shoulder. "Have you been cleaning again?"
"No," Lilith lies, and recants it a moment later. "A little. Mostly I've been writing and puttering. I, ah, called Eve, around one this afternoon. We talked for a while."
Adam looks at her. "Yes?" He's dying to know what they discussed, but isn't sure how to ask.
Lilith brushes a strand of hair from her eyes and smirks. "She wants me to come and visit."
A tinge of alarm mingled with envy runs through him. "Oh really?"
"Yes. I can't at the moment, but there's a possibility in the future. We both could go in fact," Lilith tells him, and begins to slip the shirt off. Adam is torn between asking more and watching her strip, a dilemma that resolves itself when Lilith kisses him.
"Nudity is a good look for you," Adam announces. "I recommend it around me often."
"For a dead man, you have a hyperactive libido, you know that?"
"I prefer to think of it as 'kinetically attuned to current stimuli,' thank you very much," he replies, and pulls her down to the mattress, kissing her from the corner of her laughing mouth to just under her ear. She returns the lip service and they settle into a long session of kissing that becomes more intense.
Adam breathes her, tastes her, and his hungers mingle. The blood just under the surface of her skin sings to him as Lilith blushes, calls to him to sip it even as his body desires hers. He wishes he could nip her and take one little taste . . . Even as he thinks it, his fangs lengthen a fraction and he pulls his face away.
"No," he sighs, "I can't."
Lilith looks up at him, her expression confused, then slightly hurt. "What?"
"I'm . . . hungry," Adam growls. "And you're tempting more than just my prick right now. I don't want to hurt you, so I should go drink before we . . ."
Lilith gives a sigh. "Yeah . . . ." There is disappointment in her tone, and Adam feels a flare of anger at the sound of it. Anger at her for not understanding how difficult it is to pull away; anger at himself for needing to.
"I shouldn't have started this, not before feeding," he confesses and pushes himself up and off of her lovely body, stalking out of the room and downstairs, not waiting to hear if Lilith has anything further to say.
He pulls out the flask and pours what he needs, feeling resentment anew at the sight of the scarlet liquid. It's cost him time and again, this good stuff, and at the moment Adam feels the bitterness burn within him.
Not by choice, he reminds himself. He never chose this life. Never got to consider any options about this fucked up existence, and how he's caught up in the continuing cycle of dependence on these precious ounces. Adam gulps the drink down, bracing one hand on the counter as the dizzying delight rushes through him.
Still not completely reconciled to this, he acknowledges. Adam knows he can go for decades and not think about the inner scar of resentment within him. Then something like Lilith will cut it open again and it festers, spilling that old black bile through him. It stains his music and days . . .
Arms slip around him from behind, holding him firmly, and the unexpected comfort pushes a little moan from his throat. Adam sets the glass down and lets his hand slide over Lilith's arm as it curves around his ribs protectively.
"This is how it is," he mutters, his voice pained. "The good stuff has to come first, Lilith, every time. Because I can't risk hurting you."
"I know," comes her murmur over his shoulder as she rests her cheek against his shoulder blade. "It's a . . . prophylactic measure and I get it, Adam. It's all right."
"Is it?" Adam sulks, but Lilith's hug slides down his waist, and her hands shift to caress him. Even while his thoughts are melancholy, the rest of him is already starting to respond to her teasing touch.
"Yep," Lilith tells him, her tone light and playful. "Now that you've had your first need met, let's see about the others, bubelah."
Her talented fingers cup his heavy balls, the other hand splays against the sensitive flesh under his navel; Adam gives a happy groan. "I may let you talk me into it."
Lilith chuckles and toys with him a bit more, her touch both arousing and comforting. Adam allows himself a moment to enjoy her caresses before turning in her arms and pulling her close.
"All right, I am indebted to you for so very much, Doctor Schatten, and would like to take you back upstairs and shtup you until we are both comatose."
Lilith looks up at him, her gaze forthright. "You sweet-talker, you."
-oo00oo-
It's easy to give in; Lilith leads, kissing him, pinning him down playfully and straddling him on the mattress as she licks his throat and nibbles his collarbones. Adam glories in the feel of her warm weight, across his hips, and his cock throbs.
Lilith guides his hands to her breasts and Adam fills his palms, pleased when she leans forward to kiss him as well. This sort of sweet and joyous foreplay is precisely what they both need, he thinks. Easy, gentle, tender. Adam plays with her curls, brushes his tongue against her nipples, lets himself breathe in the perfume of her living body so pliant in his hands.
The loveliest part of letting Lilith take him is when she does. By the time they're both breathless and on the edge she rises up on her knees and grasps his prick, presses the head against her slick cleft and impales herself on it. Adam groans, his hands gripping her ass, pulling her onto him. Lilith is as hot as a furnace, as slick as wet porcelain and he rocks up into her, matching her rhythm, mindlessly driven in the hot pleasure between them.
She braces her hands on the mattress above his shoulders, her bouncy curls shaking all around his face, and Adam kisses her hard, lets his tongue stroke hers as their pace increases and the mattress creaks. Hot breath against his lips and Lilith's knees tightening around his hips . . . He gasps. That glorious moment before coming Adam feels human again, connected to her not just through flesh and fluid and fever but also through fate.
He cries out as the sullen surges of his climax pulse deep within Lilith, and Adam pulls her close when she begins to shake as well a moment later.
They stay entwined for a while. Adam strokes her back as she dozes on him, feels the trickles leaking down the insides of her thighs and against his pubic fur. Cool seed mingled with warm slickage; where the living meets the dead, he thinks, and for one private moment he wonders what it would be like to conceive a child.
He will never know; if Lilith stays with him, she won't either.
Pushing this melancholy thought aside, Adam rests his cheek against hers and hums a tune he's been working on for a while. It's in a minor key, slow and sweet as it rumbles up from his chest. A moment later, Lilith stirs and smiles at him.
"That was . . . wonderful," she tells him, and to tease she adds, "The shtup was pretty good too."
"Ha-ha," Adam retorts, but he's smiling, and kisses her nose. "Thank you for a glorious consummation. I am moved beyond words."
Lilith blushes. "Thank you. I think . . . I think I could use a shower or a bath, though."
They make it through the awkward unsticking of their bodies; Adam is amused at how this part of lovemaking is always skipped over by poets and musicians. Still, he makes light of it, and leads Lilith to the tub in the bathroom. It's tricky to settle them both into it—he is, after all much longer than she is—but once in, the warm water soothes them both. Lilith settles in comfortably opposite him and lathers up the soap in her hands.
"You're obsessed with cleanliness," Adam teases. He leans back and watches her soap her arms. "It's not natural."
"Forgive me if I'm not thrilled with the dust of the centuries around here," Lilith sighs. "And may I remind you I'm a doctor? I'm in the business of cleanliness."
"You need to let go a bit," Adam flicks water at her.
"Zikher nisht," Lilith tells him. "Uh . . . by the way . . . where are your towels?"
Adam winces.