Lily

1

I am Lily’s father. My name is Pryor. It was a year ago last Father’s Day when she was taken from me, and I still believe being Lily’s father is the most important thing in this world.

Unfortunately, my daughter dwells in another world.

* * * *

I glanced at the necklace I hoped would bring Lily back to me. The silver of it caught the light of the fading moon and the sparkle made me believe it had the power to save my daughter. Could the world be restored by a simple silver necklace? This frail hope wavered as the light changed and the necklace grew dull. It could have been any piece of wrought silver, nothing special or magical. I turned over and listened to Ned snore. He was soft in his sleep, not the bull of a man he is when he’s awake. I loved him soft and I loved him hard. It was his hardness that grounded me, that brought me in from the darkness. I wondered where Lily was tonight.

The old clock on the nightstand hummed quietly, its vintage florescent glow a pale mockery of the necklace that lay beside it, and yet I heard the clock. It won in that department. Time always does.

Ned moved against me. I felt his arms pull me close, felt the bulge of his muscles, his arms thick and powerful. He had never loved a man before me. Until him, I had only loved Lily. Once she changed, I had little left to love; in fact, I was certain love had disappeared from my life all together.

The clock still hummed, never quiet. It was old and made noise as if time itself wanted us all to know that it was passing, and with each minute, Lily fell farther and farther into the darkness. Tears came then, and at the same time Ned’s cock pushed more firmly against my back. He grumbled, pulled me even tighter so that I could truly feel his penis—not hard, not entirely soft—on the edge of wanting. A tear fell and I gasped a little. Seeing the necklace, hearing the clock, feeling Ned’s cock, his muscles, made me fall into him and close my eyes.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I was,” I said softly.

“No, you weren’t.” His voice was sleepy and distant, yet he knew things; he knew I was awake, thinking about my lost daughter.

“It’s Father’s Day,” I said, skipping over my lie. “Do you think she’ll come?”

I felt him nod and nodded in return against my pillow. Another tear fell.

“Come closer,” he whispered.

“How much closer could I get?”

“Closer,” he said again, a growl, a grunt—there was the bull I knew.

His lips brushed my neck, a hand on my thigh stroking, touching, pulling a sigh from my mouth. I wiped a hand across my face.

“I never get sick of touching you,” he whispered wetly, his tongue tracing my ear.

Smiling, I turned in his big arms and could feel my thoughts ease. Ned had that way about him. Magic arms, I called him because he had this way of holding me that made me feel completely safe; and for one man to be able to do that for another is amazing.

I kissed him and was happy to discover that his breath was not bad, but sweet, a trace of his toothpaste before bed still there. I smiled even as I kissed him. Ned sighed gently, his cock fully hard now, urgent, pressing. I reached down and stroked him through his boxers. He was already wet. I tried to pull my tongue from his mouth but he only pulled me closer, deeper. At one point, I was almost certain one of us was going to stop breathing.

He finally relented, but only because I jokingly squeezed his balls a little too tightly.

“Fuck, you make me nuts,” he grumbled. We both laughed at his joke.

His hand reached for my cock—I slept naked, so there was no flimsy cotton between his rough hands and my skin.

“You like that?”

I nodded. I did like it. I thought I wouldn’t ever be able to like sex again, or any intimacy, after Lily disappeared.

His hands were rough, but I relished his edges. He touched me as if he knew me and, after a year, I guess he kind of did.

“You want me to suck it?” His voice was hoarse with the question. There was still a shy embarrassment behind it, as if he couldn’t really believe he was going to suck cock.

“What do you think?”

My response excited him, I could see it in his eyes. Even in the dark, the fading moon told me just enough.