They kissed, sitting on the edge of the roof. Their kiss was slow, as if he were trying to breathe his life into her. For the first time in a long while, she responded to his caresses, and he wanted to prolong the moment. He kissed her forehead, hair, eyes, nose, neck, lips; she pressed her almost weightless body trustingly against him.
He stroked her fragile white neck and shoulders, through the thin skin of which her bones were so clearly visible.
Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the sensations. His greedy kisses, goosebumps on her neck, the wind that could push them down at any moment, the deep abyss between the skyscrapers. Her chest yearned for touch, but there was no need to rush—let the prelude be long, exquisitely long.
She was fragile, like thin glass, but her movements, though slow, were full of the life she was trying to hold onto. Her lips glided over his neck, her breath, weak and uneven, caressed his skin, and every sigh was like a plea—not to let her fade away. She whispered his name, her voice barely audible, but full of desire.
He was wearing a light-colored suit, and she wore that metallic dress. Minimal clothing that would be easy to get rid of. For now, she stroked his back and thighs through the soft cotton of his clothes and felt desire returning. She was almost her old self again—brave, passionate, always ready for love. Her head was spinning, but she held tightly to him and thought how happy she was to always hold onto him, in any situation. To know he was with her in any world.
He felt her veins beneath his fingers, showing through her transparent skin like thin threads, and his heart clenched with pain, but the passion did not subside—it grew like a fire tearing him apart from within. His lips traced the inside of her thigh, and he felt her body tremble, and her weak moan mixed with the wind, intensifying his own arousal.
Feeling that she could no longer hold back, she quickly undid his buttons, her lips clinging to his neck, while her thighs felt the tension and warmth near his lower abdomen.
Unzipping her own dress in the front, she pressed her naked chest against his torso as he stroked her buttocks.
Then she lay down on her back on the rough, cold concrete, and that was exactly what she needed. He entered her and began to move slowly, continuing to kiss her.
His hands gripped her hips, feeling her tremble, and his lips whispered her name like a prayer, every sound shaking with emotion, with the fear of losing her and the desire to dissolve into her.
The rough surface scraped her shoulder blades, adding to the intensity of the sensation. He was still taking his time, but she already craved speed, rhythm, flight. When he took her nipple between his lips, she groaned, arched her back, wrapped her legs tightly around him, and pushed them both off...