I moved up to him and hugged him. Closing my eyes, I let myself feel for a few minutes the weight of something real, something solid. I was pretty sure he was startled at first and didn't know how to react, but his hand came up cradling the back of my head.
I finally faced him, my hands coming up to the buttons of his shirt.
"Are you sure?", he asked. I could have sworn what I saw in the depth of his eyes was concern if it wasn't too brief.
I smiled giving him a slow nod. He bent down, scooped me in his arms, and headed to the room. He placed me on the bed with a gentleness that stole my breath. As he captured my mouth in a deep kiss, I knew I wouldn't regret this. He proceeded to cover each facial part of mine with a kiss, my forehead, my cheeks, the bridge of my nose.
The feel of his skin under my hands was electric sending shivers and a wave of something more down my body. Each part he laid bare was caressed, thoroughly kissed. His hands were so sure yet searching, a light feather touch over my nipples, a caress followed by deep kisses over my hips. The torture was sweet, exquisite yet I wanted more. More kisses, more caresses, and most importantly, more of him.
An absolute need for control can be inferred from his actions. He always let me lead for a few glorious seconds, leaning into my touch, cradling the back of my head, deepening my kisses before regaining control seamlessly.
More than just a search, it was an exploration. I was laid bare, utterly seen, a kiss at the arch of my foot, a kiss on my ankle, caresses so intense and kisses so deep on my butt, a kiss at the back of my ear. My consciousness dropped to half as his hand slid in my inner thigh, and I instinctively opened my legs wider.
My control was just hanging by a string as he travelled up my inner thigh leaving maddening kisses at his stops. I felt my core thrumming.
"Please", I breathed out.
And the world narrowed down to the feeling of his tongue, his fingers, the contact of my fingers against his curls. His touch on my thigh was soft yet firm, like an anchor. I wanted to be held like that forever. Only when I was dripping with pleasure, my legs slightly shivering did he rise.
"Arch your back", the command was soft yet laced with a possessiveness I didn't know I needed.
I arched, my legs slightly trembling; he held me, gently adjusting my position before finally sheathing himself into me.
"Is it ok?" he whispered softly his arm coming up to my hips.
I adjusted myself taking him deeper. He started slowly as if to be really sure I was comfortable. I smiled; my comfort came first before any other form of pleasure.
My hand came up, caressing his hand that was holding my thigh.
"Faster, please" I breathed out. That was all the permission he needed.
I held on to his arm as I released, and he followed to the edge a few minutes later. He didn't withdraw immediately. He lay on me, covering me with kisses, my hand tangled in his hair. I loved the feeling of my upper body against his chest. He finally withdrew, and as our eyes met, I smiled. He kissed me so deeply it bordered on passion.
He finally moved, turning me against his chest and holding me. His fingers were caressing my knuckles as he planted soft kisses on my back. I smiled again. My brain was so fogged with pleasure and a strange feeling that I couldn't even compare his temporal treatment to Alex's own.
All that mattered was the feeling of his skin, our intertwined hands, and the feeling of his lips against my back. As my breath evened out, sleep overtook me. Satisfaction felt to be a word too small to describe the feeling derived from the consensual act of both shedding our broken parts momentarily.