“You awake, beautiful?”
Being kissed awake beats a pail of cold water in the face anyday. I love the incredibly male smell of him. Nuzzle my nose under his nipple and just breath him in until I feel my lungs will burst with it. His hands are in my hair, pulling me to him, to straddle his chest. He hasn’t let go, just holding me, watching me. Something’s changed.
Pulling me down to him, my hands stroking the scruff of stubble. His kiss is gentle, deeper and softer than before. More. His hand in my hair, on my lower back, pressing me to him. I can feel him harden beneath me, but, so far, he hasn’t done anything about it. Won’t let me move either.
He pulls me back, kissing my neck. I move, making it easier for him. His lips, so soft, moving up the line of my throat to my ears, pulling at the earlobe. Both hands now in my hair. Pulling me back a little. His eyes are silver pools in the darkness, holding mine. Unreadable, as ever. The intensity, however, is an open book. Something’s changed.
Sure, I could have let her sleep a little longer. Probably should have. What I want to do is spend every minute with her. Less than nine hours now. That’s nine hours until her surgery. Eight hours until we dock. Seven hours or so I actually get to spend with her, like this. Not enough time. For once in my life I ignore my dick, ignore the call to get what I can, when I can. Sure, I want her, but I want this more. Her lips are full, and soft. Bruised. I’ve tried to be gentle. It’s hard when you look at what you’re doing as solely fucking, for it’s own sake. Something’s changed.
Breathe that deep sweet musky scent of her. Smelling me on her. Mine. Pull back a little and just look at her. Surprised at how good that word made me feel. Is that what I want? For her to be mine? Is that my perfect moment? Say it again to myself. Mine. Her hands stroking my stubble, cupping my face in her hands. That ache in my heart. That one thing I want so deeply. Not just for something to be mine, but for me to be hers. Seven hours. Nine, at the most. If we’re lucky…..If we’re very, very lucky, more. Right now I’ll take her one perfect moment, and she’ll be mine.
“I can’t just fuck you anymore, Anise.”
“Have I done something wrong?”
What could she possibly think she’s done wrong? Hold her face in my hands, my thumbs stroking beside her eyes, pulling them back a little. Soothing her. The tiny crease between her eyes disappears. Lower her to me, kissing her again, letting her melt into me. Hold her with one hand, flip over. Settle gently between her thighs. Nuzzle her neck, her ears.
“I’d rather make love to you.”
Some people throw that word around like it means nothing. I don’t. Rarely felt the need. Most women I wanted would have laughed outright if I was stupid enough to make the claim. What does a whore need with love? To her, fucking is fucking, plain and simple. Get done what you need done and get out. I want more. Something’s changed.
We’re both quiet for a moment. I know in my heart that this isn’t something he says just for something to say. He’s deadly serious. That one word hits something deep inside him. He falters a moment, before continuing to kiss my neck, like he’s surprised himself. Feel his heart skip, just a little faster. Let my hand rest on his stubble, for what seems like an eternity. My hand on his jaw, pull him up, to kiss me again. Take him into me fully, our kiss deep and passionate. Feel my perfect moment, to make love to him, and forget everything else.
So slow, never once breaking our kiss. Shift my hips, making room for him between my thighs. Entry is soft, and gentle. Low moan, the delicious feel of being full of him. His hand lazily stroking the outside of my thigh, holding it against his side. Tangle my fingers in his. His thrusts are deep, and slow. His other hand arching my neck up to him, our moans and growls muffled in our kiss. The vibration of his beautiful voice echoing through me. This is lazy, langorous, and deep, filling a need far deeper than merely the physical. This is perfect. Our bodies, stripped of sheer need for each other, now free to glide as one with each other. Release far from our minds. Living right here, my hips raising to his in a rhythm driven by a deeper desire. A deeper want.
Our kiss breaks, not suddenly, but in stages. His leaning down to trace his lips over mine, leaning in to take my lips again in his. At some point, just resting my head back. Our eyes continuing what our lips started. The intensity hasn’t left him. Our breath quickening, even as our bodies don’t. Slick with sweat now, our bodies aching for each other. We fight the race for the inevitable end, feeling ourselves lose. Wanting to surrender, and not wanting this to end. Our eyes locked, lost. We’re lost, we give in to the drive in us both. Harder. Faster. Hurtling towards the inevitable. My back arching, my eyes closing. No.
“Look at me, Anise. Come for me.”
His voice is so hoarse, so deep, that if I were not so close, there would be no way I could hear it. Lost in the quicksilver pools of his eyes. We come together. A first. Both buck at the same time. Exquisite pleasure, feeling our come mingling, at the same time, deep inside me. Untangle my fingers from his. Wrapping my arms around his neck. Feel my breath shudder against his chest, not wanting to cry.
“Let it go, baby, it’s all right.”
I move beside her, pulling her to me, holding her tight to me. Stroke her back. Her tears gone again, as fast as they came. Feel every one burning a hole in my chest. Something’s changed.
Mine. This is what it is to love. To be loved.
© 27 Jan 2006, 16:36