You've never had someone take such care with you. You've never had someone spend so much time with their tongue licking over slick skin and nibbling at pleasure points you didn't even know existed. You've never had someone slip their tongue inside of you and work your clit with their fingers until you scream. You've never come simply from oral sex. And you've never screamed any man's name before.
But when you came around his tongue, his name falling from your lips in small gasps and moans, you realise that it's the first time a name has rolled off your tongue during climax. But he doesn't know that, but if he knew that this was the first time you gasped a mans name while your brain was lost in the depths of an orgasm, your love and adoration for him would be clear, and that's something you're still trying to come to terms with.
He hovers over you and lays soft, open mouth kisses along your throat, and asks where you keep the condoms. You tell him to not worry about it because you know you're the first woman he's slept with since the shooting and even if you weren't you really wouldn't mind because this is Eric and you don't want anything between the two of you.
But there's something you want to do first before he's inside you, something you've been wanting to do for a long time. So when you tell him to lay on his back, and you kiss your way down his abdomen, he tells you you don't have to do that and of course he does because this is Eric and whether in bed or at work of within your decade long friendship, he's always put your needs before his, always made sure you're comfortable.
But you lay a gentle kiss atop the head, and you feel his cock twitch. You run your hand loosely over his shaft, and you tell him that this is something you've wanted to do for years, that you've wanted to taste him for years, and when you take the head into your mouth and swirl your tongue around him, his head falls back against the sheets and you feel him lace his fingers with yours while your name falls off his lips in a long groan. And you wonder if this is the first time he's ever moaned a womans name.
You tell him he tastes good and he tells you to please stop talking, because it'll be over too soon, and he wants to come inside you. And you've had men tell you that before, you've had men be kind enough to come inside you instead of leaving a mess all over your fingers and lips. And with him, you know that's part of the reason, but the other part is that he wants to be as close to you as possible, that he wants to come with you while your fingers are laced and his tongue traces the shell of your ear. He wants to bury himself inside your warmth with long, slow thrusts that make your toes curl and leave ruby red scratches down his back. He wants to suck on your neck and kneed your breast, so when he tells you to stop you listen, falling on your back while he hovers over you, looking in your eyes and you feel a new level of nudity that goes far beyond being skin on skin.
He tells you you're beautiful, and before you can respond his lips are on yours, warm and languid, his tongue teasing you. One hand moves to tangle in your hair, and the other moves to your breast, his index finger and thumb rolling over you and you moan his name again but don't recognize the voice because it isn't your normal "just sex" bedroom voice. And when you grind your hips against his, your name rolls off his tongue, and he doesn't recognize his voice either, because it isn't his normal "just sex" bedroom voice. But neither of you know that of each other.
When you rest your head in the crook of his neck and mumble please, he enters you and you finally feel whole.
His skin is hot like fire and you dig your nails into his back when he moves his lips to your breast and continues giving you long, slow thrusts. But you can feel that it's hard for him to hold out, hard for him to keep from speeding up and coming too soon. But you're close too so you score your nails down his spine and dig them into his bottom, telling him to let go, that you're almost there. And of course he asks if you're sure because this is Eric and for once he's the only man that really put your needs before his own. You tell him yes you're sure and his thrusts begin to pick up in intensity and your moans are louder and and he starts to thrust faster and harder and it's his name leaving your lips and you're too far gone to think about the spark you've ignited and the fire that burns between the two of you that's been waiting to blaze for years. When his fingers find their way between your legs and start rubbing over you all the negative repercussions you've thought of about how this could end badly don't matter because your belly starts to twist with pleasure and you realize that those were all just excuses you've been telling yourself for years and you're fucking tired of denying that you love him.
Your walls begin to clench and you pull his lips to yours, your legs wrapped around his hips and you come harder than you ever remember coming before. Your body shudders and your legs are tingling and he's half collapsed on you, spilling himself inside you, his forearms shaking and his lips only leaving yours to gasp for air.
It's quiet for a moment, you're both trying to remember how to breathe and he somehow remembers how to move but when he shifts to pull out of you you dig your nails into his bottom and ask him to stay. And again you're cloaked with comfortable silence, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your chests rising and falling together. Time passes and you let him pull out and immediately cling to his side to make up for the lost warmth and you can't ever remember feeling the need to be held by a man before, but any embarrassment you have quickly resigns when he pulls you into his arms, one strong around your waist the other laced with your hand as you lay your head on his chest. He kisses your forehead, and rests his face in your hair, his eyes closed while he breathes you in. You smell like sage and sex and you pull him close while he leaves soft kisses in your hair.
"Fuck Cal," he murmurs, his eyes closed while he pulls you closer.
You smile against his chest and leave a tender kiss on warm skin, "We've always been good together."
He wants to tell you that he loves you, wants to tell you that you mean the world to him and that he'd do anything for you. But he knows you know that, knows you have since you read his file, but still, reading something is one thing, hearing it from him, hearing his voice and the sensitive way he articulates his love for you, is entirely different. And it's scary, because it makes this real, and you know you love him, you've always loved him, but you're scared and he knows that. He knows how badly you've been hurt. And even though you know he wouldn't hurt you, he respects your need for time, your need to process. And that makes you fall ten times harder, head over heels, and you're tired of dancing around the fact that you love this man with every ounce of the air you breathe and every liter of the blood that pumps through your veins.
You're tired of pretending, tired of dancing around your feelings that have been manifesting for years. So you make a jump, decide to tell him something you never thought you would, and it's not I love you but it's so so so much more.
"You're the first name I've ever said during sex."
And now your hearts pounding because it came out kind of awkward and you leaped and you know he'll catch you at some point but now he's hesitating and you're falling and falling and falling, about to hit shattered glass of rejection when he captures your lips with his and kisses you with such intensity that you swear you've never been kissed like this before, kissed with such passion and understanding and love and sure there's lust too but when he moans your name against your tongue you know that this is so much more than sexual attraction.
And granted, you knew that before, but now, with his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip and his tongue slithering next to yours your heart takes control and you've finally gotten your brain to shut the fuck up because he needs to know how you feel.
And when you tell him you love him, the words falling with such ease against his lips, he doesn't hesitate when he says he loves you too, doesn't ask questions, doesn't push it because he knows how hard it is for you to be open with how you feel, especially since you've gotten your heart broken god knows how many times. And you feel so much relief, like a weight lifted off your shoulders because now there's no secrets and your body's tingling, like you've taken a breath of fresh air because you've finally told him the truth and you feel like you're flying. You lay warm kisses along his chest, and when he asks if you're okay, you tell him that you've never felt so elated and relieved. You tell him that it was so easy, that the words left you and didn't settle uncomfortably between the two of you. You tell him you were afraid that it'd feel incongruous, out of place.
And he smiles, tells you that it shows how important your relationship is to you, that you'd rather drown your feelings than risk losing him. And he's 100% correct, so you tell him again.
"I love you." And again and again because it falls so easily from your lips and you feel him chuckles and kiss your forehead. You feel his chest vibrate when he repeats the words back to you and his voice is laced with sheer adulation and warmth and this is new to you, being so open, but in his arms you feel safe. And you could build all the walls up around you, have all the guns you could possibly own and you still wouldn't feel as protected as you do right now, in this moment, with your head on his chest, his arms holding you close and your fingers intertwined like the web of a spider and you know that spider silk has more strength than steel and the strong foundation of years of friendship have only proven to secure this new level your relationship is on.
So you tell him again, that you love him, and when the words leave you and he says he loves you too you finally feel-
Complete.