He just stood there looking at her for a while. The lights of the tree were on, casting a soft joyous glow. He didn't turn on the lights to the room for fear of waking her.
How sweet she looked, cuddled up under the tree and nestled up among the presents like that, it was beyond description. Sweet, innocent, pure...and damn, at the same time the sexiest thing he had ever seen.
He watched her softly breathing, and gazed at her hair, fanned out over the pillow. God, he loved her hair.
Like so many times before, he was overcome with the desire to touch it, to touch her. . No, overwhelmed would be a better word. He was powerless to fight it.
He tiptoed up to her and knelt beside her. He listened to her soft breathing. He looked at the long lashes of her closed eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous cloud around her head and over the pillow, , framing the perfect features of her face. Her hair so glossy and soft...he could feel it before he even touched it. His hands yearned to reach out and confirm what his memory told him it felt like against his skin, yet he held back, both wishing not to wake her, and also to savor the moment. To deny himself the actual touch he yearned for so strongly, knowing that prolonging the yearning would intensify the actual sensation when he gave in. It was almost like a physical need.
He smiled to himself. It WAS a physical need.
She made him need her like no one ever had before. And she didn't even have to try. He just wanted her. All the time. When he was with her. When he was away from her. He wanted her always...in every way... wanted to touch her hair and the skin of her face or the perfect form of her breast, he wanted to feel the heat from her body and the pulse of her heart against his chest, or beneath his hands, or against his cheek as he lay with his head on her chest. Listening to and feeling her heartbeat, and still having to convince himself that her heart beat for him...that she was his. She made him so happy just standing beside him. He loved the way her hair waved in the breeze, or when she ran her fingers through it to give it an unconscious flick away from her face. He loved the way it flowed down her face and over her shoulders. He loved how the water coursed through it when it was wet from the rain or a shower...
He loved to watch her walk, loved to listen to her talk, he loved her laugh and he loved her whispers, and he loved her moans...
As he pondered all this, while fighting not to touch her, and wanting to so much, and yeah...he realized what it was...it manifested itself at times as physical desire or need, but what it was was love. He loved her. God, he loved her so.
He gave a shuddering sigh as he gave in to his need to touch her hair. He trailed a strand through his fingers, and yes, it was as soft and silky as he had imagined.
He lay down on the floor, stretching out beside her. He cradled his head on his arm, gazing into her sleeping face, and with his other hand he continued to gently gather tresses of her hair and trail them through his fingers.
She stirred slightly and smiled in her sleep. His heart melted.
He trailed her hair through his fingers again, then lay his hand on her arm. . The smile remained and she gave a soft moan. His heart raced.
He cupped her face with his hand, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. She stirred and gave a little moan again, and then her eyes fluttered open. His heart thundered.
Oh my...her eyes...so beautiful...
Her eyes fluttered, there was a moment of confusion, then they focused on him, and her smile gently widened.
"I was dreaming of you" she whispered softly. His heart wanted to explode.
He couldn't speak. He could only look upon her with love and longing strangling his voice.
She lay there unmoving, and just smiled back at him, taking in his features. Then she recognized the desire darkening his eyes, her own heart quickened and her own eyes darkened in response...
He always made her want him, he didn't even have to try...
She always wanted to give herself to him...
She whipered his name...he whispered hers, and there under the soft festive glow of the tree, amongst the presents, they drew to each other, and each gave of themselves, and recieved from the other, a gentle, heartfelt, loving, and passionate gift. One that would be remembered by both as the best gift either ever had under a Christmas tree.