1She loved it when he'd work late on a case. She'd ring his cell, leave a soft "good night luv" on his voicemail, snuggle down between her sheets and wait. She had taken to going to bed in the nude. Sometimes she'd fall asleep waiting for him; she loved waking up with him next to her.
Until they started sleeping together she had considered herself a light sleeper. Yet he could enter her house, and her bed, without waking her. A rather amazing ability considering his distinctive, awkward gait. He was full of amazing abilities, not the least of which he demonstrated almost nightly now in her bedroom.
She would wake to his touch, strong and soft, a warm hand sliding along her ribcage around to her stomach as he drew her closer to the lean length of his body. He was always warm, breath and skin. His skin, soft and supple- who would have suspected that the man with the steel wool exterior bore the flesh of a newborn child? His hand would pause atop her belly, he would nuzzle her neck and ear. He knew how to please her now, and he would take his pleasure with her leisurely and unrestrained. She would roll onto her back, allowing him the freedom he prized above all others.
He would kiss her, then. Softly, gently pressing his lips to hers, letting his tongue caress them, seeking but not demanding entrance. Sometimes she'd surrender quickly, usually she would let him lick and suck them until she could stand it no longer and finally part them, inviting his tongue into her mouth with a small flick of her own. His tongue knew her mouth, knew the fillings and the small chip on the molar. His tongue felt almost as at home in her mouth as it did in his own.
His hand, no longer content where it lay on her belly, would begin its inevitable journey upwards, through the valley of her breasts. The fingers would climb the fleshy mounds, first the left, massaging and caressing, and then trail along to the right. His hand would be replaced by his lips on the left, and he would suckle the nipple until it hardened and she moaned. Alternating between them he would suck and nuzzle for some time, and she would run her hands over his head, and her fingers through his soft curls, much in the manner of a mother nursing a child. Her man-child, who would be content to stay like this forever; who had once told her that he would like to die in that very spot, and be buried in the valley in between.
While he was aware of the effect his attention to her breasts was having on her, she too was aware of the effect it was having on him. She would let her hand slowly drop down between them and gently curl her fingers around his erection. She remembers thinking, their first time together, that his was an organ that actually merited the word. She could barely get her fingers around the thick shaft, and she had told him before their first time that he would ruin her for other men. He had just looked into her eyes and nodded, and told her that it was fine with him, after him she wouldn't want to be with anyone else. He had been very right about that too. She would stroke him slowly, and his mouth would pause at her breast as he took in air around the nipple. The sensation of cool air on her hot flesh was overwhelming, causing her to squirm a little and open her legs. It was all he needed.
Never relinquishing her lovely breast, his hand moved between her legs and with his fingers he parted the delicate folds. She was more than ready for him, he'd slide two fingers inside her easily. Feeling her clamp down on his hand he would slide them in and out, in rhythm with her strokes on him. They were both breathing heavily now, and his mouth would move at last from her incredibly swollen nipples back to her swollen lips. The kiss was passionate and urgent, and she'd release him from her grasp and bury her hands in his hair. He would remove his fingers, and quickly position himself between her thighs, the tip of him resting just at the entrance. He would lie there and wait, and sure enough she would lift herself off the sheet and press herself against him, letting him know that she was ready, waiting, wanting.
Sometimes he would tease her, nuzzle her ear or move back to her breasts, but more often he was ready too, and would slowly bury himself deeply within her. He always gave her time to stretch, although it didn't take as long as it had at first. She'd thrust her hips up at him and he'd give himself over to her, matching her tempo with his, a sensual duet of the flesh. He would whisper to her to say his name, he loved the sound of it from her seductive lips. He had remarkable control and would watch her face, enjoying the pure firelight of satisfaction that danced in her eyes. He would bring her to orgasm again and again before finally giving in and let himself go. That moment was always bittersweet for him, the sensation was tremendous but he knew it was fleeting. He was buoyed by the notion that it wouldn't be their last time as he'd roll off her and she would roll back onto her side, wipe the sweat from his brow and whisper how good he'd been into his ear.
He would lift his damaged leg over hers, pulling her to him once again. He was no longer afraid to close his eyes and sleep. She would be there when he woke. She was here, now, and they were together. He would brush the hair from her ear, and whisper into it before he drifted off. "Goodnight, Lisa-love".
It would be all she needed to hear, now and forever.