It had been way too long.
My hands were all over him, feeling his body. Feeling new scars. Feeling pulsing muscles. Hands grasping and pulling him closer. Hands at the base of his neck. Hands grabbing at soft hair. Hands rubbing. Hands holding.
The tattoo was new, I liked it.
We were both barely getting breaths in between each long deep kiss.
"I missed you," he breathed in my ear, kissing me down my neck.
"I can tell," I breathed back, loving the taste of his lips.
It was like starving when he was gone. I felt empty like I needed a good stick-to-your-ribs meal. But nothing would fill me up. And then when he was back I could barely get enough.
He backed me up against the wall, fingers trailing against the seam of my underwear. "Are these new?" He teased flirtatiously between a few hard kisses.
"Just for you," I taunted.
"Good, then you won't mind if I take them off, just for you."
They were on the floor in seconds.
Then we were on the floor.
Then we moved to the bed.
Back to the wall.
After all was said and done we laid there panting, curled so close together that I could hear every beat of his heart.
The blissful feeling of having him next to me made me sigh in relief and I could breathe fully for the first time in months.
When he was away I was always holding my breath, dreading any phone call that might come, saying he wasn't coming back.
But when he was here, everything was fine, and I could be at ease.
I just wished it lasted longer.
