She wakes up feeling blissful and it takes her a moment to realise why, but as she returns to consciousness, her happiness begins to fade somewhat into a feeling of acute embarrassment as she realises that she's practically squashing Harry. First she becomes aware of her face nestled in his neck, her lips mere millimetres from his soft, warm skin, so that all she has to do is pucker up or stick her tongue out just a little and she'll be tasting him, exploring him, savouring him. He's so tantalisingly close that she almost gives in to her desire before she's distracted by the smell of him, his very masculine, Harry scent flooding her nostrils as she inhales, almost overpowering her and making her insides melt and churn with want in seconds even as she tries to tell herself that she should probably pull back right about now. 'Surely it's too soon, isn't it?' she thinks briefly before she shelves the thought for a little longer as her awareness moves lower to her upper body which is draped across his, her left shoulder resting over his heart, her breast pressed snugly into the seam between his chest and arm, her arm looped round him, her fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck which are begging to be stroked, twisted and tugged. Her fingers begin to flex involuntarily as the thought crosses her mind, but luckily, or perhaps not so luckily, she's distracted by a slight movement against her hip and her attention moves lower to his hardness trapped between their bodies. The realisation that he wants her as much as she does him almost has her self-control in tatters, but she manages to cling to it and shift her attention away from his arousal to her legs, that are wrapped around his left one, and his thigh pressing firmly against her heat.
His hand moves a fraction against her lower back where it's resting, his palm pressing against her skin under her camisole, his fingers spread wide as if he's trying to reach as much of her as possible without disturbing her sleep and it suddenly dawns on her that he's awake, and though clearly extremely aroused by her proximity, he's being very sweet about it and letting her sleep despite how uncomfortable he must be. She wonders how long he's been awake as suddenly all embarrassment is gone, and she thinks, 'to hell with it.' She's known Harry for far longer than any other man she's ever dated and has been in love with him for years, so this can hardly be called rushing into things by any stretch of the imagination. For a moment, she struggles to decide what she wants to do first, kiss him, stroke him or grind against him, until she realises that she doesn't have to choose, and with a moan of deep desire, she does all three. Her fingers curl into his hair, her lips pressing against his neck, sucking and licking his soft skin alternately as she pushes her pelvis forward, grinding herself against his thigh and pushing her hip against his hardness.
She hears him gasp and then groan from somewhere deep in his chest, the vibrations travelling through her, exciting her even more as her insides clench with want. "Harry," she breathes, shifting her weight further onto him until her left thigh is across his lower abdomen, his erection pressing against her entrance through three layers of material and yet still almost scorching her with its heat. She pushes down towards him, the intensity of her need for him making her moan loudly and her muscles tighten with desire.
She lifts her head then to look at him, dimly wondering why he's not responding as enthusiastically as she'd expect any man to do under the circumstances. His eyes are closed, his brow furrowed in concentration, his facial muscles tense as he struggles for control. "Harry?" she whispers and watches as his eyes slide open and focus on her, and they're almost black with lust, his irises mere slivers of dark hazel. "You said, all I even had to do was ask," she murmurs, just to make sure that there's no ambiguity left about what it is she wants, knowing that it's probably his damned sense of honour that's holding him back because he hasn't really been participating in any of this so far. "I'm asking now, Harry. I want to feel your hands on me, I want your lips on mine, and I want this," she whispers as she reaches her hand down over her left thigh and slides a finger up his hardness, making him gasp, "inside me. Make love to me, Harry." He opens his mouth to say something and she knows instinctively what it's going to be. "I'm sure," she whispers.
"Ruth," he groans her name with such longing as to leave her aching for him, but before she has a chance to do or feel anything more, his right hand slips into her hair and he pulls her head down to kiss her, his self-control obliterated as the passion inside him is unleashed and she's caught up in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion that robs her of all reason. She clutches at his shoulders as he draws her firmly against him, his hardness still pressing against her entrance, making her centre spasm in anticipation and her juices flow in need, his tongue seeking access to her mouth, slipping across her lips and coaxing them open. She moans as she opens her mouth and lets him in, her tongue moving forward to tangle with his in welcome, her fingers slipping into his hair as her right hand slides down his side over his vest, seeking access to his warm, flushed skin. His hands have got the same idea and are already under her camisole, his nails raking over her back, one hand slipping to her side, his thumb reaching round to caress her breast, his other hand sliding under the waistband of her pyjamas and knickers, kneading her left buttock a few times before his fingers move round to caress her wet folds.
She moans deeply at the sensation of them sliding across her sex, and almost without realising what she's doing, she presses herself towards them, and as his middle finger slips into her tender heat, she has to release his lips with a gasp of deep pleasure. He growls then, an animal sound that has her hair rising up in goosebumps all over her body and her insides clenching tightly, and next moment, he's flipped her onto her back and is leaning over her and sliding his finger ever so slowly into her deepest part, his lust filled eyes devouring her as she arches her back, needing more, her fingers and toes curling into the sheets and his shoulders as she pants his name.
She feels him pull his finger out then and whimpers in disappointment before she feels his hands grab hold of her pyjamas and underwear, and he pulls them off, sitting up between her legs and pulling the covers with him, the cool air of the room swirling around her hot sex, adding fuel to the fire inside her. "My God, Ruth, you're so beautiful," she hears him say in a hoarse whisper, and when she opens her eyes to look at him, there is so much emotion in his gaze that it almost brings tears to her eyes. Her heart is still thundering in her chest, but the urgency that was in her a moment ago is gone and a sense of wonder has replaced it, so that everything about this moment is heightened in her awareness. She watches him as he slowly lifts his hands to her knees, pausing for a moment before he allows them to glide down her thighs, his thumbs brushing across her inner, sensitive flesh until they tuck into the seam where her legs meet her body, gently brushing the edges of her pubic hair. He pauses here for a moment before he lifts his thumbs and strokes around her sex softly in an arc, making her whimper and long for more. He sighs then and leans forwards, bathing her in his hot breath before his lips and tongue find her heat and she's lost in a world of colours and sensations hitherto unknown to her. He sucks and licks and nips and strokes her until she comes with an intense cry of pleasure as a feeling unlike any she's ever known before rocks her body from her core out to every single cell and back again.
When she's recovered enough to move, she opens her eyes and finds him watching her, his gaze warm and softened by love. "I've wanted to do that for years, Ruth," he murmurs softly, leaning over her, pressing his soft belly against hers as he supports his weight on his elbows and cups her cheeks with his hands. He scans her face intently before meeting her gaze once more and murmuring urgently, "Years, Ruth. What the hell took us so long?"
It's a rhetorical question, she knows and yet she can feel his frustration and see the sadness in his eyes that flickers there for just a moment. "Priorities, Harry," she smiles, wishing to dispel the hurt she sees in his gaze. "We had our priorities all wrong, but we're older now and, hopefully, wiser so we can make sure that we shift them around a little so that this... us is at the top of our list."
"Yes," he murmurs, giving her a warm smile and soft kiss. "Yes, my wise, brilliant Ruth."
"And," she adds with a mischievous grin, "if we do that, Harry, hopefully we'll still be enjoying this for many years to come." She lifts her head and kisses his lips softly before pulling back and stressing, "Years, Harry."
The passionate kiss he gives her following her words, renders her incapable of clear thought, let alone speech. Dimly she realises that he's not actually wearing anything any more, and for a split second, she wonders when he'd stripped before all thought dissolves again in the face of his new assault on her senses. Her hands glide over his back, delighting in feeling his warm, smooth skin for the first time, slipping all the way down to his bum and squeezing it tightly, pulling his pelvis against her and feeling his hard length dig into her hip. He releases her lips with a deep groan of desire and rolls off her onto his side, pulling her camisole up, the last remaining garment between them.
She sits up to pull it over her head, and even before she's managed to lower her arms again, his mouth has closed around one nipple, his hand cupping and kneading her other breast. The sensation is exquisite and has her leaning back, thrusting her chest towards him as her hands connect with the bed and her head rolls back. "Oh, God, Harry," she sighs, the heat of his mouth and the firm strokes of his tongue sending waves of desire pulsing through her straight to her centre until she cannot stand it any more and she has to feel him inside her. "Now, Harry. Please," she begs, pulling him towards her with her hands on his shoulders as she falls backwards onto the bed. "I need you now."
He kisses her soundly as he positions himself between her legs, pushing gently into her, joining their bodies for the first time. He feels exquisite, so wonderful and firm and perfect, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle, and she can't help feeling like she's finally found what's been missing in her life; she's finally found her home.
She opens her eyes and finds him watching her, his dark hazel eyes hard, intense, hungry, and yet paradoxically, soft and loving at the same time, and in that moment, she can see all that she loves about him reflected in his gaze. "I love you, Harry," she whispers. "I love you and I'm never going to let you go again."
He smiles softly and pushes deeply into her again, dropping his forearms onto the bed on either side of her head, his soft belly pressing against hers and his fingers threading through her hair as she moans softly and her eyes slide shut at the intensity of the sensations cascading through her. "Then marry me, Ruth," he growls into her ear as he moves inside her. "Marry me so I can protect you next time and no one can come between us; marry me so we can come home to each other every night; marry me so I can love you freely, like this, always. Marry me, Ruth."
She tilts her hips to meet him again and moans softly at the pleasure coursing through her, feeling her heart swell at his words and beat even faster, hammering out an answer against her ribcage in Morse code of a language of its own. His mouth closes round her earlobe, making her gasp as the energy inside her builds to a crescendo, and with a cry of ecstasy, she topples over the edge and into oblivion, shattering into a million, glittering pieces.
When she comes back to herself, she finds him lying on top of her, his body delightfully heavy and solid against her, so she slips her arms round him and begins to caress his back, running her palm and fingers over his smooth, damp skin and humming in contentment. "God, Harry. Why did you never tell me you were so good at that? That was the best sex I've ever had," she sighs and presses her lips against his cheek. "Thank you."
"Mmmm," he hums deep in his throat making his whole chest vibrate. "That's because we didn't just have sex, Ruth; we made love," he mumbles, almost slurring his words in his state of exhausted bliss.
She smiles and presses her lips against his shoulder, sighing, "You still could have told me. I never knew it could be this good."
"Neither did I, Ruth," he murmurs. "Neither did I."
"Are you saying that was the best sex you've ever had too?" she asks in surprise, stilling her hands on their journey across his back. He shifts his weight off her then, rolling onto his back beside her and she follows him over, lifting herself onto her right elbow to look down at him.
"Mmmm," he hums, opening his eyes for a moment to look at her, the love she sees shining in them taking her breath away. "What do you think?"
"I don't know," she stammers. "I'm not a very experienced lover, Harry, and I know you've had-"
His finger presses against her lips gently, forcing her to fall silent. "Ruth, you're not listening. All that's irrelevant. I've never loved anyone like I do you... with my entire being. Had I come without you even touching me once, I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more than any sexual encounter in my entire life. As it is, you were amazing and we were spectacular together because we made love. And I know that every time with you will be just as wonderful." He smiles and closes his eyes, mumbling, "Now let me sleep, woman, so I can recover and we can do it all over again."
She laughs softly and lowers her head to his shoulder, feeling his arms tighten around her, drawing her close as she sighs in utter bliss and closes her eyes, and just as she's about to drop off, she hears him add softly, "I believe I may have asked you something important in the heat of the moment just now, Ruth, and I wanted to make it perfectly clear that it doesn't matter if your answer is the same as it was two days ago... If I keep asking for long enough, one day my timing will be perfect and you'll say yes. After all, you've already promised to never let me go." She grins at that and turns her head, pressing a kiss against his chest right over his heart and sighing in contentment as she settles back against his shoulder, falling asleep with a smile on her lips for the second time today, and the first time in many, many years.