A/N WOW! Thank you for the amazing amazing reviews! So glad you liked the last chapter. My story isn't far from the end ... but it's been so much fun xxxx
I find it difficult to write intimate scenes (read smut). So here are some carefully chosen words that I hope convey exactly how I think it should go down, if that isn't some terribly crude pun ;-)
An immediate continuation from the last chapter.
***** Rating change – final warning *****
"What are we doing?" She says as she pushes herself from the door.
"You know exactly what this is." He responds, his tone slightly baiting.
"I think I know, some days I feel certain. But do you?" She pauses before continuing, "Please don't do this to me if you don't mean it. I won't survive you." She says, too afraid of rejection to meet his eyes.
"I have meant everything I have ever said to you. Every word. Don't doubt me. You won't have to survive me, I have no desire to be anywhere else except here with you." He says with an intensity to his voice she's never heard.
The whole time he has been speaking he's moved progressively towards her. By the time he utters the last syllable their lips are almost touching, their eyes locked as if in battle. She is silently pleading for this to be true, for him to kiss her so she can believe in his actions what she is just starting to believe in his words.
As their lips meet, both close their eyes. He kisses her tenderly and tentatively this time. His lips gently part hers and she feels the warmth of his mouth as it meets hers. He lifts his hand to her head, letting his fingers slip into her hair.
She notices things this time, things she'd missed in the severity of their first kiss; the softness of his lips, how assured his movements are. The heat radiating from him and the small sensual groan he makes when she leans her body against his.
This time when he stops kissing her it's slowly, he's moved his mouth to her neck, lingering there before finally just basking in her heat. She slides her arms from around him but continues to touch the front of his vest. She can't think about anything else, not what might happen in the next five minutes and not what might happen in the next 5 days. She just exists with him in that perfect, certain moment in time.
He leans back and looks at her directly, his eyes filled with raw emotion, "you must be certain Lizzie, necessity may have taught me to conceal it more effectively but I can assure you that my desire is as all consuming as yours".
"Red" she chokes out, her voice filled with relief and emotion. The fog starts to clear and her thoughts begin to have some clarity. She knows what she wants to say but she doesn't know if she dares. Her eyes sparkle with it, with the words that have been unspoken since the moment of his return.
He continues to watch her, but old habits die hard and instead of listening to words he reads from her eyes, her expression and her body what it is she's desperately trying to say. Finally when he's convinced he lifts his hands to frame her face, "I love you" he whispers as tears start to spill from her eyes.
She takes an unsteady breathe, shocked, but she doesn't hesitate further, doesn't wait a beat longer before responding, "I love you too".
He lightly brushes away the tears she has shed, and then he kisses her again. This time she feels the joy in it and returns the feeling with equal fervour. He has his arms around her and lifts her from the ground; she takes it as a signal and wraps her legs around his waist.
It is exactly what he wanted, not wanting to break contact so he can lead her upstairs. He carries her with him, holding her tightly in one arm using the other against the wall to maintain their balance.
Once beside the bed she unwraps her legs, while he lowers her to the ground; the whole time he continues to kiss her, his tongue caressing hers, then the thrill as he gently bites and pulls at her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth.
She is lost to him, having never experienced this level of attention in any previous sexual encounters. She tries to stop herself but she can't help but think back to the last time she was with Tom. She thinks how he'd only pretended to want her, how she hasn't ever know genuine desire or what it is to really make love; to make love with someone who loves you back. It makes her stiffen slightly and of course he misses none of it.
He doesn't immediately stop, but he slows, making his movements more tender. Then he wraps his arms around her, holding her close and tilting his head till his cheek rests on her hair.
"We don't need to do this tonight Lizzie, there is no rush." He breathes out trying to calm his mind, his body.
She can't think how to explain herself, she certainly doesn't want to ruin the moment but she also knows she owes him the truth. "I'm nervous I guess." She says then stops. She thinks how best to describe her feelings, how to explain and not mention Tom. "I'm worried I won't be enough, or it won't be right" she says. She knows she's not explaining it well but she's giving him an insight into how she feels.
"Lizzie, you know how I feel. Whatever you choose to give me, however much, I promise you it will be enough, not just tonight but always." he says as his hand tilts her chin up to look at him. She's so filled with gratitude she feels tears welling up again, but she doesn't want him to see so she closes her eyes and leans in to kiss him. He kisses her back, the desire back in his touch. She waits till he stops to look at her, then with her lips swollen and red, her voice soft and sultry she says, "I want this".
He smiles a smile she's only seen once before, though her memory is hazy she remembers how he looked the night (or early morning) he returned to the Post Office. She saw him smile that smile after she hugged him. She thinks that if this is love then maybe it's possible he's loved her since then. It fills her with a confidence that the memories of Tom had stolen.
She reaches for his vest and while he continues to kiss her she undoes the buttons, she runs her hands up his body, pushing it off his shoulders. She thinks unless he goes around in the night, picking it all up, that in the morning her floor will be littered with his clothing, a sure sign of their activities.
He reaches for her shirt, undoing the buttons slowly, wanting to savour every moment of their first time together. When it's opened he steps back a fraction, she watches him with dark eyes as he places a hand on her stomach before slowly moving it around her body, pushing back her shirt and exposing her breast, she hears him breathe in deeply, his eyes lingering on her. He's seen her in her bra before but this is different.
He turns and sits on the side of the bed, using his hand to pull her round and close to him. He looks up at her as if asking permission, she's feels her heart constrict, he is being so delicate, so romantic that all she can do is nod.
He lowers his head, his mouth meeting her breast just above the cup of her bra. He kisses her there while his hands move around her body and up the smooth skin of her back. She decides to take the lead a little, removing her shirt entirely and reaching for the hooks holding her bra in place. She undoes it but moves her hands to hold the front, not yet ready to be that exposed.
He stands again, meeting her eyes, touching her lips with his fingers, "Lizzie" he says, and it sounds like a prayer, a whispered entreaty. She lets the bra go, reaching up to touch his face. She kisses him again, while he lifts her and gently places her on the bed. He lays himself on her, supporting some of his weight on his left arm.
As he kisses her he moves his hand up her body, finally touching the flesh of her breast, his thumb running over her nipple. She groans into his mouth and as he chuckles she bites his lip, this elicits a groan from him and she smiles as he deepens the kiss.
She's consumed by him, her prior experience far from the satisfying experiences of sexually liberated 30 something New Yorkers or popular explicit novels. Life isn't TV; life isn't a BDSM utopia; for her it's been mostly a frustrating disappointment of unsated desire.
Yet, as he touches her; removes the rest of their clothing, as he kisses and caresses her, she feels aroused beyond anything she's ever known. She thought the fault was hers before, but now she's learning what it's like to be wanted.
He lifts his hand to her neck; uses his thumb to push her chin up, exposing her throat; gently biting at the sensitive veins and nerves buried under the skin. While he continues to tease her he growls, "to think I could have lost you... lost this." He breathes against her skin. Then she feels and hears him say, "never again".
He moves gently down her body, nipping her with his mouth, licking and kissing her all the way. By the time he reaches her stomach she's almost lost. Intuition tells her what he's about to do but apprehension makes her body move, sending him a signal to cease and desist.
Yet he continues, parting her legs and using his tongue to lap at her. Almost instantly she feels it build, this unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation. He pushes on, using his tongue to stimulate her before enveloping her with his mouth, sucking her until she can't hold on.
As her orgasm takes over she gasps his name; the sound is part moan, part sob and he moves up her body to reassure her, holding her as it continues to consume her.
"Red" she says, when reality starts to return, her voice weak and insecure.
"My love." he says as he kisses her; comforts her, wraps her in his arms.
She grasps at him and he leans against her, letting her feel his reassuring presence.
"Hey" he says, absentmindedly wiping a tear from her cheek.
"Hey" she responds breathlessly, holding back on everything else she wants to say, worried that it's fuelled by her desire, her recently fulfilled desire.
He continues to hold her but she begins to think about his needs. She may never have known such unrestrained attention but she's thinks, despite his bravado, that he's waited just as long to make love like this.
She kisses him deeply, feeling the rumble of desire in his chest long before he groans. She wants to reciprocate his attention but waits for a signal from him, wondering if he wants her mouth or just to be inside her. Slowly he moves his body over hers, she knows now he's not hoping for anything else.
When he settles his body over hers he pauses, again seeking permission. In their eyes they try to convey a million thoughts; sought after and granted permission, admittance of their shared abstention, recognition of their shared desire, acknowledgement that they are not using protection and what that means. What they each see in response in unmistakable certainty.
Finally when he's sure she's ready he slowly, deliberately pushes inside her. When she gasps he pauses, taking her hand, intertwining their fingers. She reaches up and kisses him; conferring her want, her need for him, before he finally pushes the rest of his length inside.
He continues to touch her, kiss her lips, her neck, surrounding her nipples with the heat of his mouth; all the while filling her with each thrust.
His continued contact, his unwavering devotion to her pleasure and fulfilling her desire, intensifies each touch, each caress. She grabs at him, grabs the sheets; feeling the same unaccustomed sensations start to build again. This time he can feel it too and he tightens his grip on her, drives further in, wanting his closeness to assure her while he experiences the orgasm alongside her.
When he feels her tighten he feels his own desire build. He continues to move, but when she comes, her hands clutching him, her breathe whispering his name, he is lost.
His continued movement infinitely extends the intensity of the experience for her, and when she feels him move within her, his own desire finally appeased she enjoys the feeling as much as her own.