A/N: Neal still has a few of his moments, but, needless to say, the entire last section of this chapter is filled with love. I don't think it's all that graphic, but I thought it was necessary to write it in length. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Neal woke up to Peter stroking his hair gently. He liked how it felt even if it made him feel like Peter's pet. Knowing that Peter's fingers were carding through his hair made him feel loved and Peter did confess that he loved touching Neal's hair, that he loves Neal's hair in general. "Good morning," Peter whispered, knowing Neal was awake when he saw Neal smile a little. He loved being able to wake Neal up like this. It was better than the alternative… Stroking Neal's hair, kissing him, or any other loving gesture was worthwhile even if it woke him out of his sleep. Peter wanted to do everything he could to make Neal feel loved and appreciated.
It was also the day of their anniversary—of the initiation of their relationship as well as the sealing of it through marriage.
"Good morning," Neal murmured, rubbing Peter's abdomen. He opened his eyes enough to see Peter and smiled up at him. His heart pounded because Peter had been smiling at him before he'd opened his eyes to see it. "You sleep okay?"
Peter leaned forward and kissed Neal's hair, whispering, "I always sleep wonderfully when I have you in my arms." Knowing that he was going to attempt to make love to Neal tonight… All he wanted right now was to kiss him until he was breathless and make love to him until he couldn't remember his own name. Neal's been that way a few times in the past and it made him chuckle sometimes, but he likes having the ability to make his husband lose his senses when they're together. It hadn't been that passionate in quite some time, but he blamed himself for that. He'd caused problems between them and then he'd allowed Neal to be kidnapped by a sadistic bitch. Tonight was going to be different.
The older man was startled when Neal lifted his hand and stroked Peter's forehead. He gave Neal a look of question. "Getting rid of the not-so-positive thinking," he muttered. "You have these lines that form when you furrow your eyebrows. Every time you do it when I'm not confusing you, I know something's wrong."
"Mm," Peter murmured. "Well, I'll push those thoughts aside, my perceptive sweetheart." Bastard. He hated that he was so obvious. The last thing he wanted to do was influence Neal's thoughts and feelings in that way. Putting himself down for failing Neal was bad enough; he didn't want Neal hurting himself to make up for Peter's anguish.
Neal looked a little sad as he said, "This is our vacation like you keep telling me. It's no excuse, but I honestly can't help getting a little down when memories come surging back to the surface the way they have been." He leaned forward and kissed Peter's nose, whispering, "I don't want you to be upset. You have an amazing smile."
It took everything in Peter to not roll over and pin Neal down onto the bed beneath him. They'd both been looking forward to today—tonight, really—and neither of them wanted to put a damper on things. Peter grinned at his husband, caressing the younger man's cheek gently before proceeding to kiss him passionately. "You're so sweet," he whispered against Neal's lips when they finally parted. "I'm glad you're mine." The way he said that word made Neal shiver with eagerness and anticipation.
"Only yours," Neal whispered, his eyes closed as Peter gently peppered kisses along his jaw. He gasped quietly when Peter trailed his kisses up to a sensitive spot behind his ear. It sent all of these wonderful feelings through him and he wondered for a brief moment if Peter knew about that spot in particular because he kept kissing it, even allowing his tongue to slip out from between his lips to gently touch Neal's skin for a moment.
Warmth was pooling in Neal's belly and he knew he was going to make a mess of things—figuratively and literally. He was trying to stop it, to push his satisfaction down a bit. Having Peter continuously kiss such a sensitive area while moving to rest his hand on Neal's chest was, unfortunately, enough to please him. It was unfortunate because he came in a rush—right in his pants.
Peter froze when Neal released a tortured cry. He hadn't meant to hurt Neal by kissing him the way he had been and it never hurt him before. Pulling back, he saw how tense Neal's jaw was and how tightly his eyes were shut. "Neal? Neal, honey, open your eyes." He was suddenly afraid that something he'd done brought on memories Neal didn't want to see flash before his eyes. "It's okay. It's okay," he murmured. "You're safe with me."
"Get off," Neal whispered.
The older man immediately removed himself from Neal's body entirely, staring at his face before realizing Neal's chest was heaving. "What's wrong? You can—" Embarrassment flashed across Neal's expression as he sat up and threw the cover back, quickly lurching from the bed to dart into the bathroom. He slammed the door and locked it, leaving Peter speechless in their bed. "What the hell are you so embarrassed about?" Peter whispered to himself, wondering why Neal had run off like that when he was clearly enjoying himself. Then it dawned on him. It'd been a while since they made love, but he immediately remembered that cry Neal let out just a few moments earlier. The only thing that could ever make him sound that way while they were together was his orgasm—even though Peter's name hadn't been mixed into it. He slid out of bed and knocked on the door, telling him, "Neal, don't be embarrassed. It's okay."
Neal was silent even as Peter tried to reassure him, promising that everything was fine and that he hadn't done anything that was worth feeling embarrassed about. He asked Neal to come out and Neal didn't want to. He needed to change his clothes, but he didn't want Peter to see him like this. Swallowing the sliver of pride he had left, he whispered, "Can you get me a change of pants and underwear?"
Peter was rummaging through Neal's suitcase a moment later and then he knocked on the door. "I have them for you."
"Are you going to come in here when I open the door?"
Sighing, Peter said, "I won't if you don't want me to come in." Neal unlocked the door and opened it just enough to put his arm through and Peter gave him the articles of clothing he'd asked for. As promised, he didn't try to get into the bathroom with him. He stood outside the door even as Neal shut it again. He hadn't locked it and Peter could hear him changing his clothing, but not before Neal ran the water for a few moments. If Peter hadn't known what happened already, he would've figured it out then. He waited patiently for his husband until the door finally opened and he came face to face with his husband whose face was completely flushed and whose eyes were downcast. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Neal. I'm sorry that I kept going without realizing what I was doing to you. I'm not upset with you and I'm not going to laugh at you either."
Neal blinked back tears and said, "I didn't mean to come in my pants like a teenage boy."
With a small smile, Peter said, "Don't be embarrassed. I guess I just…overdid it."
"Those were the best feelings my body's ever had," Neal whispered, lifting his eyes to meet Peter's hesitantly. "Well, not that I can remember if there have ever been better feelings…"
That made sense to Peter—complete sense. Neal hadn't been touched or kissed tenderly when he'd been with Rachel or in the brothel. "I'm sorry that I embarrassed you, but there's really no reason to feel bad, honey." He lifted his hands and caressed Neal's cheeks, rubbing his thumbs over Neal's cheekbones. "I'm glad I made you feel good. You just, unfortunately, had too much clothing on."
Neal's face heated up even more and Peter knew he needed to do something because Neal would run or get even more upset. He lowered his hands and wrapped his arms around Neal's torso, kissing his neck once. He didn't want to repeat that experience for Neal unless Neal was undressed. "Peter," he whined before sighing. He gave up on being upset and returned the embrace, thankful to have a husband as understanding as Peter.
"We're going to make our day a good day," Peter whispered. "I'm not going to let anything happen that'll upset you more."
And they lazed around their hotel room for a little while before asking Neal to go out with him for a little while—like a very long date. Neal was more than happy to after his little embarrassment finally passed over him entirely. He wanted to have a nice anniversary with Peter, especially since it's the only one he'll remember unless something else comes from it. He'd love to remember their previous anniversaries, but he knew he would only give himself migraines and a whole boatload of frustration if he kept wishing he could have those memories.
They walked hand-in-hand, enjoying a very smooth walk through the streets of Paris. They could people-watch, look at the sights around them, and talk to each other. "You okay?" Neal asked quietly, looking up at Peter after a few minutes of silence.
Peter squeezed Neal's fingers gently, smiling softly at him. "More than okay. Just enjoying the fact that you're here with me."
The blush that spread across Neal's cheeks made Peter smile broadly. "I know it's probably not wise to ask this on our anniversary, but…do I reallymean this much to you? Like, you really wouldn't know what to do without me?" He highly doubted that he meant that much to anyone. His son, maybe, but he didn't really think he was worth anything to anyone at times.
Neal startled when Peter abruptly stopped and he immediately looked fearful, like he'd overstepped boundaries with what he now thought was a very thoughtless comment. "You mean everything to me. I would never lie to you about your value to me," he whispered fiercely. "Don't you ever tell yourself that you mean nothing. To me, you are the stars, the sun, the moon, and the entire sky all in one." Neal was relieved when Peter shifted to stand in front of him, letting go of Neal's hand to rest his hands on Neal's hips, squeezing them gently. "I've lost you too many times. I can barely function without you."
Sensing the sincerity in his husband's words, Neal simply nodded and whispered, "I'm not leaving you—ever."
Peter gave him a small smile before kissing him sweetly. "Good. I don't think I could bear the thought of you being anywhere else, with anyone else…"
Neal tentatively wrapped his arms around Peter's neck, blinking back tears. "After falling in love with you, there can be no other," he said sincerely. He didn't care that Peter was, technically, his first love. He hadn't loved Rachel nor had she really loved him. Peter showed him love—real love. Peter cares about him, wants to help him, and holds him close even when he doesn't ask to be held. It's almost like Peter knew Neal craved being in Peter's arms. "There's no one else for me," he whispered. "Peter, you're so special. I'm not saying that because I have some kind of hero complex. You've saved me from the brothel and you've repeatedly saved me from myself. You've never hit me when I've spoken my mind with you and you…"
He trailed off when he saw the tears in Peter's eyes. Instantly concerned, he moved his hands to Peter's shoulders, clutching them nervously. He didn't want to upset Peter and he didn't understand what he'd done that made Peter cry. "No one should ever be treated the way you were treated there," Peter said fiercely. "No one should ever go through the things you've gone through." His grip on Neal's hips tightened and Neal remained silent, slightly afraid of Peter. He wasn't sure what to do and he didn't know what Peter was going to do. "When I married you, part of my promise to you was that I would always protect and love you. I will never hit you, Neal. I will never tell you that you're not allowed to speak your mind." The subsequent kiss was just as passionate as his words. "You are the love of my life, my soulmate. If I were to abuse your love for me, I'd be no better than anyone who's ever caused you any kind of pain in the past. I can't give you limitations and restrictions. You're as free as I am—and you always will be, baby."
"Wow," Neal breathed without thinking. He hadn't anticipated such a heated, honest speech from Peter. Blushing furiously, he quickly recovered with, "I trust you, Peter, more than I trust anyone. I told you when you were in the hospital with me that I felt safe with you. I didn't know why then, but I do now." Peter's brows furrowed. He was curious to know why Neal felt safe when he hadn't known who he was at first. "I guess my body and some part of my brain recognized you. Being close to you, hearing your voice, seeing you… I have these warm feelings inside of me. I feel safe with you even though I've been afraid that you'll hurt me sometimes. It's not my way of saying you're an abusive man." He inhaled sharply before saying, "I've learned. You're such an amazing man. I don't know how I got so lucky. Not only did you marry me and treat me like royalty, but you've stuck by my side through everything—even after I lost my memory. You haven't threatened to leave me or stick me in some place to get rid of me. You've kept me in our home, helped me interact with our children and your parents, and you've finally allowed yourself to love me the way you always have because you know I feel the same way about you."
If they weren't out in public, Peter would— Oh, to hell with it. He pulled Neal close, holding him like a lover would, and proceeded to kiss him like they'd kissed a thousand times before. Neal participated eagerly in the kiss, opening his mouth to allow Peter entrance without thinking about it. Peter's tongue met Neal's and danced with it in Neal's warm, wet mouth. Why not French kiss while in France?
Peter tested some waters, tentatively sucking on Neal's tongue. Pressed so closely against Neal, he could feel Neal's reaction against his groin. He was glad Neal was excited. He just didn't want Neal to come in his pants again. Reliving this morning would probably bother the hell out of Neal and Peter wanted to avoid that if possible. He could wait to make Neal come again when they were back in their hotel room—and naked.
As they parted, Neal felt dizzy in his euphoria. He couldn't breathe. Peter left him breathless and wanting more. Peter stared at Neal's face, noting that Neal hadn't breathed in several seconds. "Honey," he said urgently. "Breathe, baby." Neal's eyes widened and then he breathed like Peter asked. Once his breathing evened out, Peter laughed lightly. "Good lord. I didn't realize you'd lose your senses like that." Neal made a small giggling sound that made Peter's heart flutter. "I'll have to be a bit more careful next time," he said softly with a wink before taking Neal's hand in his.
"You've seriously been holding out on me," Neal said breathlessly. "I loved it, but you might actually end up killing me if you kiss me like that a lot." Peter chuckled, shaking his head, squeezing Neal's hand gently. Neal did love that kiss. He wanted Peter to kiss him like that more often.
The last thing he wanted Peter to do with him was be careful.
•◊•
"It's beautiful," Neal said, awed.
Peter's eyes were on Neal's face while they sat in the grass within view of the Eiffel Tower. At night, the Tower would light up every hour on the hour, and Peter had every intention of bringing Neal to see it with him. He just didn't agree with Neal. "You're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," he whispered to his husband. Neal immediately gave Peter his attention and smiled at him appreciatively. Yes, the Eiffel Tower was definitely a beauty, but he felt that it was nothing in comparison to the beauty sitting beside him.
Neal shifted closer to Peter until they both moved around a bit. He was between Peter's legs, leaning back against Peter. He'd really enjoyed the day with Peter because Peter had been so sweet. Lunch had been lunch, but Peter took him to a few waterfalls he'd discovered and they'd gotten a little wet together. Dinner was beautiful—a candlelit dinner in an alley with spaghetti. It was definitely a Lady and the Tramp moment and it meant so much to him. After they'd eaten dinner, they went for another stroll together and walked along the Seine again.
When they'd gotten closer to a few mini amphitheatres, they discovered an area where several couples were dancing. At first, they'd simply observed on steps nearby and Neal watched everyone, awestruck. A French man had, unfortunately, enough nerve to approach Neal while they were people-watching though. He'd taken Neal's hand, kissed his knuckles, and asked for a dance. Had it not been for Neal's eyes in that moment, Peter might've killed the man for attempting to dance with his husband. It was obvious that they were together and the man had deliberately kissed Neal's left hand, so his wedding ring had definitely been in that man's line of sight.
After politely declining to dance with the man, he'd walked off while grumbling something in French under his breath. Peter didn't know a whole lot of French, but he knew the man was cursing him for interfering and he swelled with pride. No one would take his husband from him. Damn them if they tried because Peter would rain holy hell over them.
Needless to say, the man piqued Neal's interest and Neal observed the dancers before them for quite some time before asking Peter to dance with him. Peter hesitated, but he didn't want to deny Neal anything—and he knew how to tango, which is what most if not all of the couples had been dancing. Thank God for Elizabeth. She'd forced him into dancing lessons and they definitely paid off when he'd been asked to dance by Neal. He'd surprised Neal by leading very quickly and with ease, but Neal kept up with him after he'd soaked in every movement the dancers made with their partners. He differentiated the leading partner from the follower and was able to learn from that alone.
"Thank you for tonight—today, actually," Neal whispered to the older man, resting his hands on Peter's arms that were wrapped around him. "It was very beautiful and I'm very happy. I'm very thankful to be married to you."
Peter softly said, "Today isn't over yet."
Neal shivered, anticipation and eagerness surging through him in that moment. He'd almost forgotten what Peter promised him for tonight because he'd been so distracted by Peter's sweet, emotional love. "I don't want today to be over."
The older man tensed for a very brief moment before finally saying, "It won't end until you tell me it does." Neal's eyes widened and then he relaxed when he understood what Peter was implying. He grinned up at him and Peter's thumb rubbed over Neal's abdomen. Kissing Neal's temple, Peter whispered, "I will make love to you all through the night and into the next morning until I've left you completely exhausted and sated in my arms."
"Is this your way of asking me to go back to the hotel with you?" Neal teased. Peter didn't say anything because he didn't want to pressure Neal. He was still giving Neal the option to change his mind. The last thing he wanted to do was make Neal feel like they had to make love. He desperately wanted to make love with his husband, but he could hold off if it made Neal uncomfortable. He was beginning to doubt that Neal would back out, but he left it open to possibility. "I wouldn't mind." Meeting Peter's eyes, Neal's own filled with concern. "You don't want to…?"
Peter heard the confusion in his voice and sighed quietly. "I do. Do you?" Neal nodded. "Then say it."
Raising an eyebrow, Neal said, "I want to make love with you."
Several minutes of silence passed between them and Neal was tense, beginning to feel awkward with Peter. He didn't know what Peter wanted. He sounded like he wanted to make love, but did he really not want to? Neal was receiving very mixed signals from his husband and he'd made it very clear to Peter before that he didn't like mind games. His brain hurt whenever he'd over-think something and he was doing that right now. "Do you want to go back to the hotel or would you rather we wait a little while?"
"If you don't want to do it, just say so. You've never forced me, so I'm not going to force you," Neal snapped. He rubbed his temples and Peter noticed.
"Are you okay?"
"You're giving me a fucking migraine," Neal whispered. "I don't know what you want to do and you're not making sense to me. I thought we were—"
Peter slid his left hand up Neal's chest, rubbing over his heart. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I want to make love to you. I just want to know if you're completely ready and willing before I take you back to our hotel room." He swallowed a lump in his throat as he said, "Once I'm inside of you, I can't take that feeling back. I don't want you to regret it."
Neal rested his hand over the hand Peter placed on his chest and sincerely responded, "Take me back to the hotel. I want this—I want you."
They parted enough so Neal could turn completely and look at him, showing his husband how serious he was. He wasn't going to back out. After wanting this for what felt like an eternity, he wanted this so badly. Peter promised him that they'd make love and he wasn't about to let Peter go back on that promise. He isn't afraid of Peter anymore, especially after having spent their anniversary with him. Peter is a romantic—a subtle romantic, as Neal discovered. Their alley dinner was part of that romantic demeanor in Peter, as was their dance.
After several moments of deliberation, Peter nodded and took Neal's hand in his, helping him stand while he himself rose to his feet. He wanted to promise Neal that Neal would love what they were about to do, that he could go all night to satisfy Neal in every way, that he'd give Neal multiple orgasms, but he wasn't entirely sure if he'd be able to do all of that for their 'first time.' He'd do everything he could to pleasure his husband because he, thankfully, knew most if not all of Neal's erogenous zones. Hell, he'd given Neal an orgasm that very morning simply by kissing the sensitive spot near his ear.
If Peter wanted Neal to have multiple orgasms, he figured he could use that spot to his advantage. Neal has always been very sensitive to his touch, so Peter told himself that he would pleasure his husband rather than hope he could do everything. He knows Neal's body better than Neal himself.
•◊•
Neal could see the hunger in Peter's eyes even though Peter wasn't looking at him while he unlocked their hotel room. He wanted this as much as Neal—if not more. Neal knew Peter hadn't had sex with anyone in months and Neal felt bad. He'd had sex with more than a dozen people in that time, so it wasn't like he'd gone without that kind of arousal. The only difference was that there would be intimacy involved. He's not entertaining Peter's wants and needs. He's making love with a man who loves him for him.
As Neal was about to head in after Peter unlocked the door, Peter pressed a hand against Neal's chest. "I want…" He looked a little nervous and Neal gave him a small smile, encouraging the older man. Clearing his throat, Peter finally said, "I want to carry you to our bed."
The younger man kept smiling as he said, "I'd like that very much." Before Peter had the opportunity to do so, Neal had a request of his own. "Can I have a few minutes before we…?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. Of course, sweetheart." He let Neal go in first and Neal was quick to grab one of his suitcases—and Peter knew which one it was. He watched Neal dart into the bathroom and found himself feeling very happy. After a few months, he was finally going to be intimate with his husband.
Neal stood in the bathroom alone, eyes wide. He didn't entirely know what Peter was expecting of him, so he was essentially winging the whole thing. He'd elected to read about some things on Peter's phone while Peter slept and successfully erased the sites he'd visited from the web history, but he was still nervous. Upon opening the suitcase and the bag containing the lingerie, he was even more nervous. "He's going to laugh at you," he whispered to himself as he sifted through the lingerie he and Elizabeth purchased. "Jesus. This is going to be such a train wreck…" He'd asked Elizabeth for a little advice before all of this and so he was doing what she suggested. He stripped himself entirely, pulling out the black, lacy lingerie Elizabeth said he should wear before their first time. Swallowing hard, he slipped them on and proceeded to grab a shirt he'd borrowedfrom Peter. It was a little oversized on him, but Elizabeth suggested that he wear one of Peter's shirts.
He reached into another part of the suitcase and pulled a razor and shaving cream out. Biting his lip, he looked at himself in the large mirror. He had no idea if Peter would like any of this, but he was going to try. If Peter laughed at him, then he knew he'd fucked up. Breathing heavily, Neal went through the process of applying shaving cream to his face—and his legs.
By the time he'd finished, both his face and legs felt very smooth. He'd been a little concerned about shaving in general and Elizabeth only suggested his face, but he read a few things about shaving his legs and, upon thinking about it a little more, he just realized that the forum he'd been reading was for women. He mentally cursed himself and his face heated up. What's done was done, but he felt like he was going to embarrass the hell out of himself. He'd done a wonderful job of doing just that this morning. He didn't want Peter to laugh at him…
"Honey, are you okay in there?" Peter asked concernedly. Neal tried to answer, but he felt a lump in his throat. He wanted this to be perfect and he really had no idea what he was doing. This was so much harder for him than it had been in the brothel or with Rachel. They'd just used him. Peter didn't want to use him, so he didn't know what he was supposed to be doing nor did he know if it was supposed to be any different than what he'd already experienced. He was having a nervous breakdown as he looked down at himself in the lingerie and then at his legs. "Neal? Neal, are you okay?" Neal closed his eyes and his jaw set firmly.
"You major fuck up," he hissed at himself a moment later. "You can't do a damn thing right."
Peter heard Neal and immediately knew Neal was speaking to himself. "Baby, can I come in?" Neal made a sound on the other side of the door and Peter was half-tempted to barge in on him. As he was about to do so, Neal opened the door enough to let Peter know that he could come in, but he wasn't in view. As soon as Peter was inside, he found Neal sitting on the bathtub's ledge with his pants across his lap. "What's wrong?" he asked concernedly. Neal looked up at him with tears in his eyes and Peter's heart broke.
"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so lost."
The older man knelt in front of Neal and rested his hands on Neal's legs, feeling his bare skin. Before he could speak, his eyes widened. Neal's legs had never been this smooth before. Backing up just enough to look for himself, he said, "Did you shave your legs?" Neal was silent and Peter looked at him just in time to see his eyes close and tears slide down his cheeks. "Sweetheart, don't cry."
Neal's jaw was beginning to ache with how tense it was. "I want to do this, but I don't know what to do. I don't know what you like. I don't want to disappoint you." Gesturing at his legs, he said, "I realize now that this wasn't something I should've done. I'm such an idiot. Jesus Christ."
"How about this?" he said softly, taking Neal's hand in his. "You relax and let me lead, okay?" Neal met his gaze and Peter released Neal's right hand so he could lift his left hand to wipe away Neal's tears. "No more crying, honey. It's all okay. I'm sorry that you're stressed about this, but it's just me. I don't expect anything special. Actually, I don't expect anything. You are special enough. Simply having you this way is wonderful."
"I—"
"Will you let me lead you?" Neal took a few moments to respond, but nodded. Peter gave him a small smile and kissed his cheeks, licking away his tears very slowly. "Don't worry about a damn thing. It's just us." He took Neal's pants and set them on the bathtub ledge, finally seeing the lingerie Neal was wearing. His throat dried immediately and he was harder than hell. Neal was watching him, trying to figure out what he needed to do and Peter didn't need him to do anything.
He pulled Neal's legs around his hips and Neal instinctively wrapped his arms around Peter's neck just as Peter lifted him. Neal crossed his ankles behind Peter and his heart fluttered when Peter kissed his neck while he carried him out of the bathroom and to their bed. He relaxed when Peter laid him down at the center and straddled his waist.
No words passed between them as Peter leaned down and captured Neal's lips with his own, kissing him slowly. Their eyes closed while they kissed and Peter tentatively grinded himself against Neal, letting Neal know how pleased he was already. The second they parted for breath, Neal whispered, "Peter," like a prayer, breathing his name like it actually held air he needed in order to survive.
Peter smiled, shifting to kiss Neal's forehead, both of his temples, his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, and then along his jaw line. Neal's entire body felt— He didn't even know how to describe the feeling. Peter's hands were sliding underneath his shirt, rubbing up and down his chest gently. Deliberately choosing to avoid the sensitive spot behind Neal's ear, Peter continued to kiss Neal's throat until he reached the collar of what he realized was actually his shirt. Eyes wide and hungry, Peter looked at Neal and said, "Do you realize how sexy it is that you're wearing my clothing?" Neal didn't know that, but he was glad he did something sexy. Peter moaned and proceeded to slide the shirt off of his husband. Neal could wear Peter's clothes whenever he wanted. Right now, Peter didn't want Neal wearing any clothes.
Once the shirt was discarded, Peter kissed across Neal's collarbone, each of his shoulders, and began to trail his lips down Neal's right arm. "Peter," Neal whispered. "God… Peter…"
Chuckling to himself, Peter kissed down the length of Neal's left arm and then returned to Neal's chest, sucking on each nipple tenderly before kissing him directly down the center to his navel. Neal was squirming beneath him, but he knew Neal was enjoying this. Before, Neal might've said that Peter was torturing him. Now, Neal wanted this torturous love. He hadn't felt anything like this since he'd woken up without his memories. "Promise me you'll wear these for me again soon," he murmured as he kissed across each of Neal's abs. He hooked his fingers under Neal's lingerie and had every intention of pulling them down to toss them aside, but he thought better of that. Neal went through the mental embarrassment of wondering if the lingerie was something Peter would like, so Peter wanted to show him just how much he liked it.
He licked along the outline of the lace, tasting hints of Neal's skin. He licked the patterns of the lingerie over Neal's hips, down towards his rear, and then gradually made his way towards the bulge he wanted to suck into his mouth like a vacuum. "If you always kiss me like this, then hell yes," Neal breathed.
Peter appreciated every part of Neal's lingerie twice before meeting Neal's eyes, silently asking for his permission to remove the material that barely concealed his manhood.
Neal's sounds aroused Peter to no end as he took the time to appreciate Neal's thighs and every inch of skin between Neal's legs before finally making his way towards Neal's cock. He kept his eyes on Neal the whole time, watching his reaction. He wanted Neal to trust him, which is why he decided he was pleasuring his husband first.
When he finally swallowed Neal's hard length, Neal gasped, his back arching off of the bed. The fingers of his left hand tangled in Peter's hair as Peter slowly sucked on him, lapping his tongue at Neal's slit every now and then just to elicit another pleased gasp from the younger man. And that was how he'd gotten Neal to orgasm for the first time. Neal cried out—failing to add Peter's name into his cry—as he released into Peter's mouth.
Diligent husband that he is, Peter swallowed every last drip of come that came out of his husband. It was a taste he'd missed for so long and he wanted to burst into tears of joy now that he'd been given that taste once again.
Once Neal relaxed himself after his climax he asked if he could return the favor and Peter hesitantly conceded, but he said he'd allow it only if Neal allowed them to shift into a sixty-nine position, which Neal gladly agreed to. Peter avoided Neal's sensitive cock for the moment and tried his damnedest not to thrust into Neal's mouth the second Neal sucked him into his hot, wet mouth. He let Neal do what Neal wanted to do and proceeded to do what he wanted to do to Neal.
He hadn't done it a whole lot when Neal had his memories, but he'd discovered that Neal loved it nonetheless. Tentatively, he spread Neal's legs and gently gripped his hips, shifting himself until he could lick at Neal's hole. Neal gasped and shuddered, loving the sensations Peter gave him. He kept sucking on his husband while Peter licked him and he felt like he was going to come undone again.
Both of them were sweating by this point and Peter was enjoying what he was doing to Neal until he heard how labored Neal's breathing was. Neal announced that he was going to come again and that was when Peter slid his tongue into Neal. Neal hadn't lied when he said he was going to come and he, surprisingly, had hardened very quickly to release again.
They continued pleasuring each other this way until Peter finally decided to use his fingers to open his husband. It didn't take very long before he knew Neal was opened enough. "Are you ready?" Peter whispered, resting his hand on Neal's hip, rubbing it gently.
"Yes," Neal said instantly.
Both men began to move and anger surged through Peter when Neal turned over onto his stomach and pushed himself up. "No," Peter growled, frightening Neal enough to make him shift away until he could look at Peter's face. "I should have made this very clear before, but you are notallowed to face away from me." Neal's eyes were wide and full of confusion. It was the only position Neal knew to use with a man. "On your back." Hesitantly, Neal did as Peter said, lying on his back. "We've never used that position," he whispered before tentatively kissing Neal. "I refuse to use it with you. I want you to look at me when I make love to you—and I want nothing more than to look at you as I make love to you."
Neal nodded, whispering, "I'll remember that next time."
Peter hovered over his husband, staring directly into his eyes. He was searching those beautiful blue orbs and found exactly what he was looking for. Neal trusted him—loved him. He'd seen that in Neal's eyes so many times before and knew they'd be just fine.
The older man held onto his husband, loving that Neal held him much the same, as they connected for the first time in months—and for the first time in Neal's case. Neal's eyes fluttered to a close and his mouth opened when Peter was fully sheathed inside of him. Peter's movements were slow and full of love. Neal knew the difference between fucking and lovemaking now that Peter was making love to him.
He couldn't help crying as Peter kissed him, thrusting into him at a pace they could both enjoy—that Peter knew they'd enjoy. Peter swallowed Neal's cries while kissing him and he listened to his husband's panting, his pleading for more, his moans and groans, and the sounds he recognized as Neal's orgasms. Neal wasn't going to ejaculate again—not yet, but he was experiencing orgasms nonetheless. Not once did he mention Peter's name.
Neither of them kept track of how long they'd been connected. They were sweating heavily and Peter's fingers were tangled in Neal's hair before he shifted his hands to take Neal's in them, intertwining their fingers while holding Neal's hands against the pillows he'd laid Neal upon.
Neal's kisses were desperate and lustful. He wanted Peter's mouth, to feel his lips, to kiss him. His legs were pressed against Peter's sides and he was squeezing Peter's fingers tightly, gasping each and every time Peter brushed against his prostate.
Peter rocked against his husband, showing him physically how much he loves Neal. Never did he allow himself to lose control with him. During this 'first time,' he wanted to be in absolute control because this was for them as much as it was directly for Neal. Shockingly, as they were nearing the end, Neal began to say Peter's name, moaning it and begging him for more. By the time Peter finally ejaculated, he was stunned by the fact that Neal came simultaneously—and they both cried each other's names simultaneously as well. Peter's heart warmed when Neal kept whispering Peter's name repeatedly after he'd cried out. He hadn't expected Neal to say his name in his release since he hadn't before, but it was a beautiful thing nonetheless.
"Neal," he said breathlessly as he released Neal's hands and stroked Neal's hair with his left hand, using his right to wipe away Neal's tears.
"I love you so much," Neal sobbed, wrapping his arms around Peter's neck before he kissed him passionately. Neal cried for what seemed like an indefinite amount of time, but he was happy. He felt wonderful. He felt loved, cared for, cherished, and wanted.
Peter loved how happy Neal was. Neal looked like he was glowing. He hadn't been this happy in…a while. "I love you so much, sweetheart," he whispered to Neal as he hovered over his husband, staring at Neal's face as Neal finally opened his eyes—his tear-filled eyes. "Happy anniversary, angel."
Neal caressed Peter's cheeks, rubbing Peter's cheekbones as he smiled up at Peter while blinking his tears away. "Happy anniversary, Peter Michael," he whispered. Peter's heart skipped a beat. Neal didn't know Peter's middle name as far as Peter knew. The fact that he said it like he would have said it before made him wonder if something came back. He'd pry that answer out of Neal later because he could see his husband succumbing to his exhaustion.
After glancing at the clock, Peter realized he'd drawn out their lovemaking for a little over two hours. He'd exhausted the hell out of Neal after making him ejaculate three times and orgasm at least three or four times in between ejaculations. "Go to sleep," Peter whispered, kissing Neal's forehead as Neal struggled to keep himself awake.
"Chest." Peter's brows furrowed. "Want to hear your heart." Peter nodded and finally separated their bodies, loving the small gasp that elicited from his husband. He laid on his back and watched Neal roll over to curl up to him, resting his head directly above Peter's heart. "Beautiful," Neal whispered after a few moments of silence passed between them.
Peter had so many questions for Neal. Did he satisfy Neal? Did he live up to anything Neal expected? Was Neal truly happy? He kept them to himself, letting his angel sleep against him. Neal fell asleep with a smile plastered onto his face and Peter knew the answers to his questions without having to hear Neal speak them.
He laid awake—barely—for a little while longer, stroking Neal's arm. He'd thrown it across Peter's abdomen and it laid there while he slept and Peter wanted to feel his warm skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispered to his sleeping lover. He blinked back tears of his own now that they'd both calmed down. Making love to Neal was an emotional experience for him because he'd done so while pretending Neal was a virgin—at Neal's own request. He felt like he'd taken Neal's virginity even though he knew damn well that he never had a chance in hell at taking something that should have been so special from Neal.
Neal snored quietly, sleeping peacefully against the older man's body. Peter watched him, smiling at him, until he could no longer keep his eyes open. Their morning had started off rocky and the day progressed better than Peter had foreseen, but he was ecstatic to see how happy he'd made Neal tonight. A few tears escaped Peter's eyes as Peter fully succumbed to his own exhaustion. Having Neal here again and having made love to Neal again… He wanted nothing more than to keep Neal this happy, to see him smile, to see his eyes filled with such love and trust…
He'd enjoyed their anniversary wholeheartedly. Despite embarrassing Neal that very morning, he loved eating with Neal, but he loved dancing with Neal so much more. They'd danced so passionately and Peter never wanted those few moments to end. It reminded him of the slow dance they'd shared the day they'd gotten married. Before they left Paris, he intended on slow dancing to I Wanna Kiss You All Over with Neal as they had following their second wedding on their wedding day. They never truly spoke about the song, but Peter felt like it was their song. They'd made love to it before and they'd danced to an instrumental of it while singing it quietly to each other after they'd gotten married.
As he laid in bed with Neal, listening to his soft snores, all he could hear were the lyrics to that particular song—the one he now deemed was theirs.When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire. All day, I've been thinkin' about you, babe. You're my one desire. Gonna wrap my arms around you, hold you close to me. Oh, babe, I wanna taste your lips. I wanna fill your fantasy. Yeah… I don't know what I'd do without you, babe. Don't know where I'd be. You're not just another lover. No, you're everything to me…
It truly was a happy anniversary. Neal's smile was the only evidence Peter needed.