I'm not quite sure how you expect me to answer you. I like to think I'm a strong, smart woman. I've done many things in my life that, while not at all entirely wholesome, have definitely required some semblance of intelligence. Some fortitude.
Both of which seem to have fled hand in hand with my self-consciousness. I'm vaguely aware that I'm reclining on the couch in the living room. Topless. And, if your smile is any indication, sans jeans very shortly. I should feel a little uncomfortable. Shouldn't I? It's not everyday I sit around without clothes while you sit around right with me. Naked. You are really naked and I...
"Olivia?" Your hands have a solid grip on my jeans and my underwear and I'm suddenly afraid to move. Your lips are hovering right below my bellybutton and the feel of your warm breath on my skin stops all thoughts in mid stride. "Be quiet."
"I didn't…I wasn't…"
"Talking. No, you weren't." Very slowly, you start tugging your hands down my legs, waiting patiently for me to lift my hips. "But I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours. It's actually one of the things I love about you. Watching your eyes focus as you work something out in your head."
My jeans and underwear finally clear my feet and you toss them to side without another thought. You lean back on your heels, your hands resting lightly against my knees. You continue, almost conversationally, as your thumbs wreak havoc on my senses. "However, right now? The only thing I want you to focus on is this."
Your lips graze the front of my knee and my stomach automatically clenches. Every nerve ending is running hot and cold along my body, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I can feel your breasts along the inside of my legs as you continue to kiss along the top of my thigh. And as turned on as I am by the feel of you against me, something just doesn't feel right.
Looking down my body to where you are, I realize that I don't want you on your knees in front of me. We've given each other pleasure and I know that despite the reservations brought on by your faith, nothing that has gone on between us has been anything but beautiful and loving. Even the way your hands are touching me now speaks to a certain reverence and yet I want you up here with me, where our bodies can be equal.
"Natalia." I say your name with a smile and shift on the couch, holding on to your hands to pull you to me. "Come up here with me." Without hesitation, you range your body over mine, holding your weight above me for a few torturous seconds.
"So, something like…" Your eyes close as you lower your body to mine, inch by inch.
First, your soft thighs slip between my legs and I bite my bottom lip as your center presses gently against me. Your belly is firm as it slides against mine and on a soft exhale, I release my lip before I bite down and draw blood. Finally, you ease against me the rest of the way, your breasts heavy on my own. "This?"
Opening your eyes, you rub your lips against my mouth, teasing me with the promise of a kiss. Roughly, I bring my hands to either side of your face. "Like this."
I take your mouth in a bruising kiss, the taste of you tossing all thoughts of gentleness out the window. I'm drowning in the feel of you, the length of you pressed against my body and the warm, wet feel of your tongue brushing against mine. Your lips are impossibly soft and full and as I suck on your bottom lip, I accept your surprised groan with a wild thrill of pleasure.
The ache inside me is growing, fueled by the heat pumping off your body. Tendrils of lust are sweeping across my skin, gathering tightly deep in my belly. Raking my hands down your back, I pull your hips closer to me, shamelessly grinding against you. The sound of our bodies moving against each other on the couch is quickly pushing me towards orgasm and despite trying to fight it, the huskiness in my voice betrays how close I actually am.
"Don't stop. Please, don't stop." My eyes are closed tight so all I can feel is you. I can feel your thigh pressing against my wetness. I can feel your hands above my shoulders gripping the fabric of the couch as you rock against me. I can feel you…stopping? Suddenly, your hips stop their glorious friction and you arch away from me.
"This isn't quite what I had in mind with the 'don't' and the 'stop'." I whisper weakly, my breath rushing in and out of my lungs. I look up to find you grinning above me, your cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Who said I was stopping?" You lean down and scrape your teeth over my chin, marking the skin of my neck with little bites soothed by the warmth of your tongue. Placing a kiss to my shoulder, you catch my eyes before sliding further down my body. "I'm not done with you yet."
"Thank God." The genuine relief in my voice makes you laugh and earns me a flash of dimples. It's disarming really, how sweet you look when you smile like that. Who could know that behind that gorgeous smile lurked a tease?
Your hands are braced next to my sides, preventing me from squirming. Something I really, really want to do because your mouth, which only seconds before was lazily gliding across my breasts, has taken a keen interest in my nipples. With focused intensity, your bring them into your mouth, your tongue coaxing them to harden further.
Each pull of your mouth fires an answering jolt between my legs and I'm fairly certain that a few more minutes of this and my body will just let go completely. My thighs open a little wider to accommodate your body as you abandon my breasts for my stomach.
My hands have been tangled in your hair and it's only when my fingertips are barely able to feel the silky strands, that my eyes open and I truly see where you are headed. You're watching me as you place urgent kisses to the bottom of my ribs, your bottom lip sliding lower and lower towards the center of my excitement. Your hands are fluttering between my thighs and my hips and my stomach and I can see the pulse point jumping beneath your skin.
"Natalia, you don't have to do this." You look so nervous. Determined, but nervous and I don't want you to feel rushed into something you're not ready for. "You don't have to…"
"I want to." You've settled your hands at the juncture between my waist and my hips and I have to force myself not to buck into your touch. "What you did to me earlier, upstairs? It's never been like that for me before." Color has bloomed across your cheeks and beautiful seems too inadequate of a word to describe how you look to me right now. I let my hands reach down to hold yours, my fingers tightening as you continue to speak.
"I want to make you feel like that, feel that good." You bring my fingertips to your mouth, kissing each one softly. "And…" Your eyes drop from mine now and everything inside me tenses as I wait for you to finish. "Ever since this morning, I've wondered what you taste like." The last part is delivered in a rush and is barely audible over the white noise of the television and the blood rushing to my head.
Despite this, your words sound as loud as a shout in my mind and the only thing I can do is groan as my stomach drops. Tentatively, your mouth resumes its previous trail across my lower belly as your hands slip down to press my thighs a little further apart.
I'm not going to make it. Your shy, unsure kisses are more arousing than anything any of my previous, more experienced lovers have done to me. Your mouth opens and the rush of air across my wetness is almost my undoing. You haven't even touched me yet.
I look down to find you watching me and the image that presents will be forever seared into my brain. "Natalia…" I get as far as your name before all the air is gone from my lungs, carried away on a long, low moan. Your tongue has started to slowly move against me and when your own moans reach my ears, I can feel my legs already starting to tremble.
In my life, I have been taken. I have seduced and done the taking. I have had mindless sex and meaningful sex. I have made love. But as your mouth unravels all the secrets of my passion, I know that I have never had this before. This connection, this complete awareness of another person to the point of aching. Everything I am is laid bare before you and as you love me with your mouth and your hands and your sounds of excitement and encouragement, I grab onto you and willingly jump over that final sharp edge of pleasure.
I struggle to get my breathing under control and relax my body, which has become wrapped tightly around you. My insides are still pulsing, my hips rocking slightly against you. I cup your face in my hands and just look at you, running my fingertips over your eyebrows and across your lips.
I want to speak but the look in your eyes quiets me. Wonder and pleasure and love glisten in your dark eyes. Your hands hold tightly to my wrists as you lean down to share a kiss with me. The taste of your mouth is flavored with my most intimate taste and the kiss goes from gentle to scorching in seconds. My hands start to take an already familiar path down your sides when we both freeze.
"Was that…" You start to speak but more loud knocks interrupt you and we both scramble to sit up, only to be brought up short by the voice on the other side of the door.
"Natalia? Are you in there? It's Frank. Open up, please?"
There is a tiny part of me that really wants to laugh. Belly-shaking, tear-inducing, cracking- up laughter. The only thing preventing me from doing that is the look of abject fear on your face.
"Natalia? I see your car outside. I know you're in there. Please open the door, sweetheart. I just want to talk to you." Frank continues his pleading from behind the shut door and I have a brief image of the Big Bad Wolf and the Three Little Pigs. Well, two little pigs. Two little naked pigs.
Okay. Not helping with the not laughing. I bite the inside of my cheek and turn to you with what I hope is some semblance of a respectable expression.
All amusement fades as I watch you struggle with your jeans. I can see your hands shaking from here and I push off the couch and go to you, oblivious to my naked state. You're fumbling with your sweater and I reach out to still your hands, my alarm growing at the icy feel of your fingers.
"Natalia, it's okay. Easy. Let me help you." I soften my voice to counter the panic jumping out at me. You spare me one quick glance before crouching down away from me to grab my sweater from the floor. Thrusting it into my hands, you yank your own sweater over your head, scooping my jeans up before I've even pulled my hair out of my sweater. You hold them out in my general direction as your eyes travel around the room.
While I pull my jeans on, I try to read the emotions playing across your face. I can see you are nervous that Frank has shown up here. I'd like to hope that is because of our very intimate activities a few minutes ago but there is a nagging part of me that sees guilt with the nerves. Last night, you admitted that you told Frank you couldn't marry him.
As I watch you walk towards the kitchen, it occurs to me that you never told me the reason you gave him for calling off the engagement. "I need something to drink. Can you get the door, please?" You don't wait for an answer and I'm left standing alone in the living room.
The serenity of this morning is slowly seeping away with each persistent knock at the door. I sigh and rub my fingers briskly over my face. I catch the scent of you on my fingers and slide a brief glance at the couch. Accepting the small tug of pain in my chest, I call out loudly to Frank. "Hold on a minute. I'm coming."
Unlocking the door, I'm forced to stumble back a few paces as Frank bursts through. Instinctively, I brace my hands against his chest and his searching eyes wheel back to mine. I put just enough force to keep him from bowling me over and it occurs to me that I can feel his heart racing in his chest. I fix a small smile on my face, drop my hands and take a step back.
"Hey, hey. What's going on?" I can feel your statue staring holes in my back as I fake ignorance to Frank's reason for being there. Lady, if this is the worst thing you've seen this morning…
"Olivia..." Frank's hands wrap around my upper arms and the strength of his grip startles me. "Is Natalia here? Her car is out front and well, you're still here so she can't be at work. Is she upstairs?"
Before I can even answer one of those questions, Frank's gaze tracks up the stairs. "Natalia?!"
"Stop yelling. We were just finishing breakfast. She's in the…"
"Frank." I hear your voice call out from behind me and immediately Frank drops his hands from my arms. He is just standing there watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. The tension in the room increases with each passing second and I wander over to the other side of the couch. You've mimicked my movements and end up a few feet in front of Frank, your body half turned to face both of us.
Even though it feels petty and foolish, I let a small amount of hurt into my eyes at the position you've taken closest to him. This unexpected insecurity is wrapping around me like a muted fog and I can feel myself being weighed down by it. The rational part of me is struggling against this feeling but it feels like a losing effort. Even knowing that you love me, knowing that you have spent the better part of the past 15 hours sharing that love, doesn't stop the flicker of fear from licking at my vulnerability.
Old defense mechanisms rumble awake and let the anger through. I see your face the minute you recognize the look in my eyes and there's still enough left inside me to have me dropping my gaze from yours and focusing on the couch.
Great. Fucking perfect. I can see your bra and both of our underwear on the floor near the couch and the petulant child in me wants to hold them up as evidence of our love. Frank would understand evidence, right?
Sigh. Childish impulses would only hurt you too so as discreetly as I can, I lean over by the couch and stuff them under the cushions. I cover my action by arranging the pillows on the couch, fighting hard against the urge throw them at Frank and just scoop you up and dash up the stairs.
Taking a deep breath, I put that child to bed and let the adult Olivia stake her claim. You're both looking at me expectantly and I take the hint.
"Natalia." At the pleading sound of your name, you turn a little more in Frank's direction, holding the glass of orange juice in front of you like a shield.
"I guess you guys need to talk." Ding, ding, ding. Understatement of the century! What do we have for her, Johnny? Frank's eyes never leave you but you look back towards me, one side of your mouth trying valiantly for a smile.
"I'll just go finish taking care of the dishes." I keep looking at you as I turn to go into the kitchen and while your eyes meet and hold mine, it seems a dozen things pass between us. I stop at the threshold of the kitchen, fighting against the urge to walk back in there and be with you when you talk to him. Your sigh reaches me as you turn to face him and I grudgingly continue to the kitchen table.
Shuffling a few plates around, I wait all of 5 seconds before making my way to the doorway. I know I shouldn't do this. I know I shouldn't listen. I also know it doesn't matter. I need to hear this. No, I shouldn't lie to myself. I want to hear this.
I nod my head at the admission and at least feel a little better for being honest. Yeah right.
I get a little closer and close my eyes as I listen to the ebb and flow of your voices.
"Natalia…"
"Frank, what are you doing here?" There's a tremor in your voice and I have to grip the doorjamb a little harder to keep from going in there.
"I had to come see you. I couldn't sleep after you left last night. All I did was think. I thought about what you said and I thought about us."
I can hear your deep breath from here and my heart breaks a little for you. "There is no us. What I told you last night, I didn't say any of that lightly and I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe that. But Frank, I can't be with you the way you want me to. I love you and I love your family but I'll never be the woman, the bride you want me to be."
Frank's footsteps creak along the wood and I know that he's stepped closer to you. Can doorjambs be ripped out of old farmhouses by bare hands?
"But you are! Don't you see that? You're sweet and kind and have a good heart. You take care of people and I love that about you. If you love me like you say, than this could work. We can make this work." There's desperation running in tandem with the earnestness I hear in Frank's voice and my heart breaks a little more. For him and for you.
"We can't." Your voice is softer now and covered in the beginnings of tears. "I'm…I'm sorry, Frank."
"Well, I don't accept that."
What? "What?"
"It's been a long time since I've felt this way about anybody, Natalia. If you think I'm going to just give up without a fight, then you don't know me that well. Maybe I rushed the engagement and I'm sorry for that. I can understand if you're not ready for that yet. I've been more than patient about not pushing you for more than you're ready for."
"Now, wait a second…" The tears dry up in your voice as you speak but I can hear Frank barrel right over whatever it was you were going to say.
"I'm a patient man, Natalia, but I know that you're the perfect woman for me and I plan on showing you how great this can really be." I hear the juice glass clang against the floor and I step through the doorway just in time to see Frank's hands on your shoulders, leaning towards your lips. With your hands still at your sides, you turn your head so his kiss glances off your cheek.
Shock has me walking forward slowly, unable to turn away from the sight of Frank's hands on you.
"Frank…" There is weariness and a pleading to your voice that goes right over his head.
"I'll see you real soon, Natalia." He smiles briefly in my direction and with one last touch to your shoulders, turns around and walks out the door.
You walk forward and lock the door, resting your forehead against the solid wood. I keep moving towards you until I am a few feet away.
"Natalia?" I'm trying to keep my voice neutral but my eyes catch the juice glass resting on the floor and the image of a few moments ago flashes in my head. "What was that about?"
You keep facing away from me for a few seconds more and then you turn, your eyes dark and heavy with emotions. "Frank seems to think that I'm the perfect woman for him and it doesn't matter what I think about us not being together, he's going to show me how amazing we can be."
"I know, I heard all that. But…" I realize too late what I've said as rare anger pushes forefront into your eyes.
"You were listening?"
"I was in the kitchen and I overheard." I cringe a bit at my description but as the anger flashes higher in your eyes, even that guilt burns away. "But that's beside the point. If you told Frank you didn't want to be with him and he insisted on coming here and not listening to you again, why didn't you just tell him there was someone else?"
"Olivia, I was still…am still figuring things out myself. He doesn't need to know everything, just that I don't want to be with him. It should be enough."
"But it's not, clearly. He basically told you it didn't matter what you wanted or didn't want. He was going to have you anyway." The reigns of my temper are ripped from my hands and I can feel myself treading on dangerous ground. "And you just stood here and let him."
Your mouth opens in shock at the tone of my words before your eyes harden, glaring at me with barely restrained anger. "Well, if that's what you think..." You move to go by me and I step directly into your path, blocking your exit. "I can't talk about this right now."
"Let me by, Olivia. I think it's best if we just give each other some space right now. Maybe when you cool down, we can talk about this."
Oh no you don't. You don't get to do that. Frank just stood here and told you that he wasn't done making a play for your love and your commitment and you didn't say a word. Well, he can try all he wants but your heart and your mind and your body are mine. As mine are yours. He can't, he won't touch that.
You go to move past me one more time and this time, I step to the side, forcing you to put your back towards the wall.
"Olivia." I hear the warning in your voice but it rolls off me like sweat. The need to claim, to mark you as mine is thundering through my blood with the speed of a thousand horses. My only thought is to be inside you so that your only thought is of me.
You hold your hands out, either in pleading or warning. I'm not sure which and it's too late to guess as I take the two strides that bring me into contact with your body. Your hands grip my waist hard as I back you up against the wall, my hands on either side of your shoulders.
Our eyes clash and spark and I can feel the fire race down my spine and tingle through my system. On a deep breath, I bring my hips forward against yours and your fingers tighten almost painfully on my hips. Trapping you against the wall, I reach down and pull your sweater over your head. Your hands are forced to leave my waist and as they rise up, I bunch the fabric in one of my hands, pinning your hands above your head.
Your eyes are wide on mine and as the breath shudders out of your lungs, my eyes are drawn down. Lingering on your open mouth to sweep briefly past your nipples and land on your stomach muscles tightening with each heavy breath. I bring my other hand to the soft skin of your stomach, my nails raking lightly as I make my way to the button on your jeans. Before I even have them open, my mouth is on yours, my tongue breaking the barrier of your lips without preamble.
I feel your hands clench against the sweater I'm holding in my hand and I deepen the kiss, reveling in the feel of your tongue pushing against mine. I've managed to get your zipper down and as the backs of my fingers brush against the very top of your lower belly, I'm acutely aware that your underwear is still stuffed under the cushions of the couch.
I lean back from the kiss, ripping your sweater the rest of the way off and throwing it behind me. Your hands immediately grip the hair at the nape of my neck and pull my head back, exposing my throat to your gaze. I'm struck by the inherent vulnerability of this position and I lessen the pressure of my hips against you as this undercurrent builds between us.
Our heavy breathing is the only sound in the room for a few moments before I quietly break the silence.
"He won't have you." I say this through gritted teeth, my hands curling against your ribcage. I can't believe the possessiveness that is sweeping through me and at any other time, I might have found it amusing. Not now.
As I listened to you two talk before, I realized that I could never go back to the way things were. I thought that being selfless was the ultimate sacrifice I could make for love. That whole "if you love something set it free" crap. I tried that route and it almost killed me. Now, to finally have your love and your desire and your trust? It's a gift I am going to prove every day that I'm worthy of. I know how to fight dirty and while I respect Frank, I'll go down swinging before I lose you. To him. To doubts. To guilt.
I slide my hands to press against your breasts, accepting the feel of your lips and teeth claiming the side of my throat. I catch your nipples in the webbing between my fingers and squeeze harder, reveling in the groans coming from you. Your open mouth drags over my chin, your tongue meeting mine in the space between our mouths.
Your hands have abandoned my hair and have started pulling at my sweater. "Off. I need to touch you. God, take this off." Your words are muffled against my mouth and I reluctantly step away to take my sweater off.
As I drop the sweater , you make quick work of your jeans, kicking them to the side. Smiling at you, I bring my fingertips to your throat. I trail them slowly across your collarbone to the space between your breasts. Your hands lay flat against the wall behind you and after one electric moment, I continue my journey. Softly, I touch along your stomach and down across your hips, bringing my fingers to rest along your inner thigh.
Your head drops back against the wall and you open your legs a little wider. I turn my wrist slowly, my eyes never straying from yours. Pressing just the tips of my fingertips against you, I lean forward until our breasts touch. Bracing my other hand on the wall, I bring my mouth to yours in a gentle kiss. Teasing your mouth open, I slowly brush my tongue against yours, sliding into your wetness at the same time.
I absorb the shock of desire that trembles from your body and keep my slow pace, my tongue and fingers focused only on your pleasure. Your hips start to move against me, your wetness allowing for easy contact against the bundle of nerves I can feel against my thumb.
Your hips keep a steady rhythm even as our kisses become wilder. I can feel your body tightening, greedy pulses grabbing at my fingers. Your arms band around my shoulders as you get closer, your pants brushing against my mouth between kisses.
I need to see you. I need to see in your eyes that you know it's me that is doing this to you. That it's me that's loving you and touching you and wants you. I tug on your bottom lip to get your attention and your eyes open heavy-lidded on mine.
Using my body, I push deeper and press harder against you, ignoring the pleasure threatening to shatter my control. Your brow furrows and your breath holds and I know that this is it. This is what I wanted.
Your eyes slam shut and your nails dig into my back as your body lets go. I brace your weight against the wall with my body, bringing my lips to your cheek as you rest your head against my shoulder. My fingers are still inside you and I lower my mouth to your ear.
"Mine." I whisper.
You turn your head and place a warm, soft kiss on my lips. "Yours."