Definite M.

Now that they were finally here, there was very little sense of hesitation in either of their thoughts or actions. As they kissed, he pressed the towel gently into her skin, drying her off. Once he had finished her front, he wrapped his arms around hers, his hands on the back of her shoulders, lifting her to sit up so that he could do the same to her back, and dab at her hair. She must have washed her hair first, because it was almost dry, and soft under his hands. He moved to sit behind her properly so that she sat between his legs, as he nuzzled into her hair and the side of her cheek. She smelled of his soap that she had obviously used to wash herself. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her, pressing her back into his chest- their skin making contact where she had undone the buttons of his pyjama shirt. His hands moved to cup her bare breasts, and he heard her moan softly. He rested his chin on her shoulder, moving his hands down towards her thighs, nudging them apart and rubbing the towel slowly down the inside of her legs. He felt her back arch against him, and he let his hand rest against her hip to hold her still.

"Will you let me do something for you?" he whispered in her ear.

She did not speak, but he felt her nod haltingly beside his face. Her breath was becoming more and more uneven.

He shifted so that he was no longer sitting behind her, helping her to move backwards and sit on the pillows, resting back against the headboard. Moving to kneel before her, he held her hand in his, before leaning forwards, nudging to sit between her legs, to kiss her. When his mouth left hers it simply did not stop until he had travelled down to her navel. He felt her fingers winding into the back of his hair, holding him there. He was not sure if she was doing it to keep him closer to her or to prevent him going any further.

Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her. He found her pupils darkened with pleasure, a flush creeping up through her neck from her chest.

"Will you let me?" he asked quietly, looking at her very clearly. His had caressed her hip in a placatory motion.

"You don't have to," she whispered.

"I want to."

"You should know," he sensed a hint of wryness even amidst her excitement, "I was never very good at... at that."

Gently, he brushed his hand against her face, moving a soft lock of hair to behind her ear, taking in her and her beauty.

"You're not the one that has to be very good at it."

And with that his lips joined his hand at her hip, slipping down gently to the inside of her thigh before he kissed her centre. He felt her hips buck a little off the pillows, and heard her moan loudly.

"Shh," he told her, pressing the heel of his hand gently into her groin, letting his fingers lie between her folds and letting them slide back and forward, feeling how wet she was, "It's alright."

He returned his lips to her, gently sucking and letting his tongue trace where his fingers had been a moment before.

"Richard," her voice was uneven, only just in control, "Richard, I don't think I can-..."

Just then, she lost the ability to articulate herself and her words became a low cry as she came, slumping and trembling against him as he moved to hold her in his arms and lower her down to lie on the bed until she had recovered.

…...

They lay like that for a long time; her still trembling a little and trying to recover some of her senses, while he gently stroked her hair and her back. When she thought she could trust her voice, she spoke.

"Thank you, Richard."

He kissed her forehead.

"For you, my love."

She sighed contentedly against his neck, tightening her arms around him. She was not sure how on earth she had managed to find herself such a wonderful man as this, but she certainly wasn't going to let him go any time soon. At this moment in time, she did not care if she was acting wantonly, because in to her no one else existed but them, and there was no none to judge her wantonness. It didn't matter; nothing mattered but them. She found his lips and kissed them passionately.

She felt his arms adjust to hold her close to him, and they simply lay beside each other for a while, bodies aligned, kissing. Then, somehow feeling as if she was taking a tiny chance, she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel his excitement pressing against her, and felt the knot of excitement begin to tighten inside herself in response. She had not felt like this in years, she could not remember ever feeling like she did in that moment.

"Richard, make love to me. Please."

She felt him shift a little, and rolled away from him, hoping to speed things up. In fact, she found that she could not wait, and started to help him remove his pyjama trousers. His arousal free, she found herself distracted for a moment for her own need for release, and took him into her hand, enjoying it immensely when he gasped in surprise. Lying there on his back, she allowed herself to tease him for a moment, running her hand lightly along him until her own impatience grew too much and she straddled his hips, drawing him to her and lowering herself onto him in one motion.

They started slowly, drawing every movement out, feeling every inch of each other, until holding back became too much and they found themselves both hurtling over the edge. Collapsing beside each other on the sheets, freshly exhausted, they held each other until they drifted back off to sleep.

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