I don't wake again until I feel little knees around my hips and the softest hands searching through our sheets for my own.
Instantly and entirely, I'm made of so-warm, too-full heartbeats, and Bella's surrounding me with the light scent of spearmint and vanilla pears. I don't remember her leaving to shower, or when the sun got so bright, but our fingers find, and nothing else matters. We're palm to palm, enacting our first touch almost exactly, and even though hands are only pressed to hands, it's a touch I feel everywhere.
This is how we always start.
It's how I know she wants to try.
"Good morning," she whispers, opening our fingers, inviting me to trace tender tips and delicate bends.
"Good morning," she says again, mid-daylight breaking through behind dark hair when I blink my eyes open.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she whispers, smiling. "Good morning..."
Pushing my fingers gently along hers, unbending them, keeping them open, I smile as dark lashes lilt and lips I love part. I press the pads of my thumbs into the bases of hers, spreading them slowly out, and little lids completely close.
We move slowly, but we've both come to know these movements by heart.
Hands together, I lean up so we're lips to lips. My temples throb, and need as heavy as gravity concentrates the same place it always does, sorely full between my hips. Love breathes for me, but I know better than to lift and press into her yet.
"You're my good morning," I whisper, indifferent to my headache, unconcerned with the time. "And you have the best," I brush my nose along hers. "Most stellar," and across her cheek. "Most incomparable smile I've ever fucking seen."
Proving my point, lips I'll never get enough of curve higher. Her nose and eyelids scrunch, and her smile becomes the sound that heats my pulse.
"Just like that," I tell her, my own grin growing, so close to hers that every breath she exhales is my intake. Even on my back, my sense of balance dizzies. I swear the air in our room thins as my temperature climbs.
Her smile does this.
Just her smile.
Every part of me wants to kiss love good morning every day, just like this, for the rest of my life.
I trace precious knuckles with prudent awareness and smooth my fingers along each of hers with purposeful patience. Her smile shines even brighter, and it makes my hard-beating heart swell over.
Leaning higher, I close my lips tentatively along the side of her top one.
Once.
Twice when she closes her lips along mine.
And a third time, together, and every cell I'm made of lights up with rightness.
Mouths barely parted, only enough for lips, these are the cleanest, most chaste kisses I've ever shared. They always are, but they're also the bravest, most honest, and most trustful, and as deeply sore as I am for more, I wouldn't trade Tulip's faith or pace for anything.
Her lips part as I brush the sides of her palms, and I kiss through her inhale, lacing my fingers between smaller, softer ones. Her hands try to curve and cling, but I keep her open.
Warm sounds melt along my lips. I kiss and am kissed, and my hips shake through the natural need to lift and push, and hold love all the way open.
She moans, higher, warmer, melting closer along and deeper into me.
Like light.
Like hot pink sunlight.
Hands locked tightly, I lean my shoulders up and kiss like I need to.
I want to devour and be devoured by this earnest, hurtless, natural passion. I want it to swallow me whole.
Helpless little hip-tilts make my own lift just as helplessly. Born for and so fucking sore to give what she seeks, I kiss my girl's mouth wider open and lean my shoulders slowly back until my head is resting again.
Sliding our hands into our pillows, I bend my knees, causing all her gravity to center where mine is.
"You feel so good," I tell her, sliding arms further up while she tries to balance where I'm hardest. "You feel so fucking good, Bella."
Forehead to mine, her weight dips as I raise my hips higher. Knees barely touching our bed, she's cherry-pink cheeked and smiling high between kisses. Breathing together, she tightens our fingers, searches for balance with the sweetest little slides.
"Just like that," I murmur. "Ride, baby," I coax, rocking slowly. "Just ride."
Her lips part as her lids fall. For a few breaths I can't even take, she's all hips.
Innocent bliss.
Pure, soft sex.
Through the haze of waking, I imagine it, being inside her. My heart pours beats, and I rock my hips with painfully patient persistence. I listen to her whole body with all my senses, and I go slowly, but I want her more than everything I've ever wanted put together. I want every breath, every beat, every scar that's too deep to see. I want her without exception, to the most complete degree.
My name keeps starting on her lips, and I want it so much I slow my hips, holding her all the way down.
"Masen," she sing-sighs, small voice fading under barely lifted lashes while she continues to ride.
"Open," I mouth more than whisper. "Open, baby."
Endearingly honest eyes and supple-full lips, bare knees and fingers between mine all hear me, and heed my guidance. Love surrenders to love, and I stroke the tops of her hands with the same slow-motion compulsion that's keeping my hips moving.
She's completely reliant for her next few breaths, and I know she's feeling only me.
Only this moment.
Only loved.
"I'm right here, Bella," I whisper, watching need-filled pupils swell with something unspoken. "Right here, baby."
She blinks, and I wait, still-hips and curved-close fingertips.
"Do you remember coming home last night?" She asks, mostly breath, eyes holding.
My pulse swims. My hips fall and lift again while my focus shifts between now and last night.
I remember waking to her shifting, holding her closer, equally sore to fuck as I was to tuck her into my heart...
Digging deeper, I remember going out with Paul and Mikey, while Bella stayed in, content in a book.
I remember I came back before them, but not before downing an entire handle of sweet tea vodka, and who knows how much apple pie moonshine.
I don't know how I made it upstairs, but I remember kneeling here, waking love the same way she woke me just now.
Palm to palm -
I wanted to try.
I remember her smile and, "You taste like cinnamon apples."
And kissing her, telling her, "You taste like sugar and spice."
I remember her giggle.
And, telling her, "Not really. Not spice. But sugar. And pink. And everything nice."
I remember rolling her on top of me -
"Do you?" Bella asks, so-openhearted eyes, the most hopeful smile and her hands tugging at mine.
She wants to touch my face. I know she does.
Laughing a little, waiting on my memory to further clear, I lean up to kiss, and can't help making her lift.
Short on air, all the way off our bed, Bella giggles. I'm literally holding her up. She's just trying to balance, but I'm beyond fully hard. Every shift and slide covers me with soft, warm pressure.
I free her left hand and it goes straight to my cheek and into my hair. Mine goes to her hip, over shorts I know the feel of and she knows I love. I hold her with equal parts heart and forethought, and what she's asking comes back to me. Not verbatim, but I remember.
It was crude.
And new.
And so fucking true.
Over two years of growing closer, I've said a lot to Bella, and listening is an honor I'm grateful for, even when we're silent. I hear her with my whole heart and I tell her only the truth, and I know my voice grounds her in these so-intimate, almost too-fragile moments, but there's a lot I haven't said, too. There's unmitigated want and inexhaustible need that I've carried quietly because I don't want her to feel like I'm pushing.
Between kisses, my girl smiles, and her breath on my lips intensifies everything. I remember chasing precious trembles with obscene words for longing, kissing under her ear, whispering profane wishes that had her so much closer than ever before.
Watching my eyes, Tulip blushes. Shy and playful, she's so turned on I feel her pulse in her palm.
Brushing my thumb along her hip, sliding my hand up, I trace circles through her blouse, giving her every chance to feel where I am and what I seek. Bit by bit, I untuck her top and slip my hand underneath, around her side, groaning into our kiss when I feel warm-soft, still-so-new-to-me skin.
She makes the sound my heart beats for, and I part our lips. Not to breathe, but because truth is shiftless and bare on my tongue, and I want to give it the same way I want to give every part of myself.
All to love.
"Do you feel me?" I ask, both our lids lifting.
Dark eyes lit with hopeful need, she nods.
"Yeah?" Bringing our hands to the side of her face, I guide her down until I'm surrounded in vanilla sunlight and pink love, needy hope, the most perfect smile, and endless yearning.
She nods again, and I shake my head. Brushing our thumbs to the corner of her mouth, she knows what I want, and opens with a shivering inhale.
"Tell me you feel me, Bella."
"I feel you," she answers, softly desperate. "I feel you."
I smile under beloved little breaths.
"Where, baby?" I ask, helping her move.
She keens, leaning her cheek into our hands. I lower my voice as I lean up and in.
"Where do you feel me, baby?"
"Every-" she breathes. "Everywhere."
My grin grows as she blinks, brows furrowing, bottom lip trembling.
"That's right." I whisper, kissing little furrows and trembles. "Right here." I lift, gripping and shifting so that apprehension is nowhere allowed. "You're all mine, Bella, just mine. Only mine..."
Keening higher, her legs tense with the instinct to open and close and hold.
"Only mine," I promise, swallowing the need to really push and sincerely fuck.
This is more.
I want this so much more.
"Breathe for me." I whisper, edging my hand closer to her stomach. "Slow down, baby. Let me feel you slow down."
"Masen.." Eyes closing and cheeks burning pink, she chases breaths while her hips shake with effort to listen.
"Right here," I whisper. "I'm right here, Bella. Show me you hear me, baby."
Another wave of surrender takes the air from my lungs. I feel her still holding on in her mind, but she's completely physically given over to my guidance. Her whimpers break, sweet and trustful, and if there's a point of no return, this is it.
"There you go," I whisper, emboldened by her trust. I kiss from her lips to her cheek, to her ear. "Slow down, Go slow on my cock, Bella."
The heart of summertime flies so fast, so hard I feel it in my own chest.
"You like when we move like this?" I ask in a lower whisper. "You like feeling how hard you make my cock?"
She nods in my neck, and I move her in tight, heavily slow strokes.
"You like feeling how deeply I need to fuck you, girl?" I kiss under her ear, nuzzling with my nose and digging with my tone. "How deeply I know you need fucked?"
Little Tulip slips into a series of tiny moans and shallow gasps. Made of shaking and riding, she's trying so fucking hard.
I close my fingers between hers carefully tighter.
I want this.
I want this so fucking badly.
"You want more?" I ask, kissing her neck, tensing my arms, flexing strength I know she loves, shifting our hands from her cheek to our hearts. "Take it," I whisper, pushing my whole self up and into her. "All the way down, baby. Take me all the way, Bella. Show me you can..."
Adorably sweet pleas crack along my clavicle. She whimpers freely, desperately close, and I know she needs to come. I want her to, so much, so deeply I can taste it on the back of my tongue like heartbeats and honey, a throatful of soul.
I want to show her what I know this love can do.
Together-hands between our hearts, I press my free hand between her shoulders, aligning my arm down her spine so we're all touch, all contact. With her arm around my neck and fingers clinging to the shirt I slept in, every breath she pants burns hot under my ear while I move her with undeniable encouragement, whispering everything that crosses my so-in-love heart.
"Does that feel good?" I ask, barely audible above breaths and beats. "You like feeling my cock right here?"
Bella nods in my neck, and I hold her to myself, ensuring she feels every word.
"Good girl," I whisper. "So fucking good. Do you need more, baby?"
She nods.
"Open for me. I'll give to you, Bella. Breathe for it. Open, baby. Breathe for me."
She does.
She is.
She's open and breathing just for this. Just for me.
And she's so close.
"You're so open like this, baby. All the way open for me. You need fucked so badly, don't you, Bella?"
She whimpers, clinging and pleading, nodding and riding, and I want to hear it. I want to keep her right here, just like this, and I want her yes like I need my next breath.
"You need me to fuck you?" I ask so quietly. "You need this whole fucking cock, baby?"
My girl nods faster, breathlessly begging with her whole body.
"Open, stay open," I whisper, needing to know her lids are lifted even if I can't see them.
I'm desperate not to lose her.
We're so fucking close.
Just as breathless, I grip her hand to my chest and press her entire body to mine.
"You want me all the way, Bella? You want everything?"
"Yes," is the lightest, softest, barest sound on her lips. It feels just as good in my ears as she does all over me.
"Yeah?" My stomach tightens. "Here?" I ask, pushing irresistibly up into untouched, burning-warm, most-precious sex. "You want my everything right here, baby?"
"Yes," her whisper breaks over the sweetest little note. "Yes. Masen, yes..."
"Inside?" I push harder, deeper, closer. "You want me to come inside you, little Bella?"
"Yes, yes, yes, please, Masen, please -"
She's immeasurably close, and the sound my heart fucking works for sends it out of control.
"Fuck, breathe, baby. Open. Breathe," I whisper, rocking. "I'll give you fucking everything, Bella. I'll give you all of me. Everything, everything..."
I lift higher, showing her.
We're right here together.
"Right here, baby. Come here. Come right fucking here, Bella..."
But it's not up to me.
Or within my reach.
And when the air gets too thin for her to breathe, it's not her fault.
Or mine.
"Easy, baby," I whisper, feeling her panic half a breath before she does. Slowing our rocking, my whole body tenses while I swallow the sting of stopping.
"Easy, slow down, Bella. It's okay, easy, baby, easy..."
But it's too late.
I've lost her to a thousand scars.
Trembling for an entirely different reason, my girl curls in toward herself. Shaking her head and slipping tears, she pushes my shoulder with her free hand, and I turn us onto our sides.
"I'm sorry," she barely breathes as I shift behind her. "I'm sorry. I can't. I can't..."
"It's okay," I whisper, reclasping her hands as I gather her back, wishing so much I could pull love from all the dark I know she's lost in right now.
"You're safe here. It's okay. I'm right here." I surround her with my arms and legs, voice and strength and blankets, all that I am and have and can.
"I'm right here, Tulip," I reassure. "You're mine. Only mine, baby. Only mine."
Small and quiet in her hurt, she lets me hold her while she just weeps.
It's a silence my heart splits and bleeds for.
"Love won't ever hurt you like that, Bella," I promise, holding her wholly close. "Not ever."