A/N FicFriend; thank you so much, for the review and the ideas...yeah Liv's flirting is pretty full on but I quite like the fact that she is, she's trying to rediscover the woman she was before, and I do believe that she probably wasn't particularly shy...I like that she may still be healing but that she doesn't feel she has to change who she was, and that she doesn't have to be shy or timid...I think its evidence of how far she has come...I'm glad you liked the flower shop, I liked the idea...but wasn't sure if it was too much...I do believe it's something he would probably do because in a lot of ways he is an old fashioned guy, he got some of his ideas from his Abuela I reckon...
MrsChilton; Thank you so much...he would feel lucky to have her...he's an odd mix of shy and confidently brazen and I like to play with that...hope I can continue to brighten a few more days...
Intala; always thank you...
This made me think of "Chanter pour ceux(Sing for those)" by Lââm, I know that songs don't translate perfectly from one language to another, but I've tried to translate the lines with a view to keeping the sense also...it never flows as easily in translation but I think the images and feelings are clear even though it's not as pristine...
I feel bad that a fantasy about the woman lying in bed beside him, can make him feel so guilty. He shouldn't have to be having unfulfilled fantasies about someone in the same bed...he should have been able to just reach over to me, to tell me what he wanted to do, to do what he was imagining...
We're both adults...it shouldn't be like this.
But yet I suppose it was nearly inevitable...the fantasy and the guilt...
I've seen this before, caused this...pain...before...I need to do things differently this time, I need to do better...
He spoke to Fin, which can't have been easy, but he did it...and that gave him the courage to speak to me...I feel so much better that he doesn't have to shoulder all of this alone...
Every development that has the power to drive us apart, is just succeeding in bringing us closer together.
This man is incredible...he can make me feel truly feminine, he can bring me flowers, make me feel protected, adored even, but yet never does it feel controlling, never do I feel weakened.
I feel so at ease, as I lie in his arms now.
We have eaten a delicious meal, laughing as we sat on the floor of my living room. As I eyed the huge plate of creamy pasta, I realized how messy it was likely to end up and slid to the floor to make better use of the table. He laughed at the image of me sitting cross legged on the floor under candle light, but moved down beside me... feeding me tastes of what he had chosen...it felt so...comfortable, so...sexy...
I am already excited at the prospect of what the rest of the night may bring...
The feelings that so surprised me, only a few short days ago, don't really ever seem to leave me when I'm in his presence...they just seem to strengthen at some points before dropping back to what has become their normal baseline...I feel like a woman again...
I can't help the thoughts of how his hands would feel, touching the parts of me, I couldn't envisage letting anyone near, only that same few, short, days ago...I feel a stab of guilt, as I wonder does he fantasize about the same things that I do? Does he imagine the same things that my mind keeps conjuring up? I really want to ask him what he was fantasizing about this morning, as I lay beside him, but it feels too personal, too private...and too teasing when I'm not sure if I'm offering to fulfill it...
My own words surprise me... 'I'm not sure if I'm offering to fulfill it'...wow, when did I go from 'I'm not ready', to that possibility?
As I lie here, feeling his arms around me, I can't deny that I really seem to have made that jump. And not just physically...I am spending more and more time considering the prospect of taking him into my bed properly, of taking him into my body...
The fear of my body feeling numb, or worse, feeling pain, as he pushed into me, has been replaced by increasingly detailed fantasies of how good his touch would feel, how pleasurable it would be to feel my body welcome him into me, how his tongue might feel...the now, familiar warmth builds again deep inside of me. I know my body is starting to prepare itself for what it wants, and I'm willing to admit to seriously considering the possibility of allowing things to progress substantially, if not to their inevitable conclusion, as I take his hand in mine, leading him to my bedroom.
He is definitely not unwilling, but I still see a concerned, question in his eyes as I push him to sit on my bed, I slip into the bathroom returning with my favorite perfumed lotion. He smiles as he sees the ornate bottle.
"I seem to remember you promising to help me apply lotion to my back..." I whisper, lighting some small candles, and returning to the living room for the vanilla scented candle he brought me. I place it on the bedside table before I gently push his legs apart with my knee and step between them. My arms rest comfortably on his shoulders as I pull him to me...
His arms wind around my waist in return, as my head drops down and our lips meet.
He watches me carefully, silently seeking my consent, as his fingers tease the hem of my shirt up slightly, they trace lightly, across my stomach, barely above the waistband of my jeans.
I sigh at the gentle touch, and don't try to hide my desire for more, as he slowly moves his head to the flesh his fingers have just touched. As his lips place a small kiss on the bare skin of my stomach, I can't stop another contented sigh escaping my lips. He allows his hands to slide up my sides and looks to me for permission...
I pull his lips to mine, allowing my silent tongue to make my feelings clear.
When we pull apart, his lips immediately trace the path of his hands up my body. I feel more like the woman I was, as I stand there reveling in his attentions, and his mouth moves ever closer to my chest. I impatiently reach for the hem of my shirt but he gently stops me, giving me a smirk-y scowl.
He returns his mouth to my skin, starting again, nearly at the waistband of my jeans, kissing and licking his way up, he doesn't allow my bra to impede him as he continues his trail up between my breasts, just pushing my shirt gently up before him. As he reaches the top of my cleavage he allows my shirt to fall down to its previous position as he stands, softly, pulling the neck line of the fabric down a little to continue where he left off. His trail continues up my neck and by the time he claims my lips, my whole body is alive...
'Je veux chanter pour ceux
(I wanna sing for those)
Qu'on oublie peu à peu
(that forget little by little)
Et qui gardent au fond d'eux
(and who keep deep inside themselves)
Quelque chose qui fait mal
(something that hurts them)'
His hands snake under the shirt again, and he silently asks for permission to remove it, by sliding the fabric up my skin before his hands...his eyes searching mine...I gladly raise my arms for him.
I can't help the smile that graces my lips as I consider how two can play at that game, as I begin to return the teasing, but oh so pleasant, favor, by trailing a few kisses down his neck, he pulls away smiling, trying to look innocent...
"I wouldn't want you to get lotion all over your shirt either..." I tell him and he can only smirk back at me as I push him back down to sit at the edge of my bed...
I slowly unbutton his shirt, tracing a single finger lightly down the center of his chest, down his stomach to the waistband of his jeans as his shirt falls open.
I lean over theatrically, showing him the sexy, patterned fabric of my bra as I push the shirt down his arms. I specifically chose this underwear today because I like how I feel in it, it shows my chest off perfectly and I know it is sexy; with its black lace detail and patterned semi-opaque cups. I can see he approves of my choice, as his eyes seem glued to the cleavage in front of him. Again he looks to me before he allows his hands to softly cup my bra covered breasts, as his mouth places soft kisses on the bare flesh peaking out of the top of the cups. I can feel his fingers stroking my nipples as his tongue traces along the flesh side of the lace detail. As I reach back and unhook the bra, I can see him swallow deeply as I let it fall to the ground. He leans his head towards my chest, again seeking my consent before taking a nipple into his mouth.
He is skillfully playing my body...he seems to be studying what I'm responding to and what draws moans from me. I'm beginning to loose any lingering doubts I may have had about allowing this to continue, all the way...my body is making its feelings clearer and clearer and I feel safe with him, with every movement he is confirming he would never hurt me as he seeks my consent...
This feels...like it used to...uncomplicated...pleasurable...
'Qui ne veut plus jamais sourire'
(Who doesn't want to ever smile)
He stands up, kissing me passionately, "I believe I promised you a massage and to rub some lotion onto your back?", he says grabbing the lotion bottle and gesturing for me to lie down. His voice is thick, deep and so sexy...
I lie down on my stomach, my head turned so I can see him kneeling beside me, I pull my hair aside twisting it carelessly, out of his way. He starts rubbing lotion into my back, his fingers stroking, his palms kneading my flesh deliciously. It feels amazing... I can see he is unwilling to sit across my body without me explicitly inviting it, "Oh my god, that feels amazing Rafael,..." I gasp as any tension melts away at his tender touch, "... it's ok, you can move across me..."
He rises up on his knees, watching me, as he moves one knee over my legs. He straddles me carefully, I can feel he is trying not to allow his own arousal to rub against me... "It's ok Rafael...you won't scare me..." As he continues to massage my skin, I can feel him pressing slightly against my lower back, I know he has moved a little, to ensure that I don't feel his hardness pressing against anywhere that might be too much, but I find I'm slightly disappointed. I'm very grateful for the thought, but I miss the anticipated sensation.
After he has deliciously, massaged my back and arms, I start to turn over, and he quickly moves off me. Lying on my back now I take his hand pulling him back over me, squeezing more lotion onto his hands, I gesture for him to continue his massage. He is much more careful of his position, now, as he moves up my body a little and tries to keep his body off mine. He starts to massage my arms, first down from my shoulder to my wrist then back up before moving to the other arm, then he massages up and down my sides moving across my stomach.
As my hands reach for my belt he moves back quickly, trying to still my hands...
"Liv..."
I take the hands he is using to still mine and place them on the buckle instead...he doesn't move, looking to me carefully, "Are you sure Liv?"
I nod, smiling at him, as he carefully undoes the buckle, pulling it from my pants as I raise my back off the bed for him. He pulls me up to kiss him as I reach down and open the button and zip on my jeans before he can stop me, "Take them off me, Rafael?" I whisper as my teeth lightly nip down his neck.
He looks at me again, as moves down the bed. His fingers dip into the waistband of the jeans slowly pulling them down, as I lift up for him.
We watch each other as he peels the jeans down my legs. As his eyes move, to pull them over my feet, I can clearly see the desire on his face and the bulge in his pants. He again looks to me for permission, before he starts to trace kisses up my leg. He kisses my ankle, his tongue and fingers moving up to my knee, getting half way up my thigh before switching to my other leg.
I sit up, pulling him to me as I kiss him deeply. "Rafael, I'm in control...I want this..." I tell him reaching for his belt.
"Liv this feels very fast...maybe we should slow down..." he takes my hands in his...
"Don't you want me?" I ask him slightly confused...
"God Liv, it's not that, you can see how much I want you...You're so beautiful..." he says as his hand softly rubs my hip. He licks his lips and I can see he wants this as much as me, as his eyes unconsciously scan my body...all that I'm wearing now are a pair of black lace and patterned underwear.
I can hear the distinct shift in his breathing as I pull him down beside me, and take his mouth back to mine. Our hands wandering freely, as we continue to kiss and explore the new found flesh.
As he leans across my body from his position beside me, his lips sucking my nipple back into his mouth while his fingers work the other, I start to wonder if this is the pleasure he can give me like this, what will sex with him be like? I can see from the bulge in his pants that he is not small, but instead of scaring me, I can feel my body react positively. I rub my had down his chest, down his stomach and down his crotch...my fingers stroke his hardness softly and I'm sure I can feel him twitch...
"Liv...stop..." I can barely hear the words he croaks out.
He takes my hands in his, "No...I want to pleasure you before we ever get there..."
"You are pleasuring me Rafael..."
"No Liv, I want you to show me how you like to be touched, I want you to show me where you like to be touched, I want to pleasure you with my mouth, my fingers...I want to see you orgasm...before we go there..." he says gesturing to his own pants.
I try to pull him onto me, kissing him again, allowing my lips and tongue to say what my voice can't but as I pull him over, his balance is lost and he moves his knee between mine and his hand lands on the other side of my body and everything changes...a gasp escapes my mouth but it sounds like the moans he has been drawing from my lips, and he starts to trace his tongue down my neck.
I can only squeeze my eyes closed, as the body on top of me becomes Lewis, the very barest, glancing touch of his hardness against me, becomes Lewis', pressing into me, demanding, threatening. My breathing hitches and the tears start to flow before I can even register what is going on.
I don't know what it is that alerts him, but all of a sudden I can hear his panicked voice..."Liv...it's ok...Liv..."
He seems to instinctively know to move off me, as he tries to ground me telling me I'm safe.
'Où qu'ils aillent
(wherever they go)
Ils sont tristes à la fête
(they're sad at a party)
Où qu'ils aillent
(wherever they go)
Ils sont seuls dans leur tête
(they're alone in their head)'
As his body pulls away, I feel the cold air on my almost naked body and wrap my arms around my shivering chest.
He takes my hand, continuing to talk to me softly, trying to reassure me, but unable to completely hide the panic in his voice.
He quickly leans down onto the floor, picking up his shirt, lightly wrapping it around my shoulders to help me feel less vulnerable, but regardless of his constant soothing words, it's Lewis' arm reaching across me, and I flinch away from him, greedily, grabbing the fabric around me.
He kneels up, moving slowly, carefully, so he is slightly below knee level with my hunched body. He lays his hand open on the bed beside me for when I am able to take it as he continues to remind me I am safe, I'm at home in my apartment, in my bed, no one is going to hurt me...
His words are starting to break through the fear-induced haze, as I slip my arms into the shirt I have clasped around me, and my shaking hands manage to do up a few buttons. The shirt smells of Rafael and I slowly start to calm, reaching for the hand that lies beside me, as my other hand still grasps the shirt to my body. He quickly folds the loose bedclothes over me a little, to cover me better.
He says nothing as I slow my breathing down, shakily clasping onto his hand, only softly reassuring me that I'm ok, I'm safe, every time I look to him.
'Qui a volé leur histoire
(who stole their story)
Qui a volé leur mémoire
(who stole their memory)
Qui a piétiné leur vie
(who trampled all over their life)
Comme on marche sur un miroir
(as one would walk on a mirror)
Celui-là voudra des bombes
(that one may wish to blow up)
Celui-là comptera les jours
(that one may count off the days)
En alignant des bâtons
(by arranging sticks)
Comme des barreaux d'une prison
(like the bars of a prison)'
Eventually when I look to him, and he says again, "It's ok Liv, you're ok...you're safe, nobody is going to hurt you, I'm not going to hurt you..."I nod at him tightly, pulling the bedclothes and then the shirt tighter to me.
His eyes never leave me. His hand is holding mine tightly, his thumb stroking between my thumb and finger softly.
I feel exhausted, embarrassed, confused, ...devastated, as I look into the green eyes watching me. I had been doing so well, I had made so much progress, I could nearly feel what his touch, his tongue would feel like where I wanted it most...
Again the tears tumble out, and the hand holding, comforting, attentive, presence is too much.
"I need some space...please..."
I can see him struggle, wanting to obey my wishes but also not wanting to leave my side. He moves off the bed carefully, gently sitting into the chair on the other side of the small room.
I shake my head "Please Rafael..."
He nods his head tightly, reluctantly forcing himself to the door, "I'll check on you in 15 minutes?"
Again I shake my head, "an hour..." not even remotely sure that I will be ready to talk to him then...
I can see him try to swallow his tears as he nods reluctantly, "I'm just in the living room..." pulling the door closed behind...
As the door clicks closed I can't hold the desperate sobs back any longer, knowing he can hear me, but powerless to contain them for even one second more.
'Je veux chanter pour ceux
(I want to sing to those)
Qui sont loin de chez eux
(who are far from home)
Et qui ont dans leurs yeux
(and have in their eyes)
Quelque chose qui fait mal
(something that hurts them)
Qui fait mal
(that hurts them)
Je veux chanter pour ceux
(I want to sing to those)