At first I'd thought that having to take time off work and stay home to 'recuperate' would be awful. The more time I spent with Tim, the more we would find to argue about. But the past two weeks had been oddly blissful with most of it spent lounging on the sofa reading all the journals and novels that I never usually had time to. Tim would periodically make me tea and would alternate between rubbing my feet and my temples.

When I first knew him I had never even thought that he would be this caring, to the point where it bordered on irritating. I knew it was difficult on him too, not least because of how much he craved sex. He would sit sideways in the armchair with his legs dangling from one arm of the seat and his head stretched back over the other making idle chat with me which would always turn into something flirtatious.

I could tell he was testing the water to gauge how long it would be before I had the strength to resume our lovemaking. I had always been under the impression that I was the one in the relationship who had a higher sex drive but evidently I was wrong about him again.

Each time the conversation steered into something sensual I would look at him with such longing, desperate to feel him again but I knew I would cause myself to be injured for longer if I didn't restrain myself now.

Having always been used to getting up early it was a surprisingly nice change to sleep late and get out of bed whenever I saw fit, usually to some form of brunch that Tim had made for me. I would sip at my coffee and read the paper from the day before with Tim's feet in my lap.

He was working on his new novel, the first was in the process of being brought into shops and I couldn't help but feel pride in his success. He spent a lot of time vacantly staring into space as I suppose most writers must do.

He sat across from me now, the usual faraway look on his face. He wore nothing but his boxers, clearly thinking I didn't realise his plans to seduce me. I would humour him for now, give him some form of victory.

"What are you reading," he asked.

"National Geographic," I replied with a smirk owing to the bright yellow cover and bold lettering.

"I know," he laughed, rolling his eyes. "I mean what are you reading about?"

"Inca tribes."

"Wow, fascinating," he said sarcastically.

"It is," I replied, going back to my reading.

I could sense him pouting at me.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mmm, fine."

He stretched out on the armchair and stuck his chest out a little.

It was when I looked up a minute or two later that I realised what he was doing.

"Mmmmm, Ivo," he moaned, one hand down his boxers and his eyes closed in blissful content.

I had to close my mouth and my throat felt dry.

"Hnngh, yes, yes," he panted, opening his eyes to give me a look that was sure to send us both straight to hell.

"Shit, Tim," I said heavily, watching him with rapt attention.

He whined at me, becoming more frantic.

"Ivo, please," he half begged. "Please, I can't take it anymore."

I pushed myself from the sofa and knelt in front of him, pulling his legs around so that they rested on my shoulders.

He gave a wide grin and rested back into the fabric, ready to be pleasured.

"Mmmm, like that, yeah."

His hips moved up and down as I moved my lips on him.

"Let's have sex," he giggled as he stroked my hair and I pulled off him.

"You know I want to but I can't, not yet."

"Come on Ivo, you won't have to do anything," he said excitedly. "Please."

I gave in and nodded, stopping him when he clambered on top of me on the floor.

"At least let me have the comfort of the bed," I laughed and Tim blushed.

"Sorry," he mumbled before giving me a hand up and leading us both down the hall.