Cancer

"Zackary." The word hung in the air, heavy, languid. His voice seemed a bit hoarse as he searched my face as if asking if it was enough, if he was enough. It suited him, I decided, and whispered, eyes locked with his...

"You're beautiful, Zack" palms raising to run over his face, smoothing the worry lines from around his forehead and eyes and slipping down to cup his cheek and then wander slowly toward his neck. He immediately nuzzled my hand like a kitten, pressing toward my touch.

Unbuttoning the final button on his shirt, I slipped it from his shoulders and threw it on the chair beside the bed, hearing the material slide to the floor and end up on the carpet. I knelt down between his knees, eyes never leaving him. "I want to make love to you. The way you should have been made love to all this time..." and I planted a soft kiss in the middle of his chest, feeling his heart race beneath his pale skin. I could feel his arousal starting, poking just below my breasts as I pressed my lips over and over to his chest, finally running my tongue gently around his nipple, then lapping it with the flat of my tongue, over and over and over. I saw him just stare at me, his breath coming faster now as I pressed my body closer to his and squirming just slightly against his zipper. It felt so good, but I wanted to pretend this was all about him, that my needs just didn't matter...and so I ignored the heat zinging through my veins and continued my slow decent down his torso, stopping to pay special attention to the scar that stood out against his soft skin.

"Don't kiss that. Please? It's ugly...please don't..." he uttered, covering it with his hands, then doubling his arms over his chest. Gently I took his hands in mine and kissed them...each knuckle in turn then turned one over and kissed his wrist, again tasting the pulse that made my own leap.

"It's part of you...and it's what brought you here. That scar saved your life, Zack. Without it I wouldn't be here with you...and you couldn't be here with me." Moving his hands away, I kissed it again, feeling him tense and then relax, his hands going to my hair and lightly stroking it, making me whimper a little bit without meaning to. This was about him. This was about him. I kept telling myself that over and over as the fire shot up my stomach with every light caress of his hands.

When my mouth reached just above the buckle of his belt I stopped and leaned back. His hands hurriedly went to the buckle and I once again pushed them away. "No. Me" was all I had to say. He looked a little sheepish as I pulled him up from the bed to stand before me. The scent of his skin was overwhelming to my senses, but barely distinguishible from the smell of my own vanilla soap and I breathed in deeply, once again watching his face for any sign of discomfort or unwillingness. In all this, I still expected him to run from me...from my touch...

He smiled gently as my fingertips made short work of his belt buckle, sliding the leather out of the loops on his pants with a soft hissing noise. My eyes never left him. They were all I needed to see. I was eager to see his body, but I couldn't drag my gaze away from those eyes...

Running one finger down his chest I took the button of his pants in the other hand, then let my hands work together to slide it from the buttonhole and softly unzip the offensive material. I wanted him naked so much I was almost shaking, but I kept telling myself that slow was better. He needed to be gentled, like a wounded animal. I saw that fear in his eyes mixed with something I dared not even think about.

Pushing his pants down around his knees I urged him to sit back down on the bed and knelt again to untie his shoes and remove them and his socks, finally pulling his pants completely off and rising to toss them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He simply sat there, boxer shorts rising up to show me his thighs, but nothing else.

I stood before him, putting my heel-clad foot up onto the bed beside him and unbuckled it, one foot and then the other, replacing my foot beside him once again to slowly strip the thigh-high stocking from my left leg. As soon as it was off I felt his hand slide up the front of my leg and then to the lower part of my thigh. I removed my leg quickly, shivering at his touch and again reminded myself of my goal for the evening. It seemed that any touches from him drove me too wild...I was going to have to keep it together. I thought I could-- if I could just keep him from touching me back too much, but God how I ached to feel his hands on me...

Removing the other stocking I turned my back to him. "I think you promised to be of assistance with the zipper on my dress...." I said, with a little bit of humor in my voice.

"Oh, yeah, that's right" he muttered, rising and unzipping my dress slowly, taking his time. The warmth from his hands shot through me from the other side of the black material and I turned quickly toward him. "Thanks." I pushed him back down slowly onto the bed and unhooked the metal collar around my neck that held my dress together and let it fall onto the floor, exposing my black lingere set.

I wished he would stop looking at me. I'm not beautiful and I'm absolutely not a cover girl. There was, as far as I could see, nothing to stare at...but stare he did. Taking in my breasts, straining beneath the strapless black silk material, then letting his gaze slide down further to my panties and my thighs. I got suddenly uncomfortable when he started to speak and shushed him, leaning down to kiss his lips lightly.

"Crawl up on the bed, Zack." I muttered, and he obliged nicely. I could tell he wondered what I wanted, what was going to happen to him, since he'd put himself at my mercy. "Roll over."

"What?!" It was as loud as his voice had been in the last twenty minutes and I realized he was having horrible visions in his head. "Just trust me" I said gently, touching his shoulder and urging him to roll. He did so a bit reluctantly and as his arms went up to cradle beneath his head I smiled at him and joined him on the bed, sitting directly on his lower back. My hands went to work naturally, rubbing up and down his back, not hard enough to be really called a massage, but lightly, leaving my fingerprints on his warm skin over and over before reaching down to kiss the base of his neck, letting my chest press against the middle of his back as I did so.

I felt a shiver run through him, like he had been shocked, and I kissed again. Again I felt his body shudder slightly and heard him exhale in a long, low groan. My lips traced the base of his neck toward his shoulder and I kissed every inch, back and forth, back and forth in rows. Inch by inch covering the skin of his shoulders in a grid...line after line of tiny little kisses, soft and quiet. Could he feel my warm breath? Could he feel how much this was turning me on?

Again I reminded myself...calm down...this is NOT for you...although I'd have been lying to myself if I didn't admit that he tasted so clean and male...that the slightly salty tinge of his skin sent surges through me and made my face flush and my nipples harden.

I sat up gently and slipped out of my bra, without him even knowing and gently laid it on the floor in a pretty quick motion before I went back to the grid of his back....back and forth, not pressing my chest to him until I had kissed so low, just below his shoulder blades, that I had to scoot down a little, over his gorgeous ass to sit on his thighs.

When I began where I had left off, kissing his back and flicking my tongue over his skin, I pressed my breasts into the small of his back and heard him gasp as warm flesh met warm flesh. I had trouble not gasping myself, and held it to a tiny intake of breath. "Oh my God" escaped from my lips without me even knowing it was rising in my throat. He just groaned again and moved his lower back against me a little, as if to make sure he was right.

I continued again, kissing down his back, then felt his legs tense a little bit. I realized that he was getting uncomfortable in that position, and didn't want to say anything to break the moment. I raised my right knee gently and slid it in between his, sitting straddling his left leg without a thought, settling the silk of my panties on the back of his knee. Would he notice that it was growing damp? A split second later I had my answer.

"Oh my God. You're wet." The words ground out of his throat but felt like they came from much farther down as he squirmed to adjust himself against the bed. At that point I absolutely couldn't refrain anymore and pressed my body harder against the back of his knee. "You're so sexy, baby. Of course I am..."

His voice was muffled against the bed and I heard him ask "But how? I have not done anything."

"You don't have to 'do' anything" I whispered. "Just the taste of you...the feel of your skin..." and I let the words trail off into the warmth of his skin as I began to kiss again, just at the top of his boxers, tasting the small of his back.

I groaned as I pulled myself from his body, the silk of my panties soaking as I deliberately slid them across his thigh as I stepped off the bed.

"What are you doing?" he muttered.

"Turn over, Zack...."