I'm standing in the kitchen finally doing the dishes I've put off all day. The baby is down for her nap and the puppies are finally behaving, so I've told myself I might as well get them over with. I've only just opened the dishwasher when the door opens and he walks in. I smile.
"Hey, honey, how was class?" I ask.
He doesn't respond.
Concerned, I turn to look at him, my smile fading when I see the serious look on his face. "Is everything okay?" I ask, concern evident in my voice.
Suddenly he hurries toward me and I step back, surprised at his pace. When he reaches me, one hand grabs my arm and the other the back of my neck, then both pull me to him. Before I realize what is happening, his lips are on mine.
His kiss is tender, sweet, and urgent all at once. It's as though he is trying to display his entire soul to me in that one moment. I kiss him back, my hands reaching up and twisting in his hair. Losing myself in the moment, I let my mouth -- my entire being, really -- open up to him.
An eternity passes all too soon, and he breaks the kiss. He touches his forehead to mine and simply holds me there. After a few long minutes he finally speaks, but his tone is hushed: "I need you, Amber. I love you. I need you. Please."
I have no idea what it is that is driving my lover, but I nod immediately. "I'm yours," I say softly, and the words are barely out of my mouth before he kisses me again.
Suddenly we are in our room, though I have no recollection as to how we got there. His mouth is still on mine, his arms wrapped firmly around me. My own hands are still in his hair, and I feel as though I cannot pull him close enough. Then, all to abruptly, he stops. "No," he says through ragged breaths, "slow." I nod again, my wide eyes searching his face for any indication as to what has him in such a state. I see nothing, only wild lust and a sort of pleading in his eyes.
His hands release me, only to move to the bottom of my shirt. He slips his fingers slowly under the material, pausing to rub the sensitive skin of my waist. I shudder at the light touch.
Staring into my eyes, he lifts the hem slowly upward, revealing my skin an inch at a time. Slowly, he drops down to his knees in front of me and kisses my midriff. He pushes the shirt farther up, pausing every few seconds to plant another kiss on my skin. Finally he stands up again and looks into my eyes. We stare at each other for several moments, and our gaze is only broken when he pulls the shirt up over my head and drops it to the floor.
He takes a deep, shuddering breath, then looks down at my exposed chest and stomach. Touching my shoulders, he silently beckons me to turn around. When I do, he carefully gathers my long brown hair and places it over my left shoulder, leaving the tattoo on my right shoulder exposed. Bending over, he plants a kiss on the tattoo, then slowly leaves a trail of kisses up the side of my neck to my ear. I shudder when he bites the lobe; he knows that area is my weakness.
With steady hands, he undoes the clasps to my bra, then slowly slides the straps off of my shoulders. I let it fall off my body and join my shirt on the floor.