I had just finished sobbing into his arms for what felt like the millionth time. He was so patient with me, always just letting me cry my heart out and tell him these horrible stories. His arms were tense; it must be torture for him to have to listen to my trauma night after night. He cares about me so much, and he's so protective, I can tell that it has an effect on him, but he puts up such a strong front.
I propped myself up on the bed, readjusting my weight so I could rest my head on his shoulder. He squeezed me into a hug, and I wrapped my arm around his waist and let my mind wander. I started to tentatively move my fingers over his stomach, tracing soft little patterns, surreptitiously bunching the cotton shirt up enough to expose a patch of skin. I snaked my arm back around his waist, my fingers magnetized to touch his skin, innocently using it as an opening to slide my hand under his shirt.
"Why are you so nice to me?"
His eyebrow and lip quirked in unison for only a moment before the good-natured laugh I'd fallen in love with spilled out.
"I'm not nice, Anna; I'm just in love with your head, your eyebrows, your nose, your lips..."
Every word was accompanied with a gentle brush of his fingers against the spot.
"Honestly, baby; you should spend more time looking in the mirror."
My face felt flush. I impulsively tucked it into his shoulder, letting my hair cascade around it and form a privacy curtain for my smile. He brushed it aside and lifted my head up by my chin.
"Don't ever hide yourself from me--"
I interrupted his lecture by kissing him. Soft and tentative to gauge his reaction. When he kissed me back, matching my pace, I slid my hand all the way under his shirt and squeezed his lower back. We paused, not moving our heads away, our lips almost touching, trading breath. I furrowed my brows.
"I don't remember the last time that I've been kissed. I don't know if I'm even any good--"
"You're perfect."
He ended his sentence with his lips covering mine, coaxing me into a deeper kiss that took my breath away. I let my hands explore his skin under his shirt, while his hands never left my neck, supporting me like I was going to shatter under his weight. I leaned back further, pulling him closer to me, rolling my hips so I'd be flat on my back and he'd end up on top of me. I started to pull off his shirt, and he stopped me, our legs intertwined on the bed, but stopping himself just short of being on top of me. He held my chin and made me meet his stare.
"Anna, I don't want to take advantage of you. Are you sure that you want this?"
I made a grab for his shirt again and grabbed my wrist, holding it tightly for a moment before realizing his strength and loosening his grip.
"Anna, I need to know that you want this. Tell me."
"I want this!"
My voice came out with a tinged with whine. He smiled and took his shirt off and let me pull him into more kissing. We were grinding into each other, his erection pushing against me. He kissed me until I had my fill, letting me savor this gentle affection until I started kissing harder, thirsty for more, needy. He sat up, catching his breath, pushing my shirt up.
"Tell me that you want this."
"Oh My Go-- I want this! I want this!"
He chuckled.
