11/16/14

I have been here many times before

 “You’re distracting me. I need to sort this, so I can get back to my honeymoon.” He runs an index finger down my face and caresses my chin, tilting my face up.
  I love your distractions.” He kisses the corner of my mouth.
 Grabbing both of my hands , he holds them down on either side of my head while looming over me. I am panting and breathless with laughter. His breathing mirrors mine, and he gazes down at me with . . . what? My lungs stop functioning. Wonder? Love? Reverence? Holy cow. That look!“You. Are. So. Beautiful,” he breathes.
 I stare up at his dear, dear face bathed in the intensity of his gaze, and it’s as if he’s seeing me for the first time. Leaning down, he closes his eyes and kisses me, enraptured. His response is a wake-up call to my libido . . . seeing him like this, undone, by me. Oh my. He releases my hands and curls his fingers around my head and into my hair, holding me gently in place, and my body rises and fills with my arousal, responding to his kiss. And suddenly the nature of his kiss alters, no longer sweet, reverential and admiring, but carnal, deep and devouring—his tongue invading my mouth, taking not giving, his kiss possessing a desperate needy edge. As desire  courses through my blood, awakening every muscle and sinew in its wake, I feel a frisson of alarm .
 He inhales sharply and groans. “Oh, what you do to me,” he murmurs, lost and raw. He moves suddenly, lying down on top of me,pressing me into the mattress—one hand cupping my chin, the other skimming over my body, my breast, my waist, my hip, and around my behind. He kisses me again, pushing his leg between mine, raising my knee, and grinding against me, his erection straining against our clothes and my sex. I gasp and moan against his lips,losing  myself to his fervent passion. I dismiss the distant alarm bells in the back of my mind, knowing that he wants me, that he needs me, and that when it comes to communicating with me, this is his favorite form of self-expression. I kiss him with renewed abandon, running my fingers through his hair, fisting my hands, holding tight. He tastes so good and smells of my...
 Abruptly, he stops, stands up, and pulls me off the bed so that I am standing  in front of him, dazed. He undoes the button on my shorts and kneels quickly, yanking them and my panties down, and before I can breathe again, I am back on the bed beneath him and he’s unbuttoning his fly. Holy cow, he’s not taking off his clothes or my T-shirt. He holds my head and with no preamble whatsoever he thrusts himself inside me, making me cry out—more in surprise than anything else—but I can still hear the hiss of his breath forced through his clenched teeth.
 “Yessss,” he hisses close to my ear. He stills, then swivels his hips once, pushing deeper, making me groan.“I need you,” he growls, his voice low and husky. He runs his teeth along my jaw, nipping and sucking, and then he’s kissing me again, hard. I wrap my legs and arms around him,cradling and holding him hard against me, determined to wipe out whatever’s worrying him, and he starts to move . . . move like he’s trying to climb inside me. Over and over, frantic, primal, desperate, and before I lose myself in the insane rhythm and pace he’s setting, I briefly wonder once more what’s driving him, worrying him. But my body takes over, obliterating the thought, climbing and building so I am awash with sensation, meeting him thrust for thrust. Listening to his harsh breathing, labored and fierce at my ear. Knowing that he’s lost in me . . . I groan loudly, panting. It’s so erotic—his need for me. I am reaching . . . reaching . . . and he’s driving me higher, overwhelming me, taking me, and I want this. I want this so much . . . for him and for me.
 “Come with me,” he gasps, and he rears up over me so I have to break my hold around him.“Open your eyes,” he orders. “I need to see you.” His voice is urgent, implacable. My eyes flicker open momentarily, and the sight of him above me—his face taut with ardor, his eyes raw and glowing. His passion and his love is my undoing, and on cue I come, throwing my head back as my body  purses around him.

He cries and he joins my climax, driving into me, then stilling and collapsing onto me. He rolls over so that I’m sprawled on top of him, and he’s still inside me. As I surface from my orgasm and my body steadies and calms, I want to make some quip about being objectified and oppressed, but hold my tongue, uncertain of his mood. I glance up from his chest to examine his face. His eyes are closed and his arms are wrapped around me, clinging tight. I kiss his chest through the thin fabric of his linen shirt.


 “I give you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, to stand by your side in good times and in bad, to share your joy as well as your sorrow,” I murmur.He freezes. His only movement is to open wide his fathomless eyes and gaze at me as I continue my wedding vows.“I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals and dreams, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, to share my hopes and dreams with you, and bring you solace in times of need.” I pause, willing him to talk to me. He watches me, his lips parted, but says nothing.“And to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.” I sigh.

 He whispers and moves again, breaking our precious contact so that we’re lying side by side. He strokes my face with the back of his knuckles.“I solemnly vow that I will safeguard and hold dear and deep in my heart our union and you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I promise to love you faithfully, forsaking all others, through the good times and the bad, in sickness or in health, regardless of where  life takes us. I will protect you, trust you, and respect you. I will share your joys and sorrows and comfort you in times of need. I promise to cherish you and uphold your hopes and dreams and keep you safe at my side. All that is mine is now yours. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love from this moment on for as long as we both shall live.”Tears spring to my eyes. His face softens as he gazes at me.“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, his thumb catching and dispatching a stray tear.















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