I moved closer to him, my hands traveling down his chest, around to his hips, and he had a sudden, sharp intake of breath that was so simple, raw, and real that it made me smile. It was all simple, really, and we'd spent so much time making it so much more complex than it ever needed to be.
I leaned into him, pushing up on my tiptoes to place a gentle kiss at the base of his jaw. He moaned and his hold on me tightened; I could feel him hard against me, and the sensation was accompanied by a rush of raw desire that would have knocked me over had he not been holding me up.
"I need you inside of me," I whispered. "Right now."
He groaned and took my mouth with his, hard, punishing kisses that spoke to the breaking of restraints we'd both held in place for far too long. Clothes peeled off easily as our need to touch and feel overwhelmed us, and when we fell back onto my bed, there was nothing in the world but the two of us, the one of him. His lips set off explosions under my skin, and I writhed under his touch as he tasted every part of me until my hands gripped his hair as his tongue made me forget everything but the feel of him. I closed my eyes and let it take me. I wasn't worried about anything, not the past, not the future, just this moment now when he was making explosions of color dance behind my eyelids as I moved beneath him. Moments later, we rolled together and he was underneath me and I was taking him inside of me, watching his face as I moved rhythmically, loving what I did to him, the power I had in that moment. He was mine, to do with as I pleased, and this was what I pleased, to see him helpless beneath me as I loved him with everything I had, until there was nothing left of me. Nothing to hold back, nothing to save for later, nothing to do but collapse upon him, my ear to his chest as we both gasped for air. His arms tightened around me and he kissed the top of my head, and I listened as his heartbeat drummed out the chant. Mine-mine, mine-mine ...
Mine.
We shifted to lie side by side and fell into an exhausted sleep, the peaceful darkness of his naked embrace keeping me from having to deal with my pressing reality until about a half-hour later, when I opened my eyes to find him propped up on one elbow, watching me.
"Don't say it," I said.
"What?" He reached for my hand and kissed my fingertips.
"I can see the gears working in your brain." I snuggled up next to him, nuzzling his bare chest with my nose, loving the solid, manly scent of him, wanting to remember it forever, however long that was. "If you start thinking, we'll lose this, and I'm not ready for that."
He held me to him, running his fingers down my side, kissing my forehead, my face, my shoulder. I could feel him hardening next to me, but when I reached for him, he took my hand in his and pulled it to his chest.
"Stop," he said, his voice coarse and breathy. "I can't think when you do that."
"No thinking," I said. "Please. Not yet."
He opened his eyes and focused on me, and despite my pleas, I could see the pieces coming together for him, the worry creeping in.
"What's your plan?" he asked, and I sighed and pulled back from him. Quietly, I gathered our clothes from the floor, passing his to him. Once we were both dressed, I sat on the edge of the bed and said, "You should go now."
"Wow." He let out a sharp laugh, but there was nothing happy in his tone. "Give me a minute to process the whiplash."
"You know how I feel about you," I said softly. "You know that was all real. It's just that now ... it's over. And you should go."
He got up off the bed and stood before me. "Yeah? Why?"
I looked at him, then pushed up off the bed and stepped away from him; the closer I was to him, the more it hurt, and I'd made up my mind. There was no point in making it any harder than it already was.
"You know why," I said.
"I want to hear it from you."
"It's my decision,