“It would probably help,” I say, amused yet cautious.
“Breathe in through your nose.”
I take a long pull and then he says, “Push the air out through your mouth slowly, counting to seven.”
When I release the breath, he inches further inside of me. I follow up with more breaths, grimacing, writhing, but breathing like he told me to.
“There you go,” he says softly.
A soft moan escapes my lips. I squeeze his biceps and brace myself. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.
“You okay?”
“Ye-yes, I’m okay.”
“Good,” he says, moving, gripping me tight. “Now quit all that…acting like you ain’t used to this.”
“It’s been a minute, Brix.”
“Yeah, I can tell, but I’ma fix all that, baby. I miss making love to you – being inside of you. I miss you, Cyn. How in the world did I let eleven months go by without you?”
Every time he moves, he stretches me, awakening all the nerves that were once dormant. They’re very much alive now – alive and teeming with feeling.
The wetness of my lips touches his when I say, “I don’t know how I went for eleven months without you, Brix.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now, sweetheart. Let’s make up for lost time,” he says as he allows his weight to fall on top of me. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on while he moves, retreats and reenters me over and over again.
“Ahhh, mmm,” I moan, letting the feeling of our connection completely overtake and consume me.
“You feel so good, Cyn. I’ve missed this so much. If you think this distance between us is going to happen again, you may as well think again, because I ain’t never giving you up, you hear me?”
“Mmm. Hmm.”
“Words, Cyn. Use words.”
“Okay. Ye-yes. Yes, I hear you.”
“No more walking out of my life. We’re working everything out going forward. You hear me? Look at me while I’m talking to you, girl.”
I open my eyes, feeling everything – every move, every nerve. His skin. His heat.
“You hear me?” he asks again.
“Yes, Brix. I hear you.”
He moves slowly, rolling his well-exercised body over me, making me squeeze him tighter, holding on for this ride. The way he feels, the motion inside me, the way he grips and holds on to me like he’s afraid of losing me is doing a number on my sanity. And when I feel that first rumble of nerves ball up,waiting to explode and send me soaring, I squeeze him tighter. As the sensation builds, I rock my hips to keep up with him.
“Brix…” I say as the pleasure mounts. As he takes over my body until I scream.
He’s right there with me, groaning as his body seizes on top of me.
Three o’clock inthe morning, we’re up again, tearing up the sheets, messing up the bed. It’s a good thing his parents are in the guest bedroom on the other side of the house, but by the way we’re carrying on, that probably doesn’t matter. The sturdiness of this bed is being tested in a way that it never has before, and so is my back. Brix has never been like this – never been the type to fully take control. To make love to me like his life depended on it. He’s always been careful. Walking the straight line of discipline and obedience.
Not anymore.
He’s recklessly tamed. And strong. He’s a man who’s coming into his own. It just happened a little later in life.
“Ah,” he grunts, then grins wickedly while lying on his back, scooping me into his arms. “I would apologize for being rough, but I think you liked it.”
