And vulnerable.
And sharing without censoring himself. For a few seconds, we hold each other’s gaze.
The temperature in the room heats. The air between us shimmers with so many emotions, my breath catches. Why do I feel both happy, but also so unguarded? Why does what happened between us feel so monumental?
He must read some of the conflicting thoughts, for he brings his hand back to my cheek. "You okay?"
I nod. "I was wondering why we're on the couch?"
"As opposed to…?"
"The big bed upstairs."
I run my fingers through his thick hair and tug.
A rumbling sound from the back of his throat makes me weak. This man is so alpha, so male, I simply want to lick him up, then ask him to fuck me all over again.
Again, he seems to guess what’s on my mind for he shakes his head. "No more fucking, not tonight."
"What?" I pout.
"You’re sore." He cups my pussy.
"I’m fine. The painkiller you gave me earlier worked like magic. I feel amazing." I push up into his pelvis and rub up against the column of his cock.
He shudders. The planes of his chest ripple. Then he sets his jaw. "You’re testing me. But I’m not giving in on this one."
"Oh, boo." I turn down my lips. "You’re no fun."
He chuckles, then lowers his chin and kisses me. "I’ll make it up to you, I promise." Then he rolls off and adjusts us, so I’m stretched out with my head on his shoulder.
He grabs the throw from the back of the sofa and places it over me. "Cozy?"
My insides tremble at the gesture. He’s taking care of me again. Making sure I’m warm and protected and safe. It’s like he’s wrapped meup, not in the throw, but in his tenderness, his attention, which I pull around myself like cashmere.
I could get used to this.
I snuggle into the blanket.
"Are we going to watch a movie?" I glance toward the massive flat screen taking up most of the opposite wall.
He picks up a remote from the side table and presses a button. He navigates to a well-known streaming service, then hands it over to me. "You choose."
My breath hitches.
Until now, our relationship felt structured. Distant, even. We went to work, came home, had a nightcap, and went to bed.
He was gradually thawing toward me, but there had been little softness between us. No real warmth.
But this. Him taking care of me. It changes everything.
It feels intimate. Personal. Weird and delightful, and every dream I never let myself finish having. It’s also destabilizing enough to make me wonder if I am going to wake up and find none of it was real.
This is not just sweet. It's scary.
I didn't think I could fall further for him. But my pulse is knocking against every point in my body, my blood is running hot, and I know, I'm closer than I ever intended to get.
Not with the ghost of what we could have been, but with the solid, undeniable proof of what he is when he shows up for me.
