He moves again.
It’s faster now.
The body’s taking over. His mouth. His breath. His hand. His back under my hand. The small soft sounds he’s making at the base of his throat. My name in his mouth.
My hand fists in his hair. My back arches off the mattress. The thread in my belly’s pulling tight, tighter, tighter, and my breath’s coming in short hot gasps I can’t control, and I’mmaking sounds I don’t recognize — small whimpers, half-words, the start of his name and then nothing because I can’t finish it. He’s kissing me everywhere he can reach. His hand has moved to my hip. He’s holding me through it.
I’m not thinking in sentences anymore.
I’m thinking in Blue.
I’m thinking in his mouth on my collarbone. In his breath on my neck. In the small soft repetition of my name. He says my name like a prayer.
I find the edge.
I find it before he does.
The thread pulls so tight it snaps, and it hits me the way I’ve seen in movies, and I’m not ready for the actual hit — the actual hit is bigger, hotter, more, a wave that breaks through my whole body at once and turns my legs to water and my breath to a single high broken sound against his mouth. Blue is holding me through it. His arm is tight under my back. His forehead is pressed to mine. His name on my mouth before I even know I’m saying it.
I fall apart beneath him.
He’s right behind me.
His hand tightens on my hip. His face drops into my neck. He breathes my name against my throat one more time. Mel. Half a word. All breath. Then he goes still.
He stays still for a long time.
His breath’s hot on my collarbone. I can feel his heart hammering against my ribs.
I have my arms around his back. The room’s quiet. Neither of us moves.
I’m so embarrassed, but tears start coming out of my eyes. The aftermath emotion of what we just did is tearing my heart open. And it’s weird because I’m not sad. I’ve never been less sad. I’m full. That’s the word. Full. Like every empty place in me fromwanting this man has been filled up at once, and the only place for the overflow is out of my eyes.
He lifts his head and looks at me. Worry immediately finds his brow.
“What’s wrong?”
I laugh through the tears. I wipe away the tears, trying not to mess up my makeup. “I’m just so happy.”
He smiles, and my world crumbles again. I kiss his teeth, and then I kiss him again because I want more. I need more of him.
He brushes the hair off my forehead and kisses my cheek, inhaling me in. He rolls off me carefully. He keeps one arm under me as he does it, so my head doesn’t lose the pillow.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
He gets up.
I watch him cross the room in nothing.
He’s beautiful and muscular. His legs are built with solid muscle. I watch him while I sit up onto my elbows. He grabs the towel off the back of his door and ties the condom. He drops the condom into the tiny trash bin and walks over to me.
My chest’s still heaving a little. My thighs are still trembling. The space between my hipbones is still tight and warm. I can still feel where his mouth was on my collarbone, where his hand was on my hip, where he was inside me a minute ago. My body’s a brand-new instrument I don’t know how to play yet. Everything’s lit up. Everything’s tender. Everything’s his.
I press my palm flat against my chest over my heart and feel it slow.
He sits on the edge of the bed. He cleans me up with careful motions. I’ve never had this happen before. He’s so gentle. My throat closes.
