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He held his breath, taking in the long sweep of her back, her artfully formed shoulders, as she bent to slip off her shoes and jeans.
Her waist was narrower than the last time he’d seen her naked, but the flare of her hips was still there, the swell of her ass leading to shapely thighs and calfs. Her hair shimmered, tempting him to go to her, pull it aside, lower his mouth to the back of her neck.
He forced himself to stay put. She was shedding the layers that had kept them apart, doing it her way, the way she did everything.
She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, then threw it on top of the growing pile of clothes on his bedroom floor. His cock, already erect, became painfully hard as she removed her underwear, baring the full glory of her naked body.
He waited, both to savor the view, to bask in the vision he’d been forced to carry in his mind for the past four years, and also because deep down, he was still afraid. Afraid she would change her mind, that she would pull on her clothes and leave him with the pain that had grown all too familiar.
She turned to face him and he sucked in his breath at the sight of her breasts, her pink nipples hard, her belly soft and begging for his kiss, the fair hair between her legs.
“I need you, Nolan. Please.”
There was desperation in her voice, something vulnerable and afraid that made him go to her, the workings of his mind quieted by the need to hold her, to press his lips against her skin, to mold her body to his.
He held her face in his hand and looked at her, torn between the desire to kiss her and the need to memorize the way she looked at that moment, to hold the picture in his mind when the night ended and they were thrown back into a dynamic that had somehow been made complicated, when for him it had always been simple: he loved her, had loved her since the moment he saw her, would love her until the day he died.
She solved the conundrum for him by sliding her arms around his torso and stepping close, her nakedness searing his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt, eviscerating what was left of his control.
He crushed her mouth under his, invading it with his tongue. She opened for him like a flower, pressing her body to his until he felt the peaks of her nipples, her stomach pressed against his erection.
He was lost in her. Lost in her mouth and the softness of her body, a refuge against the world’s hardness. He traced her neck with his hands, stroked them across her shoulders, delicate but somehow strong enough to bear her burdens with grace.
She reached for the hem of his T-shirt and he helped her pull it over his head. She continued kissing him as she reached for the button on his jeans. She worked his zipper and reached inside his underwear, wrapping her hand around his throbbing shaft.
He groaned into her mouth and forced himself to pause their kiss long enough to slide off his jeans, desperate to feel her skin against his own.
The pleasure of pressing her naked body to his was almost painful — a pain he’d ached for, longed for. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he kissed her deeply, slower now that she was back in his arms where she belonged, the way she belonged: nude, raw, as hungry for him as he was for her.
She turned and pulled him down onto the bed. He stretched out over her and kissed her forehead, her eyes, her nose. He touched his lips to the corners of her mouth and stroked her hair back from her face as he soaked her in, half expecting her to dematerialize as quickly as she’d appeared.
There was so much he wanted to say.
I never stopped loving you.
I need you.
I don’t care what you’ve done or what you feel you have to do now.
He couldn’t get any of it out. Her beauty overwhelmed him, the fact of her in his arms a fragile blessing.
She turned her head, avoiding his eyes, hiding from him the way she’d been hiding all these years. A tear leaked down her temple into her hair.
He kissed it away and turned her chin to face him.
“No tears. And no hiding anymore. Okay?”
She nodded and he kissed her again, long and slow, kissing away the ache in his heart at the sight of her tears, wanting to kiss away whatever it was that had made her cry because it was better and infinitely more pleasurable than killing whoever had perpetrated the crime.
His mouth under hers rekindled the spark between their bodies, and he kissed his way down her neck, taking his time at her collarbone before continuing to her breasts.
He rubbed his nose between them, inhaling the scent of her skin before taking one of the mounds in his hand. He flicked his tongue against the other one and she arched her back when he took the areola in his mouth.
She gasped as he sucked and lapped at the aroused peak, using his hand to roll her other nipple between his fingers. She writhed under him, the moisture between her legs sliding against his throbbing cock, sending a shriek of desire through his body so potent he almost couldn’t see for it.
He wanted to drive into her, bury his cock inside the welcoming heat of her core. He knew exactly what it would feel like, knew exactly how exquisite it would be. The knowing made it all the harder to keep his desire under control and he forced himself to concentrate on the garden of her body, bringing it to life with his hands and mouth, his own coming back to life as she bloomed under him.
He trailed kisses down her stomach, relishing the softness of it, the softness of all of her, an erotic contrast to the hard planes of his own body. Dipping his tongue into her navel, he kissed his way to her waist. She jumped a little just like he remembered.
