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I cradle her face, and kiss her face where her smile gives her soft little lines, trailing down her cheek to kiss next to her lips, and then to kiss her there. My other arm wraps around behind her and holds her against me. I want to hold her like this forever.
I’m fooling myself into thinking I’m just doing all of this because I’m trying to charm her. Lucy is the one who is charming me and making me into the shell of someone that I don’t even know. Where do I fit in if I want her, and not the existence that seems so empty to me now? What good is all the power to control a city of sin when all I want is heaven in Lucy’s arms?
Her soft little body is pressing against me. Everywhere she’s soft, I’m hard, and the contrasting sensations mixes up everything in my mind and I can’t think about all this melancholia drenching my throats. Lucy presses her soft lips to mine, parting them so slightly and sliding her tongue into my mouth. So gentle. So sweet. She tastes like a freedom I never knew that I wanted. This is what happens to a man who has everything. You want something more. Lucy makes me want a lot of things.
Now, my hand gripping her collarbone, I want to rip every inch of her clothes off her body and put my mouth on every soft and trembling part of her. Not exactly gentle, but I can show a modicum of restraint and get what I want. Breaking our kiss, I pull back and look into her hazel eyes. They look back at me through sooty lashes, a wide smile spread over her cherry lips. I reach out and suck in her lower lip, releasing it and dropping down to my knees. For a moment, all I want is to wrap my arms around her legs and squeeze her. So I do, holding her so tightly that she shakes in my hold. I say those words to her that I find myself saying like a prayer. “I’ve got you,” and that’s the truth for her as much as for me. I want to have her. I need to have her. And she has me so wrapped up in her that I don’t know what to do to keep control of myself. I don’t want to be in control when I’m with Lucy. I don’t want to pretend to be anything. I don’t want to manipulate her.
That’s what’s really unlocking me to the core. Lucy makes me want to be free to be whatever it is that I’ve become.
But if I was, would she even want to be near me?
I pucker my lips to just above her knee, kissing soft as a wind in spring. My other hand trails up her skirt and finds the soft vee of her cotton panties, encasing what I need but what I’ll take time to get to. Not just because of some gentle act … I have a compulsion to worship every inch of her, here and now, when she’s real and in front of me. It almost feels like if I don’t touch Lucy as much as I can, she’s going to fade away.
Her hands are in my hair, not with any particular goal and just to touch me. No one has ever touched me so tenderly and it cracks something hard in my chest that breaks free a wellspring of emotions. My fingertips sweep back and forth over her panties, inside her thighs, and back, before I sweep in and pull down her panties, in one hand, but still gentle and soft. When they slide down her thighs, down to her ankles, I don’t let her step out of them, my other hand holding her leg in place. I like having her so gently captive, at my mercy while I try to worship her with the grace she deserves.
“You have no idea what you’ve done, walking into my life, Lucy,” I whisper against her inner thigh, kissing her.
“I don’t have to know, I just need you,” Lucy says, and I realize she heard what I said.
Her words shake me to the deepest part of me, buried deep behind the mask of who I am every day.
God, that woman could penetrate my armor if it was forged in the pits of hell. Some days, that’s exactly how I feel, and yet here Lucy is and she’s at my side. For now.
My teeth graze over her knees, softly skirting the flesh and not breaking skin or even being so rough to even qualify as a bite. My fingers slide over her bared pussy softly but don’t enter her yet. I just need to feel every part of her, slide through her folds and feel how wet they are, how ready for me they are. I let my thumb slide up to her clit. The bud is swollen with need and I can’t deny her what her body needs. Sliding two fingers in her pussy and working them into a curl to softly stroke her G-spot, I ghost my thumb over her clit. I have to be really gentle as I’m going right to the money spots. I want to stroke her, tease her, bring her to that point where she’s ready to fall apart in my hands. I stroke her, looking up at her gorgeous face. I see how she whimpers, little sighs escaping with her breaths. Her breathing hitches in her throat and gets more shallow, and I know she’s close. My lips on her thighs, kissing her softly, licking at her soft skin to taste her, bringing her to shiver. That’s when I know she’s close and I’m not ready to let go of her just yet. I scoop her up into my arms.
