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“I learned long ago it doesn’t help to dwell on it. It serves me no purpose. I can’t make someone love or want me.”
“Still,” he said.
“The worst part was when I was with my father’s new family, it was usually when they took their summer vacation. I was expected to watch their two children, who were younger than me, like I was their nanny. And when they took pictures, I was never allowed to be in them. In fact, I was the person taking them.”
“What about your mother?” he questioned softly.
“She’s an alcoholic. I spent more time being her mother than she was mine.”
He held me as I spoke, commenting when needed, but mostly, he just listened, and while I knew our pasts were completely different, there was a common thread that bonded us, stitching our broken souls back together.
“Will you come to bed with me?” he asked expectantly.
Our encounter from this afternoon was still fresh in my mind, and my body warmed at the thought, but this was different. He had never asked permission before but simply took what he wanted. I felt my cheeks warm and nodded.
He picked me up and carried me up the metal staircase to his bedroom, setting me on a large platform bed. Lying down next to me, he turned me so we faced each other, looking into my eyes. “You looked very beautiful tonight. Fy merch hardd.”
“What does that mean? The last part.”
He brushed the hair back from my face. “Fy merch hardd. My beautiful girl.”
I felt raw and exposed as if my soul were standing naked before him, and I looked down.
“Look at me, Navy.”
I shook my head. “I can’t,” I said, a tear slipping down my cheek.
He kissed my brow. “This darling is the difference between sex and intimacy.”
He wiped the tear away and rolled me on my back, kissing my mouth as he explored me with his tongue. “This is honesty and truth.”
I surrendered as we slowly undressed each other until we lay naked in each other’s arms, our clothes discarded haphazardly into a heap on the floor. He moved on top of me, holding himself up on his forearms. I was in unchartered territory. I had never made love. I had sex, and there was a difference. He kissed his way down my body, coming to my breasts and teasing my nipples with his tongue. My body convulsed as the deep seed of desire rose up.
Desire to let someone in.
Desire for him to truly see me.
He continued his way down, stopping at the apex of my thighs. “Open your legs, darling,” he said. His voice was low and commanding.
I paused.
Trust. I was inviting him to see my most personal being, showing him a piece of my soul. There would be no turning back. I let them fall to the sides, and he gently kissed my clit, exploring my lips as he licked me up and down. The feeling in my core grew swiftly. “I want to feel you inside me,” I whispered.
“Patience, darling. I’m enjoying this.”
He continued with his task at hand, bringing me to the brink again and again until my body began to shake, and he raised himself up and entered me in one fluid stroke. I cried out.
At this moment, I was his.
And he was mine.
We had become each other’s compass rose.
“That’s it, fy merch hardd,” he said, resting his forehead against mine as our eyes locked. Brown mixed with blue, and we found each other in the depths, and thrust after thrust, our connection was deepened until there was no more north or south nor east or west, and we lost all sense of orientation as we spun into the abyss of each other’s pleasure.
“Are you all right?” he asked as I slowly returned to the moment.
“Yes,” I smiled.
