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He reached down, lifted the hem of my sweater, and yanked it over my head. The cool air danced around me, touching me in all the places he wasn’t.
I slid my hands under his sweater, revelling in the feel of his skin under my hands. I’d missed him so much, loved him so long, but never dreamed I’d touch him again. I skimmed over his abdomen and pressed the palms of my hands against his bare chest. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on imprinting the feel of his body onto my brain.
He grasped his sweater at the back of his neck and pulled it over his head. His breath ruffled my hair as I moved closer and leaned my forehead against his collarbone, nuzzling my face into his wide chest. I rounded his wide shoulders with my hands and pressed my breasts against his ribs, skin to glorious skin. A shiver danced over the surface of my skin.
Oh, the connection! The pleasure seemed almost too much to bear. I hadn’t been so physically close to another person in years, and for it to be this person, my person, was blissful agony.
We slowed, remembering and learning anew.
His hands swept up my back and separated, one to the back of my neck, the other to the top of my ass, and he gently pulled me closer. He was hard against my stomach. His chest hair tickled my cheek, and I turned my head to press my ear over the reassuring beat of his heart as he ran his hands smoothly up and down my back.
I felt a shift in the tension in his body. He dragged his palms up my back to open the snap of my bra, pulled the straps down my arms, and eased back to drop it between us.
He stood for a moment, staring at my bare breasts. The stillness was broken when we lurched for each other’s belt at the same time. We laughed at our clumsiness as we fumbled and withdrew to undo our own instead. The laughter broke the spell of trepidation as he pressed a laughing kiss to my mouth, overjoyed in that moment at finding ourselves together.
I pushed my jeans and panties down my legs and stepped out of them. When I looked up, he had done the same. Neither of us wanted to take any time for teasing.
Standing naked in front of each other for the first time in a decade brought a sense of reverence.
He had changed. I’d already noted it, but without his clothes it was more pronounced. His body had thickened, his chest deeper, his arms more muscled. His abs that had once been so well defined were barely a hint, and the smattering of chest hair he’d once boasted about had since spread across his wide chest and trailed down his stomach to his very eager erection.
I wondered what he thought of the changes in me. I pulled my attention warily up to his handsome face. The heat in his eyes left no room for doubt that he wanted me. I pulled in a deep breath of air and held it in anticipation.
He dragged his eyes back to mine and held my gaze. Reaching out with one finger, he traced a line from my jaw to my throat, down between my breasts, and over my stomach until he lost contact.
“I’m going to worship every inch of you. There will not be a single place I haven’t touched, licked, kissed, sucked, or fucked by the time I’m done.”
My head dropped back weakly at his words.
He grasped my hips and pushed me back gently onto the bed. Climbing in, he hovered over me, then hesitated.
“What is it?” I whispered, my voice shaking with need and anticipation.
“I don’t know where to start,” he admitted, his gaze roving over my body. “I never imagined I’d ever have you again.”
I curved my arms around his broad back and pulled his body down to rest on mine. I tunnelled my fingers into his hair and drew his mouth down to within a breath of mine.
“I’ll start here,” I murmured against his lips, and kissed him, pouring every drop of longing I’d stored up for him over the past ten years into the kiss.
Heart to heart, his instincts kicked in, and he pressed his erection against my very wet centre.
I gasped, then moaned, at the sensation of heat and hardness. His smell, the weight of his body over mine, his sweet mouth, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow, the silk of his skin under my hands, he filled my empty cup to overflowing. I wriggled beneath him, wrapped my legs around his lean hips and rubbed frantically against his shaft, desperate for release.
He drew back slightly. “Slow down, Ruby-mine,” he murmured.
I pushed my fingers into his hair to bring his mouth back to mine. “Ten years, Vander,” I gasped.
“Right.” He immediately widened my thighs with his and slid his cock back and forth over my slit, bumping my clit with every pass.
The first tremor rippled through me. My neck arched back, and I dug my fingers into the muscles of his back. He pulled back quickly.
“Oh, god, Vander, no!” I cried.
“Condom, Ruby-mine. Ten seconds. Give me ten seconds,” he assured me hurriedly.
Before I’d finished counting, he lay over me, notched at my entrance, and ready to ease his way in. I wiggled to accommodate his girth. He pushed in halfway, and I winced.
“I’ll go slow, koukla,” he soothed, his weight on his elbows at either side of my head. He eased in and out, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside me. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he hovered over me. “You okay?”
