His eyes fall closed. His mouth responds to mine. His hands reach up to pull me closer and I stop him.
“No,” I whisper. “Don’t move.”
He drops his hands.
“Lie back,” I whisper.
He does.
I kiss him everywhere. His cheeks. His chin. The tip of his nose and the space between his eyebrows. All across his forehead and along his jawline. Every inch of his face. Small, soft kisses that say so much more than I ever could. I want him to know how I feel. I want him to know it the way only he can, the way he can sense the depth of emotion behind my movements. I want him to know and never doubt.
And I want to take my time.
My mouth moves down to his neck and he gasps, and I breathe in the scent of his skin, take in the taste of him and I run my hands down his chest, kissing my way across and down the line of his torso. He keeps trying to reach for me, keeps trying to touch me, and I have to tell him to stop.
“Please,” he says, “I want to feel you—”
I gentle his arms back down. “Not yet. Not now.”
My hands move to his pants. His eyes fly open.
“Close your eyes,” I have to tell him.
“No.” He can hardly speak.
“Close your eyes.”
He shakes his head.
“Fine.”
I unbutton his pants. Unzip.
“Juliette,” he breathes. “What—”
I’m pulling off his pants.
He sits up.
“Lie down. Please.”
He’s staring at me, eyes wide.
He finally falls back.
I tug his pants off all the way. Toss them to the floor.
He’s in his underwear.
I trace the stitching on the soft cotton, following the lines on the overlapping pieces of his boxer-briefs as they intersect in the middle. He’s breathing so fast I can hear him, can see his chest moving. His eyes are squeezed shut. His head tilted back. His lips parted.
I touch him again, so gently.
He stifles a moan, turns his face into the pillows. His whole body is trembling, his hands clutching at the sheets. I run my hands down his legs, gripping them just above his knees and inching them apart to make room for the kisses I trail up the insides of his thighs. My nose skims his skin.
He looks like he’s in pain. So much pain.
I find the elastic waist of his underwear. Tug it down.
Slowly.
Slowly.
The tattoo is sitting just below his hip bone.
h e l l i s e m p t y
a n d a l l t h e d e v i l s a r e h e r e
I kiss my way across the words.
Kissing away the devils.
Kissing away the pain.