He starts to undo his tie, still not looking away from me. “I thought I lost you,” he says.
I bite my lip, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “You sure as hell tried to lose me, but you never could,” I whisper.
He threads a hand through my soaked hair, squeezing and pulling me toward him, crushing his mouth against mine in a kiss.
“I’ll never let you go again,” he whispers, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak and then pressing his lips back to mine.
I feel all the passion and regret he has built up for me in that kiss, as if his thoughts crackle across our skin and enter my mind. He never wanted to do anything but keep me safe, and he was just a good man put into impossible situations. A weaker man would have stayed with me and spared me the immediate pain at the cost of the long-term pain. Jesse has never been weak.
My fingers clumsily struggle with the buttons of his shirt.
I get too impatient to bother with his buttons and pull his shirt wide, snapping the last few. I reach for his belt, unclasping it and pulling it free. He helps to undo his button and lets his pants and briefs fall to the floor wetly. He kicks the pile out of the way, never taking his lips from mine. His wide hands splay over my lower back, spanning the entire width of my waist. I love how good it feels to be wrapped in his arms, how small I feel and how safe I feel.
I thought I would never feel this again. I thought I might never feel anything again, and now it’s all so much at once. I can’t get my footing, as if I’m floating just a few inches above reality, watching everything happen in slow motion. His tongue swirls against mine and I rub my hand down the hard shelf of muscle covering his torso. The smooth curve of his chest and the perfect lines of his abs and the diagonal crease of muscle leading down to his massive, throbbing cock.
I circle his length with my hand, stroking him and loving the way his powerful body shudders against me. I can’t seem to stop biting my lip as I barely control the urge to wrap my legs around him. My thoughts race. Half of my brain is fixated on the sight of his perfectly hard body glistening as rivulets of water run down the valleys and peaks of his muscles, on how good his stiff cock feels in my hand, and on how I could lose myself in those fiery eyes. The other half is trying to come to terms with everything. There has been so much change in such a short period of time, but the last week feels more like a lifetime.
I don’t know if having sex with him again is going to change anything, but it feels like it will, like it’s a commitment, a promise. Maybe I’m being hopeful, but I can’t shake the feeling. One thing I do know for sure is I want that commitment from him more than anything right now. I let my anger blind me to what was right in front of me. I’ve wanted to forgive Jesse since he stepped back into my life, and I’m not going to be happy unless I’m with him. It’s scary placing that much power in him, but there’s a contentment that washes over me as I admit it to myself. For better or worse, I’m placing my heart in his hands again. No reservations.
His hand on the inside of my thigh snaps me from my musings. He slides his middle finger down over my mound and across my clit, making me shudder and grip his cock more tightly. I begin moving my hand up and down his length, kissing him deeply as he sends shockwaves through my body with the slightest touch. His hand between my legs has me gasping so hard I have to pull away from the kiss. I’m transfixed when my eyes find his. I can see so much in those eyes, more than he would likely ever voice to me. I see hunger, lust, power, but through it all I see love. I can’t take my eyes off him, and the torrent of sensation builds until it reaches a breaking point.
“Fuck,” he mutters, gripping my hand to stop my movements against his cock.
Knowing I almost made him cum with just my hand pushes me over the edge I’m teetering on. I squeeze my thighs together, wrapping my arms around his strong, wet body and holding on tight as I’m racked with bliss.
He presses my back against the tiles, giving me a momentary shock of cold until my skin heats the tile. He takes me by the hips, kissing me deeply and lifting me effortlessly upward. My feet hang in the air, as I’m pinned to the wall by his arms and body. He somehow manages to find my entrance with his cock. With one hand, he grips both my wrists over my head and uses his other hand to explore my body, leaving chills in his wake wherever his calloused fingers roam.
His cock slides inside me easily, stretching my walls. He takes me slowly, almost tenderly. I never thought a man like him could show tenderness, but he moves against me like I’m something precious, like he’s worshipping me. I watch his face with fascination, transfixed by the way his forehead creases with concentration and effort, by how his shoulders tense and cord with thick muscle, and by the way I’m completely at this man’s mercy right now and wouldn’t have it any other way.
My hands might as well be bound in stone. I’m his. He can do whatever he wants to me and Christ he’s doing it, now taking me fast and hard . I can’t keep from moaning and gasping as our bodies meet and my world melts away into a blur of friction, pleasure, and absolute comfort. It’s not a feeling I would expect to feel during sex, especially not sex like this, but I feel comfort. It’s like when our bodies are joined, everything is okay, like nothing can happen to me and like there’s nothing I need to worry about.
My fingernails dig into my palms and I lift my legs to wrap around his hips, leveraging his hold on my wrists to pump myself against him, desperate for him to fill me deeper and more fully. A guilty, completely crazy desire slips into my mind, shocking me with it’s intensity. He’s not wearing a condom and I want him to cum inside me. It’s ridiculous and unrealistic, but I suddenly want it so badly. I want him to claim me, to put a baby inside me and make me his completely. The thought of it drives me up the fucking wall and I cling even tighter to him, rocking against him like my life depends on it.
He tenses and I can tell he’s close. He’s going to cum. God, I know somewhere distantly that I’m being insane, but I can’t get a logical thought through the haze of sensation assaulting me. I just want his cum inside me. I want it so bad I don’t care how crazy it is. I sense him about to pull back when he cums, but I don’t let up on my grip, squeezing tight to him. I meet his eyes and see the question there, unspoken but clear as daylight.
You’re sure?
I bite my lip and don’t stop rocking against him, working his cock relentlessly, begging for his cum.
“Fuck,” he growls, grip tensing on my wrists until it almost hurts.
His cock pulses inside me and I feel the heat of his cum spreading deep inside me. Holy shit.