I’ve been hard at work on another book, something that started as a novella and then morphed into a bigger project. As in, it kind of took over my life—but in a very good way, of course.
While I try my hardest to stick to one project, other things constantly pop up, swirling around in my head and asking for attention. The following is one such thing that snuck in a couple days ago. I’m not sure what it will turn into yet, but for now I thought I’d offer up the vignette playing in my brain…
“Here?” he said. He brushed aside my hair, his lips skimming the nape of my neck. He curved his hands around my shoulders, hooking fingertips under the sides of my robe and parting them slowly, so slowly.
I shook my head—though already I could feel it, simmering deep in me. I closed my eyes as he drew back the fabric, silk dripping off my shoulders before it wisped to the floor.
He slid his fingertips up my arms and pressed his lips to my shoulder. One kiss, then two. His tongue ran the length of my shoulder blade, tracing what once felt it, felt this.
But again, I offered only a quiet head shake, the stillness of my breath.
He snaked his arms through the hollow between my arms and waist, curling them up, cupping my breasts. His palms grazed soft flesh that remembered and ached.
“Or here?” he said.
This time he came closer, his chest to my back, his breaths one with mine. His cock was hard but not insistent, patient like the draw of his fingertips across my nipples. They tightened at this simple caress and the warmth circulated, flowed.
Still, the words remained trapped at my lips, muted by an avalanche of memories and pain, weaving their way through my limbs, my heart.
He kissed my neck. His mouth was firmer now—needing me, summoning me. One hand inched down my stomach, lacing my body with goose bumps, with a sensation I’d forgotten.
“Here?” he whispered.
A fingertip grazed my folds. The faintest touch, searching me.
He circled the tender, tight knot that swelled for him and gently kissed my throat. My chest swarmed with heat as he trailed his finger down, slipping it inside a place that knew.
“There,” I breathed.
His words were a rush of warmth in my ear, a quiet, compassionate plea.
“Can I stay here?”
There was no other answer, my body responding, heating.
“Never leave,” I said.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. 🙂
Happy almost weekend…