His hair is splayed around his head, the color picking up the sun as it shines through my window. His eyes hold a look I’ve never seen before in another human, at least not while they were looking at me. And words I doubt either of us have ever said spill out of us at the same time.
“Inta jamil, habibi.”
“Oh fuck, I love you.”
We stop moving, and Anders’ eyes go wide. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t—”
I place a finger on his lips. “Sh-shhhh. Don’t freak out.”
His breathing is shallow and fast, and tears shine in his eyes. “I’m—”
I waggle my finger at him. “Uh-uhn. You can’t take it back now.”
“But—”
I roll my hips and lean forward, kissing his shocked mouth. “Do you know what I just said?”
He shakes his head, worry crowding those beautiful eyes again.
“I said ‘inta jamil, habibi,’ which means, you’re beautiful, my love.”
“My love?” he asks, his voice shaking.
“Mmm. It’s not quite the same asana bahebak, but that’s true, too.”
“Oh.”
A small tear escapes as a kaleidoscope of emotions plays across his face, fear prominent among them. Not exactly the expression you want to see when you say “I love you” for the first time in your life.
“Habibi, why are you so fearful right now?”
He can’t quite meet my eyes, his laugh a little broken as he wipes his tears. “Um…I, uh. I don’t think I expected Mr. I Don’t Show My Emotions to admit to them. So, I really thought I fucked up there. Still not convinced I haven’t.”
I chuckle, continuing the slow roll of my hips as I stroke my knuckles across his cheek. “Admit it. You didn’t think I was capable.”
Rolling his eyes, he jokes, “I had my doubts. But I did hope.” He steals a look into my eyes with that last sentence, and it takes my breath away.
I give myself a moment to recover, then smirk. “When we first had sex, did you or did you not make a truly horrible attempt at telling me something romantic in Arabic?”
He squirms under my insistent hips, his eyes rolling back in his head. “I can’t help it. Arabic is a romantic language.”
I lean in and whisper into his ear, “So there is no confusion,I love you. I think you’re beautiful. And I want you to be mine.”
He blinks, and a few more tears make their appearance, and I laugh softly, kissing the salty tears from his face, whispering again, “You have the world’s worst poker face. I knew the minute you fell for me. What’s worse is that somehow your dumb ass managed to pull me over the ledge with you. I could still kick your ass for doing that to me.”
He sniffles and sheds a few more tears, but I also draw a groan from him because I haven’t stopped my hips from doing what they do best.
I continue my slow roll, and he starts to piston up, adding soft, teasing strokes to the head of my dick. His free hand lands on my hip, following the undulation.
“Ana bahebak.”
“Ana bahebak.”
Saying and hearing it at the same time cracks my chest wide open. He’s not my enemy, he never was. He’s not the opposite of me, he’s the pieces of me I didn’t know were missing.
The emotions and the fucking and the gentle way he’s feathering his fingers over the head of my cock combine in my body like a bomb, like a tidal wave, hitting me full force. I’m powerless to do anything except let it wash over me. As if in slow motion, I arch into a delicate, overwhelming orgasm that leaves me floating, untethered.
Anders’ hands land on my hips, and his quick, powerful thrusts bring me back to earth, grounded in this moment with him. I ride out the aftershocks while his warmth floods me.
