Her dress is half off. The black lace underneath catches the lamplight. She freezes for a second, like she’s suddenly aware of herself.
I’m very aware of her.
I move slower now. Not because I don’t want her. God, I want her. But because I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want to make her feel like this is just physical.
My hands slide along her arms as I help free her from the fabric. I drag my fingers deliberately across her shoulders, down her sides to where her waist dips in.
She inhales sharply.
That sound undoes me.
She thinks I don’t desire her.
If only she knew how hard I am right now. How I’m throbbing for her.
When she pulls me down and kisses me, it’s not tentative. It’s not careful. It’s hungry.
And something in me snaps, not in a losing-control way, but in a finally-I-don’t-have-to-hold-back way.
I’ve been afraid to touch her. Afraid of being one more person who needs something from her. Afraid of misreading exhaustion as rejection.
But this?
This is her choosing me.
Her legs wrap around my waist, and I feel it like a claim.
She’s warm and soft and strong all at once.
And I can feel how wet she is through her black lace underwear.
She wants me too.
Her hands grip me like she means it. Like she’s been waiting too.
I don’t think she realises what that does to me.
It’s not just arousal. It’s relief.
Relief that she still wants me. Relief that I haven’t lost her. Relief that the distance between us isn’t permanent.
When we finally stop laughing and start breathing instead, it feels different to how it used to.
Less frantic. More intentional.
We move carefully at first, like we’re relearning each other. Then less carefully. Then not careful at all.
I’m aware of everything, the way she arches into me, the way her nails drag lightly over my shoulders, the way she bites her lip to stay quiet because the kids are down the hall.
And when she looks at me, really looks at me, there’s no doubt in her eyes.
Just want.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt wanted.
Not needed. Not relied on. Wanted.
Although right now, the way she’s grinding her hips against my hard cock, it definitely feels like she needs me.
