“I want you, Howell. In every way. Please show me…”
Show me you love me.He didn’t need to say the words. We both felt them, but by unspoken agreement, we didn’t say them aloud.
“Sweetheart, I—” My voice cracked, thickened with emotion. “I want you too. So much.”
I cupped his cheek, smooth and soft beneath my palm. He pressed against my hand, closing his eyes for a moment as if to savor the touch. When he opened them again, they were alight with affection and a desire that mirrored my own. “Then have me,” he whispered.
It was all the invitation I needed. With a fluid motion, I closed the distance between us, my lips finding his in a tender and fervent kiss. As our mouths moved together, exploring and learning, our bodies followed, drawing nearer until there was no space left between us.
We stumbled to my bedroom between kisses. I flicked on the lights. I wanted to see him, see what I did to him.
“Gorgeous,” Onno murmured, tentatively brushing my chest. His touch ignited a fire on my skin, warmth spreading throughevery fiber of my being. I captured his hands with mine and guided them to the hem of my shirt. Together, we lifted it over my head, the fabric whispering its farewell, exposing my body to his gaze.
My fingers found the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one with deliberate slowness, prolonging the moment. The shirt parted, revealing his pale skin, such a contrast to the dimly lit room. I traced the lines of his collarbone, and a shiver passed through him. He was so beautiful with his smooth skin, long, sleek limbs, and perfect eyes. Eyes I wanted to drown in. Everything about him spoke to me, sang to me.
“Your turn,” I said softly, and with a smile that held volumes of unspoken words, he mirrored my actions, divesting me of my shirt. In between more kisses and caresses, we shed all our clothes piece by piece. There was a reverence in the way he touched me, as if memorizing the map of my body with his fingertips.
Our gazes locked, and time seemed suspended. With each breath, anticipation built, charging the air with electric potential. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him, our skin meeting in a flush of heat, our chests rising and falling in sync.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, and led him to the bed. Onno nodded, his blue eyes shimmering with trust and something deeper, something I recognized as akin to my feelings. Love. We were in love.
“I’m perfect.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
I smiled back, arranged the pillows, and pulled back the sheets, laying a foundation for what was to come. Leaning over him, I brushed my lips against his forehead, a silent promise to honor the gift of his vulnerability.
“Let me take care of you,” I whispered. Such simple words, but they felt like a vow.
I opened the bedside drawer and retrieved the lube but hesitated when I got to the condoms. Going bare seemed crazy this soon, yet…
“I’m tested and negative,” Onno said softly. Even now, we were on the same page.
“Same. So, bare?”
“Bare.”
He spread on his back, letting his legs fall wide as he showed me everything, giving me a view into his very soul. I’d never done this. My ex hadn’t been into anal, but I’d done my research, wanting to know what to do when Onno was ready. Thank god I had. I felt certain, confident, convinced I’d get it right.
“You’re perfect,” I whispered as I ran my hand down his stomach, over the length of his cock. “So fucking perfect.”
His smile lit up my heart.
I kissed his right leg from his still somewhat damaged feet to the inside of his thigh, then did the same to his left leg. His soft signs were a sweet symphony.
With lube-coated fingers, I slid into him, first with my middle finger, then with my index. I prepared him with unhurried movements, giving each touch, each caress, each move my utmost attention, ensuring his comfort. His responses guided me—little intakes of breath, a subtle shifting of his hips, his fingers gripping the sheets and relaxing, gripping and relaxing.
“Good?” I checked, pausing to look into his eyes.
“Perfect.” That single word suffused me with warmth, spreading from my chest outward, each cell prickling and tingling.
I stretched out on top of him, and nimble as he was, he folded his legs double, accepting me between his legs. Positioning myself was a bit of a fumble because of the awkward angle, but he was patient, watching me with that sweet, shy smile.
I slid into him slowly, guided by every flicker of pleasure that danced across his features. The heat of his body welcomed me, wrapped around me like the embrace of a long-lost lover. There was no resistance, only the seamless joining of two souls hungry for the taste of each other’s essence. He took me in like he was made for me, not showing a hint of discomfort.
“Howell…”
His voice broke, and it was as if he spoke directly to my heart, urging it to beat faster, to love harder. Because god, I loved him. I loved him with every fiber of my being, with every beat of my heart, with every breath in my lungs. But I dared not speak the words, scared they’d shatter the sacred trust between us.
“Look at me.” I held his gaze in silent conversation. A conversation made of shared desires and whispered dreams.
