Chapter Seven

I'm bribing you all with stories until I can get back and actually blog. Have fun.

Warning: Fiction. So much fiction it hurts.

I started to move towards him, but he motioned for me to stop.
“Stay where you are.”
“Why?” My voice felt small and nervous. I only wanted to be in his arms again.
“You’re beautiful. I don’t want to ruin it with movement.”
I could feel his eyes roam over every square inch of my body. It was such a strange sensation, a mix of comfort and fear. I didn’t know what to expect, what he was after. I wanted to hide, but I wanted him to see every part of me. I wanted him to tell me what I didn’t know.
“You remind me of myself when I was younger; so delicate and innocent, full of wonder and amazement. I can see the thirst in the shadows of your face. The same thirst I had for knowledge, for danger; the need to make a difference.” His voice grew quieter as he spoke, reflecting on years gone by, on the person he'd been.
He moved towards me as quickly as he’d left. He cupped my face in his hands, his grip more forceful this time, angling my face to his. He kissed me, eagerly and hard, as though he were searching for something, some comfort, in me.
We stood together in the kitchen, the lines separating us blurring, reality blending and becoming soft and malleable. I could feel the beat of his heart in his chest, the rhythm of his breathing as his scent mixed with mine, mingling in a heady perfume surrounding us. There was nothing left to interrupt us, we were completely alone.
His fingers held my face, the tips of them caught in my hair. My arms wrapped loosely around his neck and shoulders, the collar of his shirt pressed sharply against my skin. He moved. His hands moved slowly along the line of my jaw and down my neck, small touches filled with something unknown and mysterious. The hairs on my arms and neck raised, my skin tingled.
My entire body ached and pulsed with life, with anticipation, with need for him. I knew he was feeling the same. We hurt together.
With his hands on my hips, he pushed me against the island where I’d been chopping vegetables. The edge of the counter hurt as it pressed into my flesh as he pushed hard against me, pinning me to the spot. A soft mix of pain and pleasure escaped my lips as he slid his hand inside of my shirt. His thumb traced my belly button and the soft contour of my hip bone. I bit my lip as his kisses moved along my neck and what was exposed of my shoulders. His mouth was warm and moist against my sensitive skin.