Until we lay naked together, stretched along each other's length, mouths hot, hands pushing closer to caress. To hold.
In holding, to free.
I'd been more caged the last four months during which I
hadn't
had Rick than I was now.
I'd never felt less claustrophobic than being held.
Summer was nicer than the snow-filled early March night had been. We stretched out together, full length, and everything was familiar and new at the same time. His hands ran down my sides, making me shiver and purr and writhe against him. My hands stroked arms and chest and shoulders, marveling at his contours, at how hot his flesh was.
Mouths followed hands, and we were moving faster, finding what the other liked, learning. The first time back in the cabin had been all about speed, of getting through it before we came to our senses, I think, of moving on before internal censors caught up. It had been passionate and fiery and hot.
And this time was passionate, fiery, hot, and slower, our hands lingering, our mouths following. I kissed and licked down his belly. He cradled my hips and drew me close. I nibbled. He bit. Neither of us liked it. We laughed. We tangled our hands in fistfuls of hair, we pulled heads back and licked throats and went back to kissing, to stroking, to causing those electric sensations that filled me with awe. My toes curled, fingers spread, pulse quickened.
Gradually the kisses became more intense, the stroking hands harder, the legs twined more closely about each other and we pressed together, belly to belly, hip to hip. This time we didn't watch each other, weren't eye to eye. This time there was enough trust and abandon to let our eyes close and our heads fall back as our bodies slid together, rocking into each other, and the fire flared up and the tempo changed. We moved together like we'd done this before, like each knew what the other liked. In truth, we had so much more to look forward to exploring. We moved faster and faster together, breath coming short, hands locking around backs, around waists or necks, our bodies flowing sinuously from one position into the next, keeping contact, fire building until the passion ignited and exploded.
My body pulsed to his rhythm. His body filled mine. I felt whole and complete and unafraid and whatever would happen next would happen later, outside this time and place.
It wouldn't be easy. We were combining two people with fairly difficult life stories, with painful histories and a tendency to hide, to shove others away, to run just as the going got interesting. Just because our demons were exposed didn't mean they'd been exorcised. Add in that we worked together, one of us the other's boss, in jobs that were new to both of us? Challenging. There'd be fights to come. Neither of us was going to change our nature that quickly.
That was in the future. This was now. And the now was pretty fantastic. The now was Rick wrapped around me, his face in my hair, his breathing changing as he fell asleep.
He was falling asleep with his arms around me, holding me close. That used to make me panic. Every time.
Not now. For now, I reveled in the freedom of being held.
The End
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Copyright @ 2014 Rachel Hanna
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Rachel Hanna