Heaven From Here

thirty seven

It felt like liquid fire was coursing through his veins. Every part of him that Hanna had touched, had caressed; was singed and scorched. And he wanted more. Her innocent kisses, her whimpers, her mewls, her desire for him had him almost losing his mind as he smashed his lips against hers roughly. Tugging on her hair again, he felt her gasp against his lips, and he inhaled her gasp. He licked, nibbled, and bit her lips before soothing it with his tongue; coaxing her to follow his movements. And when she timidly mimicked his movements, he couldn't help but press her closer to his body.

He felt her heaving breasts against his chest as she panted. He felt the heat radiate from her core as she brushed against his. The arm that was banded around her waist now were fingers that dug into her hip as it urged her to rock against him.

Hanna arched against him with another gasp, her head thrown back, her palms cradling his head to her breasts as she leaned back; exposing her neck. Saif trailed kisses on the slope of her neck as he grazed his teeth against her overly sensitized skin.

"Saif," she moaned lowly.

The sound of her voice calling his name cut through the haze of his desire and for second he felt lost. What the fuck am I doing?, he thought frantically squeezing his eyes shut. His chest moving up and down, in sync with Hanna's as they both panted. Hanna leaned her forehead against his, her eyes still closed when he slowly looked at her. She was biting her lip, the one he had nibbled on seconds ago, her face flushed a pretty pink.

Trying to calm himself, Saif leaned away from Hanna, resting his head on the headboard as he placed his hands on the bed. He took measured breaths as he studied the ceiling, willing his heart to slow the fuck down. He huffed quietly when Hanna squirmed in his lap, and he knew he needed to few minutes to himself in the bathroom to sort himself out. A cold shower was not going to help him in this scenario; he was too far gone.

Had Hanna not said his name, he would have wanted more from her. More than what she was probably comfortable giving. More than what he deserved. His fingers were itching to slip under her soft pajama top to feel the silk of her skin against the pads of his fingertips. The taste of her lips still lingered on his tongue. And the softness of her kisses was seared in his mind.

"Saif," she murmured huskily as she rested her forehead on his chin. "I'm sorry," she whispered into his skin.

Saif sat up with a jolt, eyes wide as he tried to understand what it was, she was apologizing for. As he parted his lips to speak, Hanna covered his mouth with her palm looking deeply into his eyes.

"I...jumped you...I...didn't...think...to ask you...if you were alright with it...," she whispered brokenly, still pressed up against the hard planes of Saif's body. "And I know...that...that I am not ready for more than this."

Saif tried to shift but groaned lowly at the contact of their bodies pressed together, his hands flying to her thighs as he steadied her. He released a harsh breath, before taking deep measured breaths. "I don't have any expectations from you, Pari. Just because we are married, doesn't mean I have a right to demand anything that you are uncomfortable with," he murmured lowly, his eyes fixed on the sliver of skin from where her pajama top had slipped off her shoulder.

Cupping his cheeks and pulling him closer, Hanna rested her forehead against his and softly whispered, "How are you this perfect, Saif?" Hanna searched in his face, as her thumb brushed against his lips lovingly and whispered in wonderment, "How are you even real, Saif?"

"I'm far from perfect, Pari," he said gruffly, as he averted his eyes from her at a loss of words.

"...But to me, you are perfect. And I love the way you are with me," she breathed hotly as she nuzzled against his cheek. Saif's breath hitched at her words. Each word etching a mark on the walls around his heart, engraving a tattoo of her words around it. And it ached. It ached so sweetly that there was someone who thought him perfect. That there was this beautiful creature, almost ethereal with her flushed skin, brilliant red hair, and flashing jade eyes; in his lap but instead calling him perfect.