Finding You, Looking for Me: A Henry Cavill FanFic

Part 13: Wild Horses Couldn't Drag Me Away

Later that night, after hours of conversation, dinner, and the two of them finally disappearing into the office to play video games and talk PC specs, Max was finally in bed for the evening. I immediately got into the shower, Siri playing my "In My Tree" playlist.

"Freeze without an answer, free from all the shame..."

I sang along quietly to The Mars Volta, my mind drifting away as the hot water enveloped me. The enormity of the past week was unable to penetrate my skin. Was this too rash a decision? I've involved my children in this now—there was no turning back for me. If Henry was going to break my heart, he was going to break all of our hearts. I was deathly afraid of the prospect of this. I knew that I had never felt like this before. Was it because I'd never seen someone so physically stunning in my life? Was it the insatiable sexual appetite that he shared with me the cause of my need for him? What did we share in common besides these things? Did we fill in the blanks for one another?

"Let me die, 'cause I'll never sleep alone..."

And the word... love. We only met a week ago—was that word a mistake?

I heard a soft knock at the door before it swung open. I could see Henry through the foggy glass, fully clothed this time, still checking himself out and fluffing his hair in the mirror. I smiled at the sight of his silhouette.

"Can I join you?" he asked me, his accent low and sexy.

"Of course," I responded. I hadn't even begun to wash myself, I had just been singing to myself and daydreaming.

Through the glass, I watched him strip his t-shirt off, and then his pants and underwear. My heart definitely fluttered at the sight of his naked body. I doubted that could ever change.

He climbed into the shower with me. I kept my eyes on his, not trying to be greedy about my appreciation for his body. He kept his eyes on mine. This was the first time we would be naked together since the word was used between us. Love.

He placed his large hands on my hips and pulled me close to him. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his chest, his chest hairs tickling my nose. I smiled into his chest. I could not think of a more comforting place in the universe at any point in my life, than right there with him. His strong arms were wrapped tightly around me, his large hands, moved to the small of my back, grazing my behind. He rested his chin atop my head and we both stood silently under the water. Everything was seemingly falling into place—all on its own.

"Hi," I said quietly, pressing my lips to his skin. My eyes were closed and I felt as calm as I would have after an hour of meditation.

"Hi," he responded back to me.

Neither of us moved, we just held each other, naked, under the hot water.

The Rolling Stones began to to sing to us about wild horses. I immediately felt emotional at the sound of the song. My mind drifted away to thoughts of us in LA, spending hours in bed after making love for hours. I would run my fingers across his body, feeling his skin to be certain that he remained real. He talked about settling down, but his ambitions making it impossible to start a family during the hot streak in his career. He had suffered early setbacks, and was finally receiving the work and recognition he had wanted. Time was working against him, he thought.

I did what I always do when someone confides in me: I urge them to seek solutions to eliminate the uncertainty. Decisions have to be made, even in situations of the heart.

Did I take my own advice? Not often.

"Do you love me?" he asked me, almost a whisper. I could hear the smile on his lips.

"Yes, very much," I responded honestly, nodding.

"What if I got very fat? Would you still love me?" he asked, sounding amused.

I hesitated, smiling into his chest. "Sarah?" he asked, sounding concerned. I laughed, and he joined me.

"Baby, you've got the face that launched a thousand ships," I answered into his chest, kissing him. "I would wage wars for you." He laughed at my dramatics.

"Even if I was fat?" he insisted, laughing.

"Baby, fat and bald and impotent," I responded.

"Wow," he said, sounding impressed. "That's some dedication."

"I'm nothing if not loyal," I replied. This felt like a strange conversation to be having a week after we met—but it also felt very normal. We hadn't been apart since we met, and the laws of time seemed to dissipate as soon as we were alone again.

He squeezed me tightly, and planted a hard kiss on my neck, making me moan involuntarily. My eyes rolled back and my mouth fell open at the feeling. He laughed. "I really do love that sound."

"Why did you ask me if I loved you?" I asked him. My insecurities began to simmer beneath the surface.

"It's likely that I will ask you this daily," he told me. We both chuckled softly, a quiet acknowledgment of our mutual fear in this situation.

I pulled away from him, and looked up into his face. My eyes flickered back and forth from his eyes to his mouth. I stretched on to my toes and moved my hands to either side of his face. He gripped my body closer to him, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"My answer will be the same everyday," I told him. I shook my head and gave him a half smile. "I mean it."

He leaned in and kissed me deeply on the lips. His tongue found my own, my teeth tugged on his lip, and his hands swept down to my ass. My blood heated up, as I kissed him back harder. I arched my back, pressing my body harder into his.

"I love you," he said, into my mouth. I moaned at the sound of those words. I pushed him backwards until he was pressed against the tile. In one swift move, I found myself pinned against the tile by his large, wet body. His mouth moved to my neck, across the tops of my shoulders, across my clavicle, down to my breasts...

With his face buried between my breasts, he grabbed my thighs and hoisted me up to his waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He wasted no time burying himself inside me. He caught my eye, holding me in place for a moment, his hardness deep inside. Holding my gaze, his blue eyes dark with desire, he began to move. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling of this new chapter of our love making. He loved me. Whether or not he would love me tomorrow, he certainly loved me at that moment. And I could feel it. And it felt so good.

We finally crawled into bed together. We faced each other, and I reached my hands out to touch his face.

"You really are stunning," I said quietly. "Especially like this."

He smiled shyly, looking so young. "Like what?" he asked me.

"Love looks good on you, Henry."

I kissed him tenderly on his lips. He rested his head on my chest, and I stroked his hair until we both fell asleep.