Forever Rain

Chapter 22

Rain

So this is what sex should feel like, an endless desire to intertwine our bodies, a blissful satisfaction of skin to skin. It's been so long since I've experienced this level of satisfaction, that I'm doubting whether I even know how to have sex with anyone else besides Damon. I've lost count of how many times we've indulged, and now, we're left to catch our breaths against each other's bare body.

I'm lying on his chest, tracing his name onto his solid abs. It reminds me of the time I had done the same onto a rock while lying beside him. I had yearned to touch him then, but was immature, too inexperienced, that even kissing turned awkward with me.

He was the person I have lost my virginity to, the only person I have had sex with for at least two years after that, the only person it had felt right with. But our intercourse then was mere child's play compared to the intensity of our lovemaking now.

With the overwhelming narration and an entire bottle of wine from last night, we started out stormy and raging, pushing harder and deeper until our knees were weak. But as the night crawled by and the alcohol eases off its effect, our sessions were longer, more passionate, filled with deeper desires and explorations. We relearned every area of each other's body—which parts made my back arch and left Damon groaning, which spots cause me to scream for more, which section his tongue likes to prolong at and my fingers like to caress.

The sun hadn't risen, and although our minds yearn for sleep, we couldn't let ourselves disperse from the presence of each other. His hand is gently massaging my scalp, entangling his fingers through my hair as he does so.

"Did you know my dad got married again? To a woman closer to his age this time." Damon tells me as he twirls a piece of my hair around his index finger. We've been updating one another about changes in our lives between sessions. "It's been a year and they're still together."

"Really?" This does surprise me that anyone can tolerate his arrogance for that long, but nonetheless, I don't wish ill on him. "And what about you Damon? Married? Kids?" The questions cause bile to rise in my stomach, realizing that it was a question I should have initially asked. What if he was happy with someone else and my presence had thrown everything out of the loop? What if he was happy with Lizzy?

I feel the vibration of his chuckle as he replies, "Do I strike you as a guy who would do such a thing? No, Rain. I am not married, nor do I have kids." His response makes me gulp, knowing that last part was not entirely true.

"My mom passed away," I tell him, unsure why it was necessary at this moment. "My dad left one day and never came back. The house has been there, empty, for the past three years. I've been visiting regularly to maintain and repair what I can."

There's a huge sigh as his chest rises and falls. "To think, there were probably times we were in town together and never even knew." Maybe it was for the best. "Anyways, I'm proud of you, Rain. I always knew you could do anything you wanted. I never wanted to be the person that held you back."

"It goes both ways. You couldn't see it, but I knew you didn't actually want to be a beach bum. Did you get to surf at all though?" I like the image of him with his hair all wet, peeling a wetsuit off to reveal this body.

"I tried once but I was terrible at it. It's best for my insurance premium if I stay away from surfing." I giggle, as he hoisted me on top of him, leaving me to straddle his pelvis. "I've missed you, Rain. Not a day went by that I didn't regret letting you leave that day." He brushes my hair behind my shoulder, and a sliver of shudders run down my spine.

"I've never thought I could do better without you," I admit. "I just didn't want to be a distraction in each other's life. If anything, I was the one who didn't feel I was good enough to be a part of your world, and I didn't want to offer you anything less."

"We were eighteen. That was such a burden that you have taken on yourself. I could have handled it, you know, whatever it was you were trying to protect me from. I could have handled it because it meant I wouldn't have to lose you."

Oh, Damon. He's right, we were only eighteen. But I have carried so much within those eighteen years versus the comfortable life he was accustomed to. He feels that losing me was his biggest loss, but losing himself would have been irreparable.

I settle my head against his chest and listen to the beat of his heart, the heart that carries my name. It's possible that I have doubted the strength of his feelings for me, but I stand by my decision I have made so many years ago, because that decision was made from the love I had for him.

He positions my face to his, looking down at me over those dark lashes, his blue eyes enthralling my every nerve.

No one ever made me feel this way, not since teenager Damon. There was a time that I wanted to believe the rapport we had was juvenile, exaggerated from the young and naive minds we possessed. I was sure that he would have forgotten about me by now, and that my heart wouldn't skip the same when he was near. But here we are, trapped and consumed by the lust, the passion, the attraction that keeps pulling us back to one another.

Just as I thought our energy could handle no more, he turns me to my back, running his hand up my calf, past my thigh, until it's clasping my behind.

Our bodies crave every touch, every sense. Our desire is hot and heavy, but our love is intricate and nostalgic. No matter how deep he is inside of me, no matter how tangled our bodies are, it isn't enough. Every thrust, every moan, every caress reminds us that there can be no one else, that this moment is ours, and ours alone.

The pleasure didn't just come from the orgasms of our physical bodies, but also the contentment of our souls. With Damon, it is warmer, brighter, and better in every possible way.