Feels Like Home

The Moment

Mahri's POV:

I am unsettled and anxious in the best possible way. We pull into the driveway with the tree still resting in the back. Before he can open my door, I hop out of the car and into his arms. I can not wait for another second to be in his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and start unbuttoning his shirt, biting and kissing his neck. His skin is hot and inviting. He smells incredible, like pine trees and wood chips and a little bit of cinnamon. He is intoxicating. Without faltering, he reaches one arm under my ass and holds me there, his fingers daring to go to all of the places that drive me crazy. He is seemingly unphased and his fingers continue to roam as he searches for the house key.

I meet his lips with mine and I hear him moan. His voice sounds thick like syrup and rich like molasses and tobacco. I can't escape all of the images from the day. I remember how his kind words have spoken to my soul and how he has always spoken the truth to my heart. But it is hard to remember all of those gentle parts when he has turned my brain into jello. I am flush with lust and frantic with desire.

He doesn't stop kissing me and doesn't remove his lips from mine. Our movements are uncontrolled. He slams open the front door and just as quickly slams it shut again. Throwing his keys on the table, he refuses to let me go. His strong arms carry me across the house and directly to the bedroom door. He pauses before we enter the bedroom, his eyes a dark navy and he asks without saying a word if I am ready for this, for him, for what this will do for us, how this will change everything. I give him a slight nod and run my fingers on the side of his face, letting him know that I am sure about all of the places this will take us. My lips are already swollen and lonely for him.

He smiles. It is filled with hope and promise and lust. "I have a surprise for you outside of this room, but I am afraid that it must wait. I am not stopping until I have shown you the depths of my feelings for you."

Why is he still talking? I have waited too long for this.

The door to the bedroom flies open. "No complaints," I staccato my words in between breaths as I throw his shirt to the floor. He still has not put me down but is heading straight to bed. His steps are quick, his lips have again taken mine his grip on my ass has not wavered.

He places me on the bed and slows down a bit, running his hands through my hair. "Hang on a second," He leaves me there, full of desire and I see him begin to light candles. As they light up, I notice that peonies and orange blossoms fill every available space in the bedroom. The smell at once delights me and sends me back into one of my favorite memories. The candles flicker and the floral scents fill every inch of the room. Every sense has been accounted for. It doesn't surprise me. He is very thoughtful and quite meticulous, a trait that can be very rewarding.

He returns to bed, looming over me. His face is mere inches from mine. His eyes are dark as if there is something that he can't verbalize, a desire that drives me wild. I watch him forcibly control the pace of his movements, prolonging the wait for our union. He is deliberate, controlling himself to prolong our pleasure.

I know this night is important to both of us. This moment is full of promises and is decisively more than just a moment of pleasure. I wish I could explain to him that it means as much to me, but I think in his heart he knows. We both waited for this moment until it was right. My mind is clear. I am where I want to be. I am who I want to be with for the rest of the time that I am granted on this earth, and every moment granted to me in the afterlife.

The candlelight accentuates every muscle on his body. He is beautiful, a work of art. As his chest glistens in the dim light, I think about the way he handled the saw this afternoon, the way that I know his strong body will protect me, thinking of the way that he kept himself safe all of those years. My attraction to him is so much more than how he looks however, it is the soul of who he is. He cares deeply and loves hard. He remembers things that make me feel special. He can be stubborn, but that works in love as well as in life. With him, I am safe, I am challenged, I am satisfied. These thoughts are flying through my brain at a rapid pace as he walks around the room, finally returning to me. My heart rate has slowed, but my desire has not.