A Fight to Remember

Fight For Me Pt. 2

***M rating!***

Meredith 

Now:

Whatever hesitation I had before was gone now. I turned around and leaned against him. His body was warm, his hands gentle. He gathered my hair behind me, detangling it with his fingers, while I curled onto his lap. A stream of warm water trickled from my crown to my neck and shoulders and down my back. Resting my head on my knees, I idly massaged my toes while he worked behind me. There was the 'snap' of the shampoo lid, and the familiar scent of purple flowers while he kneaded and lathered my scalp. His hands moved to my shoulders and back, massaging, kneading. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was those fearful sad eyes. Why was he crying? I reached up and grabbed his hand. I ached with him, and I didn't know why. Or, maybe I did... somewhere in me, a bit of me knew. I picked up the poof ball scrub thing and soaked it in the water, turning to face him.

He was my husband. He was... his name already escaped me, but the feeling was still there. Something was wrong. His gaze held mine, a sad and helpless look. A scared little dog. The sigh that escaped his lips was heavy with burden.

Seeing my concern, he blinked and ran a hand over his face as if to erase his feelings. I ignored it and picked up the floating sponge ball thing. He's my husband, I told myself. I'm his wife. "You're scared," I scrubbed down from shoulder to wrist on one arm, then the other side. Then his chest.

"I'm scared," he admitted finally.

I continued to wash his chest, his neck. I ran the scrubby thing along his freckled shoulders. "Why?"

"I don't want to lose you." The words were soft, but the ache behind them... the brokenness, churned in the undercurrent.

I massaged his hand, lathering his fingers. I didn't know what he meant exactly, but I felt that there was more going on then he wanted to share. I could try to ask... but it seemed pointless with my current state of mind. "You won't." I said, the first thing I thought of.

"I won't." He nodded, but his expression didn't change. He was elsewhere, lost in thoughts far away.

"Not so convincing." I squeezed his hand to bring him back to reality.

He squeezed back. "Sorry."

My hands left his and I rubbed his chest, I leaned in closer and kissed him sweetly, "I'm here." He wouldn't lose me. I sat on his lap, my back to his chest. The puffy ball thing floated in front of me and I put it in his hand and guided it to my breast.

"Hmm," he murmured against my shoulder. "You're here." His kisses on my neck made me shiver. The textured puffball moved in circles over my areola, making my breath hitch. His left hand slid down my side, down my thigh and up again. He kissed the other side of my neck and switched the puffball to the left.

"Derek," I whispered. I ran my hands along his legs, prickling the coarse hairs underwater.

He let go of the loofah and it floated and rolled freely in the water. Pulling me closer, his hands roamed under my breasts with a bar of soap while he kissed my trapezius. Stubble scratched my cheek, and I turned a little to meet his lips with mine. It was soft and gentle at first, but then his tongue scraped my teeth for entrance, and when I let him, he consumed me.

Fingers in his curls, I pushed him in deeper. He needed to know I wouldn't leave him. His hand slipped lower, pressed flat against my stomach, and his fingertips grazed my cleft. With his other hand, he raised my breast to his mouth, teasing it deftly with soft strokes of his tongue.

Feathered breaths on my shoulder, my breast, my cheek... He pressed and stroked, His touch everywhere, fingers and lips fluttering with a rhythm my body knew and loved. I panted as he brought me closer and closer to the orgasmic edge.