Avenoir

Avenoir - John

John

Marlena feels absolutely fucking heavenly as I push her against the door. My mind is still fucking reeling. Those five words. For God's sake, kiss me! I haven't asked her anything, I haven't needed to. She asked me to kiss her. She made her feelings clear in those five little words and I am floating on cloud nine.

I still don't really understand what is going on. I am running on pure adrenaline right now, afraid if I slow down that I'll realize that this is a dream, and I will open my eyes to find my arms empty and my cock throbbing with a need that will once again go unsatisfied.

A dream. I think about earlier and the look on her face when I tried to explain that I was dreaming of Kristen. The way she looked away and fiddled with her hair. I think about her legs on the bed, and her shoes on the floor. I think about the way I wrapped my thigh around her.

Oh fuck. She was responding. None of it was a dream. She was as into that as I was. I pull back and look at her, "You were kissing me back," I say, just knowing that she will understand what it is I am talking about.

She gives me a small, knowing smile that makes my heart flutter in my chest. "I was kissing you back," she confirms my realization. "Yes, honey. I was kissing you back."

I just... I feel a little at a loss here. She was kissing me back. She wants me to kiss her now... does she... Well of course she must have feelings for me. Marlena wouldn't... she doesn't do relationships casually. She would never risk our friendship if she didn't have feelings for me. If she didn't love me. I think again of her on the bed, looking away, and I realize it wasn't embarrassment on her face. It was pain. Oh fuck, here I was trying to save her pain and embarrassment and instead, I was causing it.

"I lied," I tell her quickly and with all honesty and sincerity. "I wasn't dreaming about Kristen." I lean forward and smooth the side of my nose up and down the soft skin of her cheek. It's so familiar and right to be this close to her. To be this intimate. I have dreamed about and longed for this moment for years. It's a moment I thought would never come. But it has and I have to be honest about how I feel. Completely honest. "Oh baby, I was dreaming about you. It's always you."

She smiles, her green-gold eyes glittering as she walks her fingers around the back of my neck and then slides her forearm against the base of my skull, pulling me into her so that she can press her body firmly against mine. The feeling of her warmth, of her curves fitting into the spaces my body holds just for her is sublime. I feel like I have died and gone to heaven.

"I love you." Her breath is warm and damp against my ear and my cock jumps with the feel and the sound of her. "I've always loved you. Always, always, always."

"I can't believe this is happening," I say as my fingers twine in her hair, and I pull away to look at her again. "I can't believe you're really here. Are you sure... this isn't a dream, is it?"

For a moment, it is a very real and terrifying fear. I have dreamed variations on this theme for months. No, years, if I am honest. She's inhabited my dreams for more than a decade, haunting me, tempting me, taunting me. I wonder for a mad moment if I am about to wake up in Kristen's hospital bed, alone and aching with the loss of her all over again.

"It's not a dream," she says softly. Her left arm is still around my neck, her right hand reaches up and her fingertips gently brush over my lips. "Do you feel that?" she asks, her voice a familiar evocative melody.

I feel it. I feel her touch in my lips, in my chest, in the turgid stiffness between my legs. I close my eyes and lose myself in the sensations: her touch, her scent, her warmth. Even the sound of her soft breaths brings back a thousand beautiful memories.

"Yes," I say. "I feel it. But honestly, I don't understand," I catch her hand in mine and press a kiss to her fingers. "You love me?"

Her lips quiver for a moment and her eyes grow glassy as she tries to hold back the tears. When she finally collects herself, she simply nods.

"How long?" I ask. I don't even know where to start, or what to do.

"Too long," she says simply. "John, there's a lot you don't know. There's a lot I need to tell you."

I search her face. I have loved this face since almost the first moment I remember. She was the first person who actually saw me. Who saw a man behind the bandages. A lost and frightened man who was unsure of who he was and where he belonged in the world. She was gentle with me and then she was grateful and sweet and then argumentative and feisty. And then she became my world. She and the children became my whole world. They were where I belonged. Even when it was revealed that I was not Roman Brady, she was still my rock, my anchor.

She still is. She is still the sun I revolve around. Without her, my life doesn't make sense.

With her at arms-length, it is confused and jumbled, and it is hard to make it through the day. But her killer smile, the amazingly warm way she will hug or hold you, her embrace generating the most amazing recuperative powers... being a recipient of those things brings me contentment if not joy.

"I want to hear it all, Doc," I tell her. "But first, I need to do this."

I draw her to me again and I take her face between my hands and nudge her lips open with my tongue. It doesn't take much to persuade her and she whimpers softly as I tease her with my mouth and tongue. The taste of her is a million memories rolled into one delicious sensation. "Oh fuck," I groan as I feel her hand grab my ass again. "Oh God baby, I love you too. I love you so much."

I push her back against the door and roll my hips against her. She can't fail to feel the evidence of my desire for her, and she proves as much as she cries out as the hard bulge of my eager dick presses into the softness of her belly.

"I want you," my words are smudged against her fucking gorgeous lips as I suck and bite them. "Oh fuck, Marlena, I always want you. But I've never... I thought... I thought you didn't feel that way about me-"

She swallows my words as she attacks my mouth and I moan as she pulls my hips even harder against her. Her tongue slides along mine and my eyes roll back in my head for a moment as she pulls my dark cotton shirt from my pants.

"Shut up, John," she murmurs before she bites my lower lip. And then I feel her fingernails scratching lightly over the skin of my back and I groan, thrusting my hips against her. She gasps and I bite her jaw and kiss my way to her ear. There I suck and lick the fragrant skin of her neck. She still wears my favorite perfume, and she still tastes slightly salty but at the same time, sweet like honey and roses.

"Aw fuck, baby!" I try different spots, trying to find the one that makes her mewl like a kitten and eventually, I am rewarded with a heady whimper and moan, and I feel her hips undulate against me. I know what she wants, and I want it too. I crave it. I've thirsted for it for years.

I step back slightly and fumble with the buttons of her pastel yellow pinstripe blazer as I look into her eyes. Her pupils are wide with arousal. God, I'd almost forgotten how delicious she looks when she's turned on.

When I have slipped all of the buttons out of their holes, I pull the jacket roughly down over her shoulders. She fucking whines when I do it and I feel a shudder of lust and need run through my body like a fucking freight train.

The arms of the jacket are still around her wrists as I pull her across to the sofa. I pull the jacket off and untuck the white t-shirt from her pants. She stares at me, her eyes wide, her pupils huge and inky with desire.

I begin to unbutton my shirt, but she stills my hands.

"John," she bites her lip and looks like she's about to cry. "John, we can't do this. You're married. You're married to Kristen. I can't ask you to betray your vows."