Where the Stars Fall

37 | You're beautiful

"OH, BRIAN..." A shallow moan escapes from her throat as she leans forward and flattens her hands on my chest. I'm certain she can feel how wildly my heart is thudding against her fingers.

I let my eyes linger for a little while on her face, the beautiful face that has invaded my thoughts and tormented me these past months. On the closed eyelids and slightly parted lips. On the soft skin of her neck, the delicate line of her collarbone and the firm breasts that sway with the swivelling movement of her hips. On the perfect curve of her waist.

It's insane.

I lift my torso from the improvised bed and sit, to take her head in my hands and stifle her gasps with my mouth. It's a long, deep kiss, filled with passion and raw need.

We need to stop for a moment to catch our breaths.

I wrap my arms around her and my hand travels up the length of her back until it reaches the nape of her neck. I grab it firmly and leave a wet trail of kisses down her neck and collarbone – she sighs and arches slightly back – and then further down to her breasts, to her hard nipples, and take it all in. Each inarticulate gasp that vibrates right through me. The hot breath and softness of her mouth. The feel of her kisses and the taste of her salty-sweet skin. The scent of her body, which fits right into mine. So perfectly.

"What do you want? Tell me." I ask with a hoarse voice, my teeth grazing her chin.

I know what I want. I want her. And I want her to want me, as badly as I want her. Because she owns my heart. Always has.

"You. I want you," she breathes out against my neck, sending ripples of warmth through my body, leaving me completely undone.

My lips find hers again and our tongues play with each other, as she continues to straddle me to the same tantalising rhythm, that same perfect tempo, the warm dampness between her thighs making my mind race and my heart hammer like mad.

I can't stop touching her. My hands are everywhere, her face, her lips, her messy hair, travelling up and down her back. I try to pull her closer, if that's even possible. I need to feel her. I want her to feel what she's doing to me.

I'm completely lost in her, drowning in her, entranced by the feeling of my skin sliding against hers, and our bodies entirely absorbed in each other.

I hold her in place and feel her full breasts pressed against my chest. I nibble her neck again and she bends down to murmur something indistinct into my mouth as she writhes within my arms, against me.

I love you? Was that it?

We are completely immersed in each other as pleasure slams hard through our bodies, each thrust another crashing wave, each breath growing more and more ragged as we drift closer to the edge. My hands keep stroking her back until they drift slowly to her waist, and then her hips, which I hold firmly, to slam down against my body with urgent, furious movements.

The pace quickens and our gazes lock. It's so intense it's almost startling.

And then she lets go and I watch her losing control. How she lets her eyelids flutter shut, how she bites her lip, twists her body and arches her back in an uncontrollable motion, to then return to me.

Our foreheads are touching, our voices gasping, our breathing mixing along the relentless frenzied moving of our bodies when a tingly, warm feeling begins to sweep through me too. My breath hitches, my muscles clench and my body convulses to the sound of a deep hoarse groan that bursts out and echoes in the silent room.

I draw back and look at her.

Half-lidded eyes, still breathing heavily, her chest is heaving up and down rapidly, her skin damp and red from the scraping of my stubble.