At His Mercy

Part 30

She follows me into our room, the door hasn't even clicked shut, when I turn and kiss her, slamming her back into the door. The adrenaline surges through my body.  my heart drumming so loud in my chest; I can barely think straight.  I take her face in my hands and kiss her as if my life depends on it, grinding her body against the oak. its a visceral hunger that seems to burn through us like the heat of a thousand fires. she kisses me back matching my force.   Within seconds I have her skirt ruched up and am fumbling with my own clothes. then I have lifted her against her door and I'm inside her, she gasps and wraps her legs around me.  This carnal desire has been building all night, simmering away ready to combust. I bite her neck and shoulders as I pound into her. 

her fingers are entwined in my hair and she grabs it and tugs, pulling my head backwards.  it's painful but I don't care, if anything it excites me further. I glare at her and slam into her harder, biting the swell of flesh just above the exposed slope of her breast. she cries out and bites out my name. I've never heard anything so satisfyingly sweet as her voice when she says it.  Agonised and yet desperate at the same time. 

Then it's over. Gently I lower her to the ground. she places her forehead on my shoulder and I kiss her head. then I'm staring into her doe brown eyes. 

'hey' she says softly -as if she's seeing me for the first time, in a long time.

'hey, stranger' I say back. Her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, hair dishevelled and eyes dilated.  I shut my eyes savouring the moment and committing the image to memory.  God I've missed her. 

slowly, gently.  we undress each other.  she places her hands under my sherwani and pushes it off my shoulders. then unbuttons my collar, carefully. I watch her in silent wonder. she lifts the shirt clean over my head. Places her hands over my chest.  Her feather light touch is excruciating. I want to grab her fingers and kiss them and stop the torture she is putting me through with her sensual touch. 

then its my turn, I pull her hair over one shoulder and away from her neck.  I reach behind and unclip her top, then slowly loosen the thread that that laces up her back.  Her skin is silky smooth to the touch and my fingers trace a path up to her shoulders where I let the material fall away. 

even though we've just made love, we stand there like two awkward strangers, the newness of seeing each other, the vulnerability and uncertainty that we seem to share endears me to her. she touches me as if its for the first time and I feel myself burn for her once again. She's leaving a trail of fire over my chest.  I shut my eyes and let myself feel her fingers move down my biceps and then into inside of my elbows. Cubital Fosa, I laugh as the words pop into my head. Aya raises an eyebrow quizzically. 

I laugh, shaking my head. 'thats excruciating!' I say.

She joins in the laughter, "Really?" when she laughs,  it is the most sincerely mellifluous sound I've heard in a long time.  I swear it feels like water after a drought, or a grain of rice after a famine.   She is like the sun after an age of darkness.  my heart seems to expand exponentially and for a moment I feel a curious emotion settle there. it takes a moment to recognise with some alarm what I'm feeling: hope. 

Aya's fingers are still at my waist as she sees the inquietude in my face. she looks up, uncertainty glimmering in her eyes. the spark I'd seen only moments before, waning. I grip her forearms as she begins to withdraw from me. 

'It feels good' I say, without knowing what's coming next.

'the sex? it was always-'

'-No' I say a little more abruptly than I'd intended. 'You. . . .being here. . . .with me. . . .'  I say searching her face to see if she feels the same.

Her smile is solemn and so sad, it makes me reach for her.  We've both been hurt- how can we ever really trust each other after everything that's happened. I place my hands on the back of her neck and draw her in, enveloping her in my arms.  Skin to skin, nothing is clear but the fact that we are here, now.

 I don't know how to tell her I need her. That I still love her. That I can't bear to lose her again. . . . .