Kidnapped Love

Chapter 17

Chapter 17:   

Derek's kiss was a scorching path to my soul, a confirmation that pulsed through me, igniting every nerve. Love, raw and undeniable, pressed its claim as I mapped the contours of his muscled back. His arms, steel bands of protection and passion, cradled me from the countertop's edge, lifting me into the charged air between us.

We moved as one, his lips never parting from mine as he navigated the familiar terrain of the living room. The pull-out sofa creaked beneath his knee, a testament to memories already woven into its fabric. Laid upon those whispered stories, my breath hitched, my body an open book beneath his intense gaze. He moved slowly, placing his groin inches away from mine. His body tensed as he lowered himself to me, gently pressing his body against me. I could feel his hard package beneath his jeans. He continued to kiss me. I ran my hands through his dark hair, leaving it disheveled, and I pulled ever so lightly so he knew I wanted this.

His hands, strong yet tender, journeyed beneath my shirt, exploring with reverence the skin that hummed for his touch alone. And when he paused, seeking permission in a world where only our silent communication reigned, I drew him back to me, a silent plea laced with urgency.

He sat himself up on his knees as the button of his jeans gave way beneath his fingers, a whisper of caution wound its way into my racing heart. With a gentle, but firm touch, I halted the progress of his hands. His eyes, dark pools of want and worry, searched mine for a sign, any sign, that he hadn't overstepped.

"I'm sorry," I breathed out, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

Derek's smile was a balm to my frayed nerves, light and understanding in a single curve of his lips. He rejoined the ranks of my side, a comforting presence anchoring me amidst the storm of emotions.

"Are you mad at me?" My voice was barely audible, a tremulous note in the quiet room.

"Of course not," he murmured, his proximity a promise in itself. Fingers danced up my thigh, tracing lines of fire up to my cheek, pausing to linger on the fullness of my lips. "I wouldn't make you do anything you weren't ready for."

"I want to. It's just that..." I stammered. "I've never actually done 'that' before." I said hesitantly. As I confessed my inexperience, his smile took on a new quality, mischievous yet tender.

"You should have kept that to yourself," he teased, closing the distance once more. I looked at him, confused and worried. "Because it only makes me want you more."

And as he enveloped me within the circle of his arms, I realized that with Derek, every hesitation would be met with understanding and every leap of faith rewarded with love.

Resting my head against the solid warmth of Derek's chest, I let the rhythm of his heartbeat lull me into a state of tranquility. His breath rose and fell in a soothing pattern, an unspoken serenade for the night. He cradled me closer, as if we were two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting together. Kissing my forehead he leaned his head back.

"Where have you been all my life?" he murmured into the silence, the words carrying both wonder and a hint of playful exasperation.

"Waiting for you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, but in the stillness, it was as loud as a confession. The corners of his mouth stretched into a smile that radiated through his eyes, lighting them up with an emotion so pure it made my chest tighten.

His fingers wove through my hair, gently massaging my scalp, sending waves of relaxation over me. Between the tender touch and the steady cadence of his breathing, sleep crept upon me like a silent thief, and I surrendered without a fight, slipping into a dreamless abyss.