Bound to You

Chapter 41

The apartment smelled like lemon-scented cleaning solution. At some point, you'd bought furniture: a bed, a couch, a nightstand, but only on one side of the bed. I spent that first night without you, and it was strange, being so completely alone for the first time that I could ever remember.

All the next day, I unpacked boxes, putting clothes in the closet that you'd supplied hangers for and cooking you dinner for when you finally came. I hadn't heard from you for most of the day, since it was your first day, and you were busy figuring out how things worked at the new hospital.

And then your key turned in the lock of our new home, and I got butterflies deep in my stomach because you were here, and this was real, and I was so happy.

Your smile lit up the whole apartment when you walked in the door and closed it behind you, and I was in your arms in seconds. You lifted me up off the ground, wrapped hard in your embrace, and I smelled your shampoo, your cologne, the scent of your skin.

"Where's your stuff?" I asked when you'd set me back on the ground.

"Why are you wearing clothes?" Your hands grasped my waist, and you looked me up and down, like I was naked instead of wearing jeans and a tank top.

"You first."

You smiled at me and said. "I wanted to see you first. Everything's in the car. I'll get it later. Your turn."

"Because I wanted to see your eyes while I undressed," I said, even though the real answer was because I was making dinner. But I walked back to the kitchen and turned off the oven, the stove, so the food wouldn't burn.

And then I met you in the living room. You hadn't even kissed me yet, but I could forgive that for a moment as I led you to a chair and pushed you down into it. You settled in while I pulled my tank top off over my head, revealing my bare breasts. At that, you groaned, like we hadn't touched in ages, even though you'd had your hands in my panties two days ago.

I reached for my shorts, ready to be bare for you, but you put up your hand to stop me. "Wait a second. Come here." You held out your hand to me, and I reached out, setting just my fingertips against yours. You curled yours around mine and pulled me to you, until I was straddling your lap in the chair. Your hands moved into my hair, and you cupped my head, bringing my mouth down to yours until our lips were just barely pressed together.

"This is the happiest I've ever been," you said, and I felt a lump form in my throat. I would not cry right now, half naked in your lap. I pushed my mouth against yours, until I was swallowing your moans. I rocked on your lap, felt how you went immediately hard against me.

"I love you," I said, standing back up. "But if you keep talking like that, I'm going to melt."

You bit your lip to hold back I smile. "I'm good with melting."

And then I dropped my jeans and your smile fell. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

I held out my hand for you, and you took it, getting up off the chair and following me into the bedroom. I really wanted to let you fuck me right there on the floor in the living room. We'd never fucked on the floor before. But I couldn't resist having you in our bed, the one that I'd slept in last night, thinking about you the whole time, counting the minutes until you came home.

I'd set out candles all over the room, but they were all unlit, as I pulled you down on top of me on the bed. You didn't even notice them, and I didn't blame you. Your mouth stayed attached to mine as you unbuttoned your shirt and unbuckled your belt and kicked off your pants. And then you were gloriously naked against me, and I was amazed at how this never got old, how you could touch me just like this over and over and it never stopped being the most amazing thing I'd ever felt.

Your mouth moved down my body, and I wanted to protest because this wasn't what I had planned. I'd planned to do deliciously naughty things to you until you begged for mercy, but wasn't this always how it was? You always got your hands on me, and then I was the one begging for mercy. Your mouth closed over my pussy, and I gasped, grabbing handfuls of your hair and squeezing my eyes shut. Fuck, you were so good at eating me out.

I was rocking against your face now, so close to coming, when your mouth moved. I started to whimper, to tell you how close I'd been, but when your mouth moved lower, I knew you knew. I froze as your tongue found its way down, licking gently against my other hole. I'd certainly never had anyone's mouth there before, not even yours, and I was shocked at how good it felt, how it seemed to make everything else in my body speed up, until I didn't care what you did to me as long as you didn't stop making me feel like this.

I pressed my fingers to my clit as your tongue lapped at me, and the sensation was so much that I didn't know what to focus on, what to pay attention to first. All I knew was that I was going to explode. You paused, and I was about to scream at you not to stop, when two of your fingers found the entrance to my pussy, soaking wet with my juices and your spit. You dove deep, and that was all it took to make me scream, to make every muscle in my body clench around you.

You waited until I was calm, until I'd settled back onto the bed before you rolled me over. We hadn't spoken about this since we were back from Paris, hadn't discussed when and where it would happen, but now that you were spreading me open, pressing your finger into my ass, I wanted it so bad, wanted to experience this new thing with you.

Your body covered mine, your finger buried deep in me, and you said, "Do we have lube?"

I loved the way you asked it. Do we have lube. Because this was our home, and everything belonged to us, and if one of us had things necessary for sex, we both did, and we'd be using them together.

I pressed my face into our comforter and nodded, pointing vaguely at the nightstand on the other side of the room. Your hand left me, but you were only gone a second before you returned, dropping a condom on the bed beside me and popping open the bottle of lube I'd bought for this exact moment.

I waited to feel the cold liquid, but there was nothing, and when I turned to look at you over my shoulder, your eyes were on me.

"Is this okay?" you asked. "I mean, are you ready for this? We can wait, I promise."

Without a word, I wrapped my hand around the back of your neck and pulled your mouth down to mine, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips until you sighed against me.

"Everything's okay," I said, and I hoped you understood what I meant: that as long as we were together, everything you wanted was yours, everything you needed you could have, everything I had and was belonged to you.

You nodded, and then I felt your lubed fingers press into me, and I gasped. You stayed with me, your forehead pressed to mine at an odd angle as you stretched me, taking long slow minutes until I finally felt the head of your prick against my opening. You'd somehow managed to put on a condom without ever leaving me.

In the end, anal sex didn't feel awful like I sort of always thought it would. It was different, unlike anything else, and when you pinched my clit and pushed in deep to come inside me, I couldn't have kept myself from orgasming if I had tried, and coming around you like that, with you filling every part of me with your tongue or your fingers or your cock, it was like being absorbed into you in the most exquisite way.

After, we ate dinner in bed, naked, and laid against each other until we started to doze off, and I knew what you said was true: this was the happiest I'd ever been.