The Season of Us

Summer

The rays of the sun were strong, the waves of heat penetrating their skins without mercy, but his stare was more fevered. They were in a rowboat, along the lake, the shining water keeping them afloat, the humid air around them juxtaposed perfectly against the cool water. His eyes were on her, his Southern woman, as she looked about the horizon, the reflection of the water highlighting the soft features of her face, the tresses in her hair mimicking the undulation of the soft waves around them.

She could feel his stare, the way his chocolate eyes always bore into her flesh, the tenderness in his gaze so earnest, she had to look away, lest she be left blinded. He suggested they go for a ride in the row boat, but when she settles inside all she is reminded of is her time in the North when he led her to the border in a similar style. The waters were dark and murky, just like their prospects of meeting each other once again, but as she regards the clear waters of Switzerland, she can't help but admire the twist of fate life dealt them, how no matter where she was, he always found her.

As he continues to row the boat, she watches his muscles ripple under his shirt, the sweat that starts to taint his immaculate brow, and she is reminded of last night, their first night as man and wife. He led her to their bedroom, quiet and dark, with just the warm summer breeze filling their nostrils. He was nervous, never having touched another before, and his hands shook as he unraveled her. But little did she know that with a single graze of her fingers, he came undone, her touch making him feel like the stroking of a live wire. She recalls last night, when his sturdy weight was on top of her, his fringe damp with sweat, the tentative roll of his hips into hers, the firmness of his rear when she urged him to spill inside her. When he held her after, while she waited for the calming of their stuttering heartbeats, she outlined his face with her fingers, her touches against his features stoking the embers of his fire.

The thought alone causes a blush to creep up her cheeks, the memories of last night seared into her flesh, the heat around her all of a sudden dull in comparison as she recalls the friction generated between their bodies. She knows he feels it too, for his fingers linger on her a bit longer, his stare harboring the secrets of her caresses, the patterns she drew into his skin marking him as hers for eternity.

She doesn't want to interrupt the moment, though, the solitude of the glimmering water a welcomed respite from  the constant chatter in her mind, but when she looks at him, with his hair combed back against his face, accentuating the sharp angle of his jaw, his eyes widen slightly, as if she's caught onto what his mind is playing, until they soften completely, her gentle soldier broken from his reverie.

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When he docks the boat, he takes her hand in his, his calloused palm gliding over her smooth one, before interlacing their fingers such that their hands are bound seamlessly. Pulling him towards the shaved ice stand, she opts for a lemon flavored one, whereas he settles for cherry.

Sitting along the dock, their feet hanging, she doesn't remember the last time he seemed this relaxed, the tension in his jaw disappearing as he scoops up his cherry flavored refreshment. As the warm summer breeze whips through her long tresses, she focuses on the stain the dessert has left on his normally pouty lips, the tint accentuating the plumpness of his bottom lip, and before she knows it she reaches for his face, savoring the taste of his lips, the dessert's sweetness only coming in second to his, her own shaved ice long forgotten.

When their lips dance, the world turns to slow motion, their normal languid movements turning into frenzied ones, the summer heat around them exacerbating the warmth traveling down their bodies, the air around them suddenly suffocating. All she can feel is him, his tongue gliding against hers, the vibrations from the sudden moan escaping his throat, his palms wrapping around the small of her back, steadying her in her lustful haze.

When they break apart, she notices he struggles to find his composure, her usually stoic paramour suddenly displaying a feral glint in his eyes, his pupils dilated with the simple pleasure of her lips melding against one another. As his eyes bore into hers, she understands his silent request, the immediate need to have their bodies pressed against each other, a lust that had been subdued before given their uncertain predicament, but now allowed to be set free like a beast uncaged, ravaging them completely.

She leads him back to their wooden home, her twin flame suddenly bashful from her boldness, her no nonsense businesswoman persona coming in full force. This time, though, he doesn't hold much hesitation, as if accepting the fact that the melding of their contours against each other was the most perfect union, the likening of their souls fitting each other like puzzle pieces paling in comparison to the wild roaring of their heartbeats.

As if they couldn't contain themselves any longer, he hoists her up on the kitchen counter, the tiles cool against her heated skin even through the fabric of her dress. And when he looks down upon her, she still sees the kindness in his eyes clouded through his lust. Reaching up to cup his face, she glides her fingers along the angle of his jaw, traveling down his neck, until she links her hands behind it, toying with the short silky strands at the back of his head, until she rests his forehead on his, their heated breaths creating a haze around them, her forever lover the most tantalizing mirage.

They move in a fevered passion, stripping each other of their clothing hastily, until they are bare, completely exposed, but she never felt safer. She glides her fingers along the ridges of his chest, the planes of his abdomen taut from his training, before drawing him closer into her heat. As he lays her down on their counter, he hovers over her, the scorching air around them causing him to sweat profusely, salty droplets falling on her, seeping into her skin and burning her. She links her legs at his waist to draw him closer and he starts to move with a renewed fire, their sighs and gasps the only thing heard in the stillness of their home. Feeling the pressure build from within, he buries his head in the crook of her neck, his fingers traveling down to her nerves, sandpaper hands with a velvet touch, until they find their rapture, melting in each other's embrace, their ragged breaths punctuating the silence around them.

Peppering small kisses into her skin, she relishes the feeling of his lips on her skin, the lushness of his lips causing her to hum in contentment. With their bodies still linked, their forms still naked from their rendezvous, he carries her upstairs into their bedroom, laying her down on the cool sheets as she comes down from her high. As they separate, she mewls in frustration, suddenly feeling barren without him. But ever the caring man, he comes back with a cool glass of water to temper their lust, before joining her in bed, her thigh slipping between his, her fingers splayed across the hollows of his cheekbones, as she flutters a tiny kiss on his nose, one that makes him smile a fool's smile, the humid summer air around them enveloping them in their own world.