AFTER Hero

Sunday Roast

*LIVIA*

You know that feeling when you wake up in the middle of a beautiful dream? Your eyes open, and you do everything you can to drift back to sleep to return to the same dream, but it never happens. So you lay there. Thinking about it. Analyzing it. Fantasizing. Daydreaming.

Or, when something happens in your life that is so unexpected. Almost magical, you have to ask yourself over and over: did this really happen? You got the job you spent years studying for, you got the baby they told you was impossible to have, you met the one celebrity you've had a deep love for what seems like a lifetime. . . You found The One.

I remember afterwards I snuggled into his chest, our feet tangled together, bare and warm, twisted like vines. It was a tranquil moment. We woke up wearing each other. Skin on skin. We smelt like one another. Tasted like each other. My jasmine scent spread onto his neck. His minty heat soaked into my skin. I could still taste his sweat on my lips combined with our warmth and my tears.

An ache throbbed between my legs. Cutting me deep like I was ripped in two down there. But his touch. Oh his touch. His touch was protective, careful, deliciously warm and makes the agony worth it. It was the most sensual and beautiful moment of my life. I skim my fingers along the edge of my lips, the valley of my chest, the length of my arm, the curve of my jaw retracing Hero's steps as I close my eyes and relive every touch he marked on my body.

Bleeding was the worst part. I felt fragile. Stretched like taffy. Sore. And when I bursted into tears because I smeared blood on the sheets Hero just cradled me, and said over and over it's okay. He held me tight.

I'm curled up on my side, Hero's strong arms constrict around my waist. Our feet overlapping. I rest there for a minute enjoying the silence and the transition of fall outside. The mild breeze rocks against the window. Leaves swirl in the air like bits of gold foil as the Capital reshapes into a blanket of orange, crisp wind, plucked trees, heavier raincoats, closed-toe shoes.

I'm welcomed with a lazy moan and Hero pulls me tight into his hot chest. I inhale his precious, heavenly scent that puts my senses on overdrive. I want more of him. I can't seem to get enough.

He presses his lips into my hair, "I'm madly in love with you."

His voice is low, deep, and drags against my ear. Sexy enough to make me soft and wet between my thighs.

"Hero?"

"Mhmm. . ." He moans again sleepily.

"How was it for you? You know. . . Like I know you've done it before. . . So I - "

"Shhhhh." He replies, eyes closed.

"I love you. Only you. It was. . . Perfect, okay? Don't worry."

Okay. But the self doubt creeps in. I can't help but compare. What if he's had better? All I did was lay there limp against the matress and. . . Cry. I shiver, horrified.

I roll over into his chest and drift back off.

*HERO*

The second I opened my eyes I had a major hard on. Probably from her virginal tightness and heat. Breaking through her narrow, compressed warmth was like. . . Holy fuck. It had me seething and pulsing within seconds. I felt like a horny kid all over again experiencing a orgasm for the first time. Except with her, it was the best it could ever possibly get.

But my dick. . . It was straining. All the blood in my body drained to the tip of my erection. It needed another release. I almost wanted to take her right here and now, but I know she's still fragile. I give one of her perky breasts a gentle rub. They were real and perfectly round. I stroke my thumb over her rosy nipple, loving the way it responds so quick to my touch. My body gets a sudden crave to taste her. To make her come. But I can't do that again yet. She needs time.