“I can’t believe you are here with me,” I said, bringing my open hand up to tremble over his stubble, tracing his chiseled jaw line, attempting to wipe away the tension that lingered there, sexual or otherwise.
“I’m here, my love, and fully healed,” he said, bringing up his hand to cup over mine. “Stop shaking. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’ve said that before, and yet I spent days without you. Some of them consciously worrying, others drugged and healing. But still, it was horrible.”
“I know. I felt you. Even as I couldn’t heal, you breaking through, using our connection to communicate... well, it told me that you were still alive, and that gave me something to fight for. Plus, it gave me hope. I knew you would find me. Loosing Vivian and Riker, though…” His voice left off on a crack.
“I’m so sorry we couldn’t save them, too. So sorry.”
He only nodded. His eyes sparkled as I brought my lips to his. What started out as a gentle press of flesh against flesh, a way of connecting, soon grew heated, a fight to get as close as possible to each other. Feeling this electric kiss warmed my entire body more than the steamy water did. Before I could even register that we’d moved, he pushed my back to the wall. As his mouth took mine in a fierce play for domination, his chest pushed against me. He grabbed my wrists so tightly that a small throb of pain where he cut off the blood there coursed down my arm. It was erotic, alluring, to be needed, wanted so much, and I didn’t mind in the slightest any discomfort it caused. That, right now, meant living with the man I loved. Rather than complain, I kissed him back, gave as good as I got.
Our tongues tangled together as he wiggled his hips between my thighs. I wanted my clothes to melt away in that moment. When he released my wrists, I raised my arms, begging him to undress me. After he tore off my shirt, up and over my head, I found myself blinking, only to find him falling to his knees. His large hand roamed over my chest, making short work of removing my bra. The brush of his rough fingers over my nipples made my inner walls contract.
“More,” I wheezed, begging him to take me, my hips moving in some wild abandon, begging for attention right where my body wanted it most.
As he pulled my pants and panties down in one smooth movement, I kicked out of them, pleading with him to touch me as I spread my legs apart, keeping my back against the wall. He dragged those same rough fingers over my mound. My already jagged breath caught as he squeezed them over my tiny patch of manicured hair. Only, as they fell to my folds, and his fingers began to trace my every line, I couldn’t stop the movement of my hips from becoming faster and more erratic. By the time he dipped a finger inside of me, my lungs had apparently stopped working. I grew lightheaded as his warm breath bathed my wet flesh, as he teased me with his kisses full of glorious pressure.
His hands roamed around to my ass, tilting my hips forward until his tongue circled my opening. I writhed at the blessed torture until I saw stars. When his tongue danced over my clit, it took only a few licks to push me over the edge. I let the fierce orgasm take me, to rumble through me, until I clenched my thighs around his head.
He came to standing with his cock already in hand, directing the head to where he wanted it to go. I jumped up, pushed against him, taking more than he’d offered. Grabbing on, I let my nails dig into his back. He didn’t even flinch as he pushed himself deep inside me, his eyes suddenly closed tight, his mouth hanging open.
His hands moved from my ass, around to brace himself on the wall as his mouth came against mine again, kissing me swift and hard, just once, before sliding his cheek along mine. The stubble from his days being gone ignited a pleasure-filled burn across my skin. Tears stung my eyes as he moved in deeper. We had a fast, yet intimate dance standing there in the shower, allowing our need to take over, and our bodies to be greedy after our forced separation.
When I finally got a glimpse of his face again, as we both moved to fall over that precipice, it seemed contorted in pain, and I knew the feeling, as if I wouldn’t survive this pleasure. Yet, I cried out like a petulant child as I dared to play with death, once again, just to be with him. My inner walls gripped him as my contractions grew. While the outer edges of my vison greyed, he blurred right along with the steam filling the room.