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His words nearly brought fresh tears to my eyes. Nodding, I helped him remove his shirt. He stood carefully, leaning on my arm as he stepped out of his gray sweatpants. Though his body had changed, the sight of him still stirred something deep within me.
As Oliver settled back onto the bed, I gently pulled his pants from his ankles. Gone were the sculpted muscles I remembered, replaced by a softer version of the man I loved. But it didn't matter. He was still Oliver.
"I want to taste you," he murmured, his eyes roaming over my body.
I shook my head, smiling softly. "I need you inside me. We could try your favorite position."
A grin spread across Oliver's face, a glimpse of his old self shining through. "They were all my favorite position."
"You know the one I'm talking about," I teased, feeling a warmth spread through me at our playful banter.
With some effort and a fair bit of distraction – Oliver's hands seemed magnetized to my skin – we managed to position him against the padded headboard.
"Mr. Fox, I'm not a piece of meat," I chided gently as his fingers traced patterns on my skin.
"I can't resist," he admitted. "Get naked."
I obliged, slowly removing my yoga pants and underwear, hyper-aware of Oliver's appreciative gaze. As I climbed onto the bed, I was struck by a wave of emotion. For months, I'd battled with myself, angry at Oliver but unable to truly hate him. Now, I realized the truth that had been there all along – I still loved him.
As I knelt beside him, our eyes met. The connection between us felt stronger than ever, as if the trials we'd faced had forged our bond anew. Oliver reached out, cupping my face in his hand.
"I've missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Not just this, but... you. Us."
I leaned into his touch, turning to press a kiss against his palm. "I've missed us too," I admitted. "I'm sorry it took me so long to see it."
Oliver pulled me closer, our foreheads touching. "We're here now," he said softly. "That's what matters."
I knelt beside Oliver, my breath hitching as I gripped the base of his cock. My gaze locked onto his, determined. "Don't tell me no. I want this, and I know you do too."
He exhaled sharply, a hint of resistance in his eyes quickly replaced by raw desire. His breathing grew heavier as I extended my tongue, teasing his sensitive tip. A bead of precum formed, and I licked it away, savoring the salty taste. I repeated the motion, eliciting a low groan from him.
Oliver's hand tangled in my hair, guiding my head as I took him deeper, the scent of him filling my senses. His hips bucked involuntarily, and I knew he was close. "Oh fuck, I’m coming," he gasped, his voice strained.
The first hot spurt of his release hit my tongue, and I swallowed eagerly, not wanting to waste a drop. He emptied himself into my mouth, each pulse sending a thrill through me. When he was spent, he slumped against the headboard, eyes closed, chest heaving.
"You came fast," I remarked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
His eyes fluttered open, filled with a mix of embarrassment and longing. "It’s been months."
"Months? You expect me to believe that?" I raised an eyebrow, incredulous.
"I haven’t gotten myself off or come since we last made love," he admitted, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
I stared at him, astonished. "Why the hell not?"
"I didn’t feel right or in the mood. I love you so much that the next time I came, I wanted it to be with you," he said softly, his sincerity cutting through the air.
"I’m sorry I can’t say the same," I confessed, a teasing smile playing on my lips. "I resurrected my vibrator."
"You can put it back to bed. I’m here now," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
"I want to start over," I said, shifting closer to him. "No secrets. If you know something, no matter how horrible, I want to know."
"I promise," he whispered, his eyes earnest.
I leaned in, capturing his mouth with mine. His lips were thick and sensual, the scruff on his face scratching my skin, but I didn't care. My fingers threaded through his longer hair as his hand found my breast, kneading gently before sliding between my legs. He brushed two fingers over my swollen clit, and I gasped, my hips rolling in response.
"Oliver!" I cried, my voice breaking as my orgasm tore through me. My body convulsed, unable to hold back, as the pleasure surged. It only took half a minute before I shattered, my muscles quivering uncontrollably. Oliver’s fingers kept rubbing, prolonging the sensation until I finally went limp, collapsing against the headboard, breathless and spent.
