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“What…”
Immediately I’m brought back to sitting in the living room of his New York apartment, his camera on me as we masturbate together. Only one thing comes to mind now.
“I don’t look like that anymore,” I inform him just as his free hand meets my neck.
“What I am hearing is I need updated footage.”
Nerves wreak havoc on the moment as I suddenly feel small.
“What is it?” His question hangs in the air as he leans forward to lay his head on my chest. I’m quiet while he listens to the steady thump of my heartbeat, slipping his hand under my shirt to stroke my skin.
There are stretch marks there that I know he can feel and if he goes farther down, into my panties, he’ll find a scar there.
We’ve had sex, of course. But always with the lights off, per my instructions.
“You think I don’t know that you wish to hide from me?” He asks, turning his face to press a kiss to my ravaged skin. “This beautiful body carried our children.”
“I know,” I start, stroking his hair as I stare up the ceiling.
“You think you do.” He lifts his head so his chin presses into me. “My love does not require you to look the way youdid when we met.” He slides lower so he lines up with my sex, as if he can hear it calling from him.
There’s a moment of hesitation from both of us before he takes charge, leaning up to turn on my bedside lamp. I close my eyes, terrified to be exposed but unwilling to turn him away. Unwilling to let go of a potentially healing experience.
The glow behind my closed lids is all I allow myself as he places his palms on my thighs, his fingertips inches away from the bottom of my sleep shorts.
“May I touch you?”
I’m nodding before I can overthink it.
“May I look at you?”
This question requires a pause before I answer, but I choose to nod again.
“You have to open your eyes,cuore mio,” he begins as I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “You have to see how I react to your body so you believe me.”
“I want so badly to take all the time we lost and wish it away,” I whisper as a tear escapes from beneath my closed lid. “I feel like a stranger to you sometimes.”
“Shh,” he consoles as he wipes the tear away. I open my eyes to see him looming over me, the ends up his lips upturned. “I have many regrets. But we are much more suited for one another now, no?”
It’s an answer I have to mull over, pausing my emotional reactions to give space for my logical thoughts. Because I don’t regret my children and I never will. I also don’t regret Peter. He was exactly what I needed at the time.
With a wicked grin, he slides down my body, his eyes never leaving mine. I watch as he pulls my shorts down, exposing my scar.
“Is this where they pulled my lovely girls from?” He asks, nuzzling it. I can barely feel the sensation, having had nerve endings cut and muscles sliced. It healed, but it was never quite the same.
Poetic as we draw a similar parallel here.
“Yes,” I utter, my voice thick with emotion and I shudder.
“How could I find this anything less than a display of utter devotion?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as he pulls my shorts the rest of the way down, helping me as I kick my legs to take them off. Warmth pools between my thighs as he settles back there, examining me.
“If I kiss your pussy, do you promise to be quiet?” He asks, but yanks me by my hips to latch his mouth onto me before I answer. With my back bowed, I relish his tongue lashing, the messy way he devours me as his fingers dig into my flesh.
He makes love to me with his mouth, showing me just how much he missed me. His tongue runs over my clit and my breath catches as I ride the euphoric wave as he sucks me into his mouth.
“I’m gonna come,” I grit out, grabbing a nearby pillow and covering my face to smother the sounds the intense orgasm is pulling from me.
I’ve barely caught my breath when I feel the nudge of his cock at my entrance. He yanks the pillow from my grasp and I tilt my hips to offer easier access.
