I take a last olive stone from my mouth, placing it carefully on the plate before I put that to one side. A final swig of the wine to freshen my mouth, then I take Charlotte’s plate from her. She doesn’t resist but sits staring at me with that rabbit-in-the-headlights, jade-eyed gaze that drew me to her from the first.
I hold out my hand, and as she accepts it, I stand, she rising with me. Michael follows, taking his place to stand behind her as I steer her by the shoulders to face me.
She knows he’s there, her eyes keep flicking sidelong, as though to turn, but not quite doing so.
I slide a hand from her shoulder, my palm pressing the back of her head as I stoop to kiss her. Her mouth opens under mine as I tease her lips apart with my tongue, and I feel rather than hear the moan that runs through her body.
Standing back, I take the hem of her top between thumb and forefinger, lifting it up and over her head. The rise and fall of her chest is more visible now. Not touching her, I say, “Face Michael. Finish undressing.”
She swallows but turns. She’s trying to look him in the eye, but her eyes fall before he lifts her face to his. But not as I did, holding her by the chin, forcing her to look at me. Instead, with the gentlest of pressure and a single finger, he guides her to meet him. And for the first time in too many days, I see him smile; that soft-eyed ‘I’m here for you’ smile that is his gift to her.
She’s trembling a little, but he bends to kiss her, very softly, very gently. And as he reaches around her, his movements are hesitant, giving her the opportunity to back away if she wants to.
She doesn’t, and from behind, I watch as he unclips her bra, then glides back around her to palm her breasts.
And….
Hallelujah….
…. I scent her arousal…
Leave them to it for a minute….
…. better that way….
…. let them remake old ground….
…. and I’ll enjoy watching….
I stand back, positioning myself to see them, feeling better as I see the warmth between them growing, that connection they have reasserting….
They’ve been to hell and back together….
They both want this
It only needed something to take them over that edge….
…. Away from the pain….
One hand cupping a breast, almost weighing it as it sits in his palm, he scrapes at the tip with a thumb. The nipple and its partner tighten, rose-pink buds nubbing out as they crinkle.
There’s heat in his eyes, growing joy in hers. Both are smiling and they’re moving to meet. Their lips brush, curving as they do so. With a hand on her shoulder, another at her waist he pulls her close and her body curves, contouring to his, flesh against flesh.
Strange how we can hurt the ones we love the most….
…. This is how it’s supposed to be….
Their movements are soft and sensual, both smiling as their lips brush. The sight is beautiful and beguiling….
Empathic….
He turns her again, to face me once more. There’s a light in her eyes that’s been missing for too long….
Joy….
…. Arousal….
…. Love….
He sits by her, stroking her, open-palmed over thigh and stomach, shoulder and breast, as she mewls and quivers. His voice is a murmur, but still, I catch the words. “What would you like?”
She reaches up, snagging a stray lock from his face….
How does he always seem to be overdue for a cut?
“You,” she says. “I’ve missed you.”
He sighs, softly, quietly. “I never went away. I’m sorry if it seemed otherwise” He caresses her with a single finger, tracing the contours of her lips and cheekbones, then stoops to kiss her again before sliding down to a breast.
And this is so much what I have wanted to see. The two of them, together, Making Love.
His mouth on her nipple, his palm slides down the sleek curve of her belly, weaving into curls, easing further and down. He murmurs something, I can’t make out what, but she eases her thighs apart, angling her hips for him as he seeks her clit.
I’m warming too, the blood beginning to pound in my ears, to pool in my groin. I move a little to see what he’s doing, watching as, thumbing back the sheath, he plays her bud. She’s whimpering under his touch, her fingers gripping his head where he still suckles at a breast. And as he splays her folds, opens her then penetrates, her whimpering grows to moans.
She arches, straining her knees wide, head pressing back against the pillow. His fingers are slick, gleaming now with her thighs, wet and glistening.
Watching her as he sits upright, Michael gently finger-fucks her. His movements are slow, barely a thrust, but I think he’s stretching his fingers wide inside her. His own colour is rising now, his face flushing as he watches her mounting heat. Flashing me a look, he stands to one side, undressing.
Lips parted, a slight gleam of teeth showing, she pants as she looks up at me. Her gaze travels my body; hovering over my erection before returning to my face. Standing at the end of the bed, I look down at the long, lovely curved length of her. Her breasts rise and fall with her now heavy breathing. The soft curve of her belly vibrates with her pulse-beat and her pussy, red and swollen as ripe fruit, glistens.
I seize her ankles, her breath hitching as I tug her down the bed towards me. Pulling her until her hips edge the mattress, her legs over-hanging, I find my teeth gritting. Both she and I know my intentions and she arches back, inviting me as I kneel between her thighs.
Kneeling upright so I can watch her, palms pressed hard against sleek muscle, I press her thighs apart, hard, straining her wide.…
Mine….
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