His big, warm hand spans out over my lower belly, his fingers pressing in as he encourages me to find my own rhythm and just go with it. Feeling shy at first, I move back and forth on his cock, and once the pleasure builds up I forget all of my self-consciousness. He laces his fingers through mine now, holding both of my hands and murmuring soft, sexy things to me, about how perfect my breasts are, how he’s obsessed with my mouth. The one that really gets me, though, is when he tells me I’m his, that I belong to him and him to me.
My heart swells at the possessive, adoring, worshipping look on his face, like I’m the most amazing thing he’s ever set eyes on. That’s when I can’t hold back any longer. I have to get the words out, or it feels like they’ll obliterate me whole. His thumb is circling my clit, bringing me to orgasm, and when I come with him still inside me, the declaration, “I love you,” spills from my lips.
Robert’s mouth hangs open as he absorbs what I’ve just whispered to him. “I love you, too,” he says back, almost growling, and then I feel him filling me, coming long and hard. I flop down onto his chest and close my eyes, moments later drifting into sleep.
I wake up later for just a second, because Robert’s pulling out of me. He goes inside the en-suite to wash up and then he’s back, his warm body curling around mine. The next time I wake up, it’s early morning, and Robert’s leaving me again to head for work. As usual, I wish he didn’t have to go. I’m so in love that I just want to spend a whole month alone with him, doing nothing but having sex and eating and laughing with one another. Perhaps even talking about our past and what we’d really been feeling when we’d been putting up a false wall of hate.
He stands by the bed, staring down at me, the morning sun shining through the sheer curtains.
“Was I dreaming?” he asks, a small smile lifting his jaw. “Or did you tell me you loved me last night?”
Despite his smile, he looks vulnerable, a rare thing to see in Robert. It feels like I’m holding his happiness in the palm of my hand and whatever way I respond is monumental to his fate.
Smiling into the pillow and pulling the sheet up to cover my breasts, I reply, “Yeah, I did. And I do.”
The grin that splits his lips is beautiful to see. Suddenly, it seems like there’s a light in him that wasn’t there before, like a fracture in his soul is now sealed back together.
He kneels down by the bed and pets my hair. “You love me, baby?”
“I love you, Robert,” I hum, enjoying the feel of his touch.
“I love you back,” he replies, smiling widely and bending down to pull the sheet away again and nuzzle each of my breasts. After picking up his discarded clothes from last night, he walks out of my room, blowing me a kiss and closing the door softly behind him.
Seventeen
The next couple of weeks are a happy, sex-filled blur. Robert and I find ways to spend as much time together as possible. On my days off I have lunch with him at his office, where he orders in delicious gourmet food, some of which is a tad rich and I shouldn’t be eating, but I’m too blissed out to care. I never feel that sick, just a little tired sometimes, so it must not be causing too much damage to my health. Or perhaps my happiness is overriding it somehow?
At night Robert slips inside my room, strips me naked, and makes crazy, intense, passionate love to me for hours. I’m reminded of that lyric from “I Dreamed a Dream,” about tigers coming at night with their voices soft as thunder. Robert’s soft voice shatters through me like thunder; his lips and his body mark me, possess me.
Let’s just say I don’t get as much sleep as I used to.
When Robert’s inside me, he has this habit of whispering naughty things in my ear like your tight little pussy was made for me or my cock fits in you so perfect. I’m getting used to the dirty talk (and finding that I actually like it a good deal).
His breath whispers across my skin like smoke, mysterious and hazy. It feels like he never gets his fill, and, to be perfectly honest, I’m the exact same. I’m becoming more confident with sex, sometimes even taking the lead and initiating it. Whenever I do, Robert gets this look on his face, like he couldn’t be more turned on if he tried.
A couple of mornings ago I woke to find his head between my legs, his tongue lapping at me. All I could do was stretch out like a cat and moan at how wonderful it felt. Our bodies constantly orbit each other, in sync to what we both want and need.
It’s been four weeks since Robert went for an STD test to make sure it’s safe for us to have unprotected sex. The results haven’t come back yet, but it’s obvious we’re both waiting eagerly for the day when they do, so that we can be together without any barriers.
When I go for a checkup at the local GP, I also ask the doctor to put me on the contraceptive pill. He seems hesitant, since it can mess with my diabetes somewhat, but I’m insistent, and in the end he provides a prescription, telling me that I will have to adjust my insulin intake accordingly. Next, he performs a check on my blood sugars. He frowns when he consults the temporary file my doctor from back home sent over, noting that my levels aren’t as good as they had been.
I’ve suspected this to be the case, but I don’t fret on it. Instead, I agree to be more careful from now on. Life’s been hectic recently, and I haven’t had as much time to plan healthy, timely meals and exercise like I used to. I’ve also forgotten my insulin injections once or twice, which is entirely out of character for me. It’s not good for it to keep happening, and this checkup is the little shock I needed to get my act together.