“Wow,” she whispered, moving, the leather squeaking beneath her so she laughed softly.
He moved then too, pulling out of her so she groaned and shut her eyes, such an intense feeling of emptiness overtaking her that it was impossible to remember she’d existed without him being inside of her for twenty four years and could cope with the deprivation now, just fine, thank you very much.
Easy to say, and think, but far less easy to do.
“I didn’t intend for that to happen.”
He was regretting it. Her eyes sought his, her heart hurting a little, to think that perhaps it hadn’t been as mind blowing for him as it had her. But then, she remembered his guttural cry, she recalled the way his voice had torn through the air, and she knew that wasn’t the case. He’d been right there with her, feeling every powerful explosion just as she did.
“Nor did I,” she said simply, honestly. “But it was inevitable, wasn’t it?”
He looked at her long and hard and she stayed perfectly still, beneath his inspection, comfortable in her skin, beneath him, close to him, naked with him.
“Yes,” he agreed eventually, the word almost torn from him. “I believe that it was.”
And while it was nothing but an admission of the facts, an honest acceptance of the need that had been burning between them from the first moment they met, it felt like so much more. It felt like an agreement, a pact, a promise, and though she couldn’t say why it mattered so much, she knew, somehow, that it did.