Let me take care of you.
He said it when he was eating me out like a starved animal, but the way he’s actually doing it breaks something in me. Emotion swells inside. All the searching and settling over the years feel like a distant memory under his attention. All the times I wanted to feel special and got a dick pic instead, or got called a bitch by a strange man because I didn’t respond to his vulgar DM—those times fade because this was what I wanted all along.
To feel this special. This considered. This wanted and respected.
“Will you stay?” I ask, my voice low and a little shaky. The oral was fantastic, but this…this is something else.
“Do you want me to?”
Not trusting my voice with more words, I simply nod and watch as he removes his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them in a chair in the corner. His body is like a machine, but warm and gleaming and taut, his muscles seemingly rippling in places other men never even had muscles. He crawls in behind me, pulling me close. My back is pressed into his wide, smooth chest. And though I feel him semi-erect against my backside through his briefs, he makes no move. When he tucks his head into the crook of my neck and lays a kiss there, I reach behind me and cup the back of his head. There’s no way two weeks will be enough. Not with this man. So many thoughts swirl in my head, and despite the jet lag and exhaustion, I’m staring into the dark unblinkingly, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
“Kira,” he says after a few minutes of easy silence, splaying his hand possessively over my belly. “Baby, go to sleep.”
And as if my body knows something I don’t, it obeys.