“Will you come in with me?” I ask as he slides my blouse off my arms.
Some emotion washes over his face. I can’t quite identify it. Gratitude? Grief? Maybe a mixture of both. “You want me to?”
“Yes.”
He unhooks my bra in the back, and I shake it off onto the floor beside my blouse.
“Whatever you need Kit-Kat,” he murmurs, his warm palms sliding down my bare arms. “Whatever you want.”
“It looks big enough for two.” The bubbles are starting to form, piling higher and higher in the black marble tub.
I scoop a handful and bring them to my nose to breathe in the orange coriander scent.
Adrian unzips my skirt in the back and tugs it off along with my panties.
I rotate to face him and lift the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his chiseled abs, up the broad planes of his beautiful hairy chest, and over the top of his head.
He starts to unbutton his pants, but I take over, wanting to undress him as he undressed me. Wanting to take a more active role this time. My fantasies are fun, but this time, it feels real. It feels like the first time Adrian and I have been intimate with each other. The real Adrian and the real me. Not some kinky sexual fantasy. We’re not captor and prisoner. Not schoolgirl and teacher. Not master and slave.
“You are sexy with a gun,” I tell him.
He lets out a puff of shocked laughter. “You’re warped,” he says.
It wounds me, and he sees it immediately, cupping my face. “I didn’t mean that,” he says. “I mean, I meant it in the most admiring way possible. I love your kink. I love that you’re you. Wild and funny and free.” He pulls the elastic off one of my braids and starts to unwind it. “You’re beautiful– heartbreakingly beautiful. You’re the most lovely girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I suck in my breath, trembling. Not wanting to speak in case there’s more.
“I wish–I wish things had been different. I wish I hadn’t fucked this up.” He unwinds the other braid.
I stroke his face now, wanting to comfort him. “Kiss me,” I say.
He lowers his head infinitely slowly, his lips hovering just above mine, suspended in time. It’s this captured moment–the space between our two bodies, both the magnetic pull and the resistance there at the same time.
And because I’m not the passive recipient this time, not the girl waiting to be acted upon, but the girl who makes her own choices and takes what she wants, I close the distance. I grip his face, pull it to mine and devour his lips. I slant my lips one way then the other, pulling his lower lip into my mouth. I sweep my tongue into his mouth and tangle and twine it with his.
He listens at first then responds with a fervor, snagging the back of my waist with his forearm and yanking me against his hard body. His other hand cups the side of my neck. My nipples tighten where they brush against his ribs. His cock thickens against my belly.
For once, I don’t want the sex to be anonymous and hard from behind. The kind where I can stay in my head with the fantasy.
No, this time, I want it slow and gentle or maybe not gentle–scratch gentle. But I want it intimate. Looking into each other’s eyes. Opening our hearts, minds, bodies, beings to each other.
This is love. This is what sex is for–this communion of two bodies. Two people. Two beings who are matched in a way no two other beings can be.
Adrian seems to want to take his time, too, because he doesn’t spin me around and fold me over the side of the tub. Instead he gently pushes me away from him and breaks the kiss. “Let’s get in.” He tips his head in the direction of the water and holds my hand like a gentleman, helping me to step into the tub.
I stand in the center of it until he comes in too, then I sit and nest in the cradle of his legs, leaning back against his chest. His soapy hands slide all over my skin not really washing me, just touching.
He rubs circles around my nipples with his middle fingers. He cups my breasts and kneads them, then slides one hand up to wrap around my throat in the way that I love. I lean my head back on his shoulder trying to block out the events of the night. Trying not to ask what’s going to happen tomorrow. Or later today, I guess, since it’s already dawn.
His fingers slide down to circle my belly button then cup between my legs where my muscles catch and release.
I close my eyes and surrender to the sensations, let Adrian give me pleasure without desperately seeking a finish. He parts my folds and finds my clit, which he gently circles. Time stands still. With this touch–this undemanding, light touch, I am reborn. My body vibrates and hums with pleasure, releasing the ugliness of the night, coming firmly into the present.
Eventually the water cools, so Adrian lifts me to stand and follows me out of the tub. I hold a towel open for him, and he flashes me that rare, boyish grin before snatching it from me and wrapping me up in it. He captures me and pulls me back against his body. “Do you think I need to be taken care of, little one?”
“You had a rough night, too,” I offer.
He rocks me back and forth in his arms, swaying like it’s a slow dance. I don’t want it to end even though I sense the ending is near.
Very, very near.
Adrian towels me off and leads me to the bed where he pulls the covers back for me.
“You’re coming in, too, right?” I ask as I crawl onto the bed.