Let Love Heal

extending a challenge.

And oh what a delicious challenge it is. While he nips and kisses my neck, I fumble with the key and actually drop it to the ground. When I move to pick it up, he wraps his arm in a steel band around my waist once again, essentially telling me to stay in place.

When he moves from behind me, my body feels cold – bereft in the absence of his heat. It’s not cold for long though. After snatching the key up from the ground, he grazes the length of my legs with his long fingers. When he arrives at the curve of my ass, he squeezes my flesh and I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I hate my ass. He apparently doesn’t, though.

He slides one hand into a back pocket of my jeans and reaches in front of me with the other. Key in hand, he unlocks the door. The anxiety that I thought I would feel, evaporates when I turn around into the warm circle of his arms.

Squeezing him tightly, I rest my cheek against his solid chest and inhale the spicy scent of his cologne. His hand moves into my hair and he pulls gently, forcing my head up and our eyes to meet.

“You know we don’t have to do anything. We’ve talked about this. When you’re ready …” My lips get in the way of his words. Slowly, seductively, passionately, I let my tongue dance in his mouth. When I pull back from the kiss, I meet his eyes, which are now hooded and lust-filled.

“I know you said you would wait. And you have. I’m ready … unless you don’t …” I don’t want to say it, but that shy, self-hating version of myself is screaming, He doesn’t want you.

That voice is put out of her misery when Bryan’s lips press oh-so-gently up against mine. Speaking against my lips, he says, “No. I want you.” His hand cups my ass again and he pulls my hips up to meet his. His desire is clearly evident once again and I decide to just let this happen.

Gone is shy and insecure Melanie – at least for now. Here, with Bryan, I want to be worthy of his desire. I want to be everything that he deserves – sweet, hot, passionate … loving.

Not wanting to break the physical contact of our interlaced fingers or the searing stare of our glued- together eyes, I pull him down the short hallway to my room, walking backwards.

I reach behind me for the knob and twist. Stepping over the threshold makes my heart crash into the wall of my chest. My pulse accelerates and my breath hitches in my throat. Anxiety and nervousness morph into desire. And despite my deep-seeded insecurities, I know that I see that same desire etched into Bryan’s face.

He leans his face into the crook of my neck and kisses the part of my collarbone that’s exposed from behind the neckline of my shirt. Hot, wet lips trace the path of exposed flesh until he arrives at my shoulder. Gently nipping at my skin, and then kissing his little bite, Bryan says, “You have the most beautiful skin. I want to taste all of it.”

Emboldened by his seductive words, I step back from him and reach for the hem of my shirt. I pull it up over my head and toss is to the floor. Even though I’m standing before him in my jeans and black lace bra, I feel naked and exposed. Crazy thoughts fly through my head, but I try my best to silence them. Bryan’s widened eyes fix on my breasts and suddenly I don’t feel so shy.

I feel beautiful.

Wanted.

Desired.

Sexy.

I reach for the hem of his shirt and he pulls it up over his head. His abs ripple under the movement. I have to touch him. When my fingers trace tentatively across his muscled stomach, I feel him shudder and hear a breath hiss from between his lips. With steadier fingers than those that tugged at his shirt, I pull on the button of his jeans and pop it open. He repays the favor and takes it a step further by pushing my jeans down over my hips.

Standing before him in nothing but my bra and panties is exhilarating. The look in his eyes tells me that I have nothing to worry about. The bulge in his unbuttoned jeans tells me that he wants me. The pulse beating visibly in his neck tells me that he’s about to lose control.

He steps closer to me, but doesn’t stop when his chest presses up against mine. Instead, he keeps walking and pushes me with him until my butt collides with my bed. I stare up into his eyes and get lost there for a minute. Usually, they’re the color of liquid chocolate – dark and molten. But right now, I’m seeing amber flecks and golden shimmers.

Bryan effortlessly lifts me up onto the bed, and for the first time in my life, I feel dainty and feminine. Wrapped up in his muscled body, I feel tiny and pretty. He slides my body against his and lowers me onto my back.

With one hand supporting his weight, he unhooks the front clasp of my bra and pulls the straps down my shoulders. Dropping the bra rather unceremoniously to the floor, he stares at my breasts with hunger in his eyes.

Licking his lips, he says, “My God, Melanie. Do you realize how perfect you are? You are so damned beautiful.” I shake my head, to both deny his statement and to avoid having to look into his eyes. He cups my cheek softly, and turns my head back to him. He doesn’t use words to convince me of his recent declaration. His lips do all of the work.

They move from my lips to my neck to my shoulder to the soft curve of the tops of my breasts. He rolls to my side and supports his weight on his bent arm. Using his other hand, he cups my breast and kneads it tenderly. When his thumb strums across my hardened nipple, a groan eases out of my mouth. He does it again, but this time, instead of just passing over it, he squeezes the pink tip gently and pulls slightly. My hips roll seeking some kind of release. “Ahhh, Bryan.”

His lips are buried into my neck. “More?” he asks and I just nod in return. I don’t want to think about what I should say. I just want to feel.

Traveling the same path they did earlier, his lips descend past the top of my breast. When he softly kisses one nipple while rolling the other between his fingers, my hips gyrate wildly and my insides pulse with desire for more.

Bryan senses that more is exactly what I want, so he licks and sucks at my breast like his life depends on it. Ravenously, he moves over to the neglected breast and pays it the same attention. I’m not sure who is more satisfied by the action.

My fingers tangle into his brown hair as it tickles my chest. My flesh prickles and my nipples pucker even more. His kisses follow a path down my body and his tongue dips into my belly button. In the month or so that we’ve been together, we haven’t done much more than making out and groping at each other above our clothes. This is the farthest we’ve gone and he must sense that we’re on some kind of precipice - some kind of point of no return.

His lips stop at the top of my panties and he looks up at me through his dark lashes. I nod, giving him the answer to his unasked question, and he hooks his thumbs into the sides of my panties. My legs shake and my insides quiver as he pulls the black lace over my hips and down my legs.

I’m naked. Fully bared to him as he kneels in between my spread legs, forces a heated blush to race across my body. Bryan is staring down at me like he doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know what to do. I would give anything to know what’s going on in his head, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead of talking, he runs his fingers up from my toes, to my calves, across my thighs and stops just inches from my sex. He’s unsure so I arch my back and force my hips up into his touch.

“Please, Bryan. I’m ready. I want you. I want this. Please,” I’m begging, but feeling his hands roam all over my body reduces me to a needy, wanton creature.

He wastes no time with words or explanations. When his fingers trace delicately over my folds, I feel the pressure begin to build inside of me. It’s delicious and unfamiliar. I want relief from it, but I never want it to end.

With my eyes shut and my head rolling from side-to-side, I’m lost to the pleasure of his touch. When he gently slides a finger inside of me, my back arches and my nipples pebble. “You’re so wet, Melanie. But I want to take this slow, so relax.” On his last word, he reaches up to tweak my nipple with his other hand, causing another hot gush of wetness to coat his finger.

When he slides another finger deep inside of me, my insides burn at the stretching feeling. The burn quickly vanishes though as he works his fingers from side-to-side, massaging me, preparing me. That last thought causes