Trust in me in all you do

 

Have the faith I have in you

 

Love will see us through

 

If only you trust in me

 

Why don’t you, you trust me?

 

Come to me when things go wrong

 

Cling to me daddy, woah yeah and I’ll be strong

 

We can get along, we can get along

 

Oh, if only you trust in me

 

While there’s a moon, a moon up high

 

While there are birds, birds to fly

 

While there is you, a you and I

 

I can be sure that I love you, oh

 

Etta James – Trust In Me

 

---

 

Barcelona 2010

 

The cavernous ceilings of the basilica loom above them with the ornate columns forming a marble canopy. To the left of what is to be the main entrance when the renovations are finally complete, is a tall spiral staircase that represents the path of falling sycamore leaves. Every section of the cathedral, from its ornately carved external walls to the impressively beautiful internal structural columns to the multitude of stained glass windows bearing the names of countless artists are a testimony to the uniqueness of Sagrada Familia.

 

“Why are we here again?” Ethan is impressed at the building and grateful to be spending any time at all with her but her total preoccupation with Gaudi is not helping him to make any progress with her. For days, during their down time, they have toured apartments and parks looking at his legacy and at no point during that time has she allowed any personal conversation, instead living from behind the lens of her camera.

 

I am going to take that damn Nikon and toss it in the harbor.

 

Instead he grimaces as she ignores his question once more. Finally, ten or fifteen shots later she goes to change the lens.

 

“My brother loves Gaudi. He is building a house based on this design. He says the man was brilliant and before his time. I wanted to see for myself.” Lens changed she brings the camera up to her eye and begins snapping more photos.

 

He walks away from her and begins ascending one of the staircases, wondering if he should even be doing this. He doesn’t notice as she points the lens at him, capturing the wonder and curiosity in his expression. Talking to him is a physical strain. Her body seems to ache to be near him while her mind wants to kick his ass into the Mediterranean Sea. They wander around for a while longer barely speaking to each other before finally leaving the cathedral and locating a restaurant.

 

They order tapas and mineral water then settle back to soak up the sun.

 

“How are your family?” Not that he knew them. Everything about their relationship had been a carefully guarded secret, at first because she wasn’t old enough to be dating him and later because of the agency’s involvement in her life.

 

“They’re just peachy, thanks for asking. And yours?” Her hostility was pretty telling. He suspected not all of it was aimed at him but he would let it slide. If she wanted to fire off her inner bitch at will then he had long ago accepted that it should be aimed at him.

 

“They’re good. I heard Christian is doing really well for himself.”

 

“You read it in my file.” Her head tipped to one side as she smirked at him.

 

“Whatever. I have been home a couple of times in the last few years. And I do read the news. Your brothers get a fair bit of press.” Not always for the right reason.

 

“Well, they are doing fine. Just fine,” she mutters through gritted teeth.

 

“I am not your enemy, Mia.”

 

“Then what are you? Don’t say my friend because I have enough of those. I don’t need another one thanks.”

 

“I am your colleague and a person who knows and understands your history first hand and not out of some bullshit CIA file.”

 

“Well, that was a mistake on my part, wasn’t it? Unfortunately I can’t take any of that back. So tell me Ethan, apart from being thrown together for this mission, exactly what do you want from me.”

 

“How about a little civility? How about a little common decency?”

 

“Oh that is rich. How about we just agree that you and I don’t like each other. In fact, why don’t we simply go with barely contained loathing? That way we will both know where we stand. I’m here to do a job and nothing more.”

 

The ice in her voice cut him to the core. He thought nothing could hurt him as much as leaving her in the quad that day until he heard that she left for Europe. Now she was doing it again and he needed to get away from her before he either screamed out an apology in the street or slapped her for being so self-absorbed. He stood up and threw a note on the table before storming across the road and disappearing down to the metro station.

 

Bringing her camera up to her face she clicked the button repeatedly as she watched him dissolve into the crowd. A moment later the tapas arrived at the table and she looked morosely at the food she didn’t have the stomach to eat. It seemed like such a waste. Such an almighty waste. Instead of eating she scrolled through the photos she had taken today; Ethan in the church, Ethan on the train, Ethan on the street, Ethan crossing the street. In every shot he seemed to be walking away. That was how she would always think of him. Carefully, one by one she deleted each trace of him from her camera.

 

---

 

Seattle 2011

 

We are on our way to a late supper when the call comes through from my father. Now the family is gathered at Escala hoping for news that seems destined to never come. For the first time in years, when my father pulls me into an embrace I go willingly. This is no time to hold a grudge, however deep it may be. Luckily, my mother needs his arms more than I do and he releases me as a fresh wave of tears hits her.

 

For all of my doubts about my parents I can see that their love for us is genuine and heartfelt. I am not going to dwell on some of their shittier decisions but I wonder, if I went missing, would my father give a shit. After all, if I am not good enough to be claimed legitimately then the chances are I would be totally expendable to him if not for my mother.

 

Ethan sees me frowning and in a rare public display of affection he wraps me in his arms. This is where I belong and I feel so awful when I glance across at Ana who looks so lost and alone. It doesn’t seem fair that Christian finally finds someone who can bring him some peace only to be wrenched away by a twist of fate.

 

Jason Taylor is anxiously monitoring all the incoming information from his little spy room. It is impressive for a home run operation but nothing compared to the resources that are currently at work across town at the safe house. Since the call came in, Rory has had satellite streams trying to pinpoint the location but is getting as frustrated as the emergency services with the rugged terrain between Seattle and Portland. Constant volcanic activity in the area renders GPS navigation useless and until daylight there is not much more that can be done.

 

Funnily enough, although the agency felt that Christian Grey and GEH might be important enough that he was included in the year of planning for this mission. Now that he has gone missing they are ready to move on to a fresh target and the messages we are getting from Rory indicate that they want him to pull back. He says he won’t but I wonder how long he can fob them off.

 

“Baby, its okay to fall apart.” Ethan whispers in my ear. “Christian is your brother and this is your family. You don’t have to hold it together. I’ll catch you.”

 

Of course, he’s wrong. Falling apart is tantamount to giving up and I’m not ready to do that yet. But the Mia that they expect in this room would be far more emotional so I am torn physically by not wanting to let go and putting on a show for the people I love. This is crap and if I could take Ethan downstairs to the gym and kick the crap out of him, I would do it and he would let me. Such is his love.

 

His arms squeeze around me and I draw in breath taking in his scent. God, what would I do if I lost him. After all of these years of being apart could I take it if anything happened to him. This time the tears are real as I bury my head in his shoulder.

 

“It is a waste of time.”

 

“What? The search? No, it isn’t. We will keep searching until we find him one way or another.”

 

“No, I mean this thing with my Dad. All of this time I have spent hating him. It seems so pointless.” Ethan lets out a big sigh.

 

“You know I would never force you but ever since you told me about that fight I have thought you should talk to him. You should do it for you. So you can heal and move on.”

 

“I guess. I just could never come up with an answer that would be reasonable. I don’t get why anyone would do that to their own child.”

 

“Well, you won’t know until you ask him. And whatever he says you always have me, you always have us.”

 

“Always.”

 

“But you don’t have to do this tonight. You don’t have to rush into it.” He knows me so well. He knows how hard it is for me to forgive because it took so long to forgive him and I regret that now. We could have been together so much sooner but I kept blaming him for something he had no choice in. Am I doing that to my father too? Have I done that with Christian? And what if Christian is really gone? I won’t ever be able to mend the rift left from that day at Elena’s. My body aches with the futility of it all and is near collapse but as he promised, Ethan is here, holding me up, keeping me strong.

 

Kate walks past us and Ethan reaches out to squeeze her hand. She pauses for a moment and looks at us as if she is seeing us for the first time and I guess she is. I guess everyone is and we both have the same thought at the same time. Given that Ethan and I have only met officially this afternoon, it probably isn’t a good idea to look like my world begins and ends with him. Even if it does.

 

“This is all wrong, isn’t it?” His voice is barely a murmur.

 

“Yep. If I let go of you now I am going to completely lose it but I shouldn’t be in your arms like this. Everyone is staring.”

 

“No they’re not. They’re worried about Christian. No one thinks anything of it. I just have to remember not to kiss you. But I want to. You know that, right?”

 

“Life affirming sex?” For the first time this evening I smile into his chest so only he knows.

 

“Yep. You know if I could I would, baby.” I nod and step away from him for a moment to survey the room. Just as I do there is a shift near the door. Someone new has entered and it takes a moment for my head to register that it is Christian. “He’s here, baby. He’s here.”

 

Ethan lets me go and I am across the room with the rest of my family taking in the bizarre scene of my mother hugging my brother in a way that he has never permitted before. He hasn’t let anyone get that physically close, ever in his life. Very occasionally, I have been able to throw him off guard but not like this. For the first time he is hugging our mother like he means it and she, god love her, does not look like she wants to let go any time soon.

 

After a while, he steps toward Ana and the world tilts for me. The brother who I thought only ever has one kind of relationship, the brother who has never been physically loving with anyone, the brother who has never dated publicly, is in the arms of this diminutive sprite who seems to have captured him body and soul. I had assumed their connection was based on her being the perfect sub but there is so much more here. It is when I see her tears and the love and concern in his face as he consoles her that I finally lose it big time and Ethan is right there again, wrapping me up in his strong arms.

 

Everyone is so focused on Christian and Ana that they don’t notice our tender kiss or the way that my husband tucks his hand beneath my chin and whispers his love for me while looking into my eyes. No one sees me press my body hard against him and grasp his face in my hands as my tears fall. It only takes a moment and then we step apart again.

 

I watch my parents carefully as they untangle themselves from the proceedings. This distance between us seems like the worst possible waste of time. I don’t know if I will like what he has to say, I don’t know if there will ever be a reason he could give that I would forgive but I know that if I don’t start to reach out soon, the poison of hating him is going to eat into my relationship with Ethan and I couldn’t bear it. So as they say their goodbyes Ethan and I are in a heated discussion.

 

“Baby, please, not tonight. Go and see them tomorrow. Come home with me tonight. I want to look after you.”

 

“Ethan I have to go with them. I need to do this. I need to know. I’m not sure I will have the courage if I wait. I want to be with you so very much but I have to do this tonight. Please forgive me.”

 

“I’m going to the boat house then. I will be waiting for you. I’m not having you go through this alone. Please promise me that you will come to me.”

 

“Okay.” I want to tell him I love him but by now we have attracted some attention. Instead I pull away and mouth the word that means so much more to both of us. “Always.”

 

“Always.” I run to join my parents.

 

---

 

Not much is said on the way back to Bellevue and once she has a cup of tea in hand my mother goes up to bed. I change into T-shirt and jeans and make my way to my father’s study. The lamplight casts a shadow across the desk and I see he is hunched over gripping a glass of scotch in front of him. I pause for a moment wondering if he has nodded off and then see his shoulders begin to shake as he sobs. My heart clenches and I am torn between making my presence known and running back upstairs to my room. Taking a deep breath I push the door open further.

 

“Daddy?” At first I think he hasn’t heard me but his body has gone still. “Daddy?”

 

This time his head snaps up and he hastily wipes away the tears from his eyes before he speaks. “Hey princess, what can I do for you?”

 

“Can I come in?” I take a few tentative steps toward the desk feeling like I am 13 years old again.

 

“Of course, baby girl.” He looks so surprised. So unsure. And I feel like such a bitch. This poor flawed and broken man who very clearly loves his children is trying hard to pull the pieces of his heart together. I close my eyes and draw on the memories of my childhood when I still was his princess, his baby girl. He didn’t stop treating me that way. I stopped allowing him too.

 

Now doesn’t seem the right time to talk about me. I walk around the desk and stand at his side feeling a little unsure. Finally I step close and wrap my arms around his head and he starts to cry again.

 

“I thought we’d lost him, Mia. I thought we’d lost our little boy.” And in one of those rare moments of insight I see that the parent becomes the child and the child becomes the parent. “And when he hugged your mother, I just…I couldn’t…I love him so much Mia. He never lets us love him but we do. I do.” His tears freshen up into choking sobs and I clasp his head to my stomach and let my own tears fall.

 

Eventually he pulls himself together and I move a little away from him to perch on the edge of his desk. He leans back and looks up at me.

 

“You wanted to talk, baby girl?” Thinking about it right now I can see that Ethan was right. Now isn’t the time. That haunted helpless look dominates his features making him look so much older than his 59 years.

 

“I just wanted to check on you.” A look of disappointment washes over his face. “Daddy…I love you. I’m sorry.”

 

He reaches out a hand and pulls me on to his lap. It isn’t the same as when I was a little girl but it sure feels familiar. I snuggle in for a moment enjoying a scent that I haven’t smelled in five years. It smells like home.

 

After a few minutes I straighten up and move back to the edge of the desk. He looks bereft for a moment, as if he has lost something important.

 

“Daddy. We need to talk. I need to know. But not tonight. Tonight you need to go to Mom. I think that is really important. And just so you know. I’m going to sleep out in the boathouse.”

 

“But…” I place a hand on his and stop him from saying any more.

 

“Mom needs you. More than this desk does, or this whiskey. More than I do. I’ll be fine and we can talk tomorrow. I promise.”

 

He nods, finally getting what I am saying. I don’t want to think about my parents’ sex life but I am pretty sure that they won’t be the only ones who need life affirming sex tonight and they don’t need to hold back because their adult daughter is sleeping down the hall. With that thought I grab a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and head out to the boathouse.

 

---

 

Ethan is standing at the balcony looking out to the water with his hands in his pockets. His body is a still silhouette with the moon backlighting him but he is a sight to behold. Slowly he turns to face me as I walk up the final few stairs and place the wine on the table.

 

“That didn’t take long.”

 

“You were right. It wasn’t the time to talk. But I have promised him we will in the morning.”

 

“Come here.” I walk into his arms and soak up his warmth. His hands are in my hair as he yanks my head back and crashes his mouth into mine. God, I need this. I need to feel every ounce of his strength bring me back to life. I need his love to be rough and hard and fast. Instantly I jump and wrap my legs around his waist, his hands going to my ass to support me. Our tongues thrash together as he walks us back into the room and over to the bed.

 

Throwing me back onto the mattress his body follows quickly pressing down onto me. “I want to make you feel everything tonight. I want you to trust me. To trust that I know what you need. Can you do that Mia? Can you let yourself go for me completely? Will you let me give you what you need?”

 

His voice is a constant whisper between wet languid kisses, into my ear, on my forehead, my cheek, my jaw, my neck. All the while his hands are feathering traces of sensation down my face as if calming a small frisky puppy. His erection is pressing into my stomach and I wriggle to move so that it presses my core but he pulls me back.

 

“No, no, no. Don’t take control baby. Don’t make this harder on yourself. Let me love you. Let me hold you. Let me do this for you.”

 

His voice never goes above a whisper and I find myself mewling like a kitten. The intensity of his tone is so erotic, his breath on every inch of my skin, awakening sensations I have never felt before. His words switch between English, French, Spanish, Russian. I am translating and reacting and responding in a language that my body is inventing as we go. Any moment he is going to make me come just by talking to me.

 

“I’m going to lift this top now. I want to see your beautiful breasts. I want to suckle on your hard nipples. You want that don’t you?”

 

“Yes, yes. Please. Please.” His hands slide under the fabric and with a slow steady stroke he pushes up, his hands burning a path over my waist, my ribs and to just below my breasts before he stops. Then his mouth traces the same path stopping just below the aching mounds of flesh before he starts on the other side. “Please, suck them. Please my tits, please.”

 

“Ssshhhh. Don’t rush this. Don’t try to rush. I know what you need. Relax. Relax my angel. Breathe.”

 

Then his hand pushes up the flesh as his tongue licks towards my now aching nipple. I am sure that I am on some sort of sensory overload and I cry out when he gets to the firm flesh and sucks hard through his teeth. An electrical pulse shoots through my body and I soak my panties. He continues to massage my breasts with his hands but slides his head down my body, licking and kissing all the way to my waist. I thrust towards his face and he nips at my stomach.

 

“Be still. Still, baby. I can smell you. You smell so fucking amazing. You’re ready for me, aren’t you baby? You want me to lick you there. To suck your beautiful wet pussy. Only I don’t want to leave these lovely breasts. I shouldn’t leave them yet.”

 

I cry out with frustration as he slides back up the length of my body, again his mouth touching as much skin as he can, burning a trail back to my nipples. I strain against him once more wanting to feel his firm body pressed into mine. Wanting to feel his erection slide over my core.

 

His mouth is on mine again as he continues to massage my breasts and press his length against me. His leg slides between my thighs and he lifts his knee until he hits my vagina allowing me to writhe and hump his leg wantonly. Yes, he knows what I need. His mouth is back on my left breast while one hand massages the right and his other hand slides into my mouth. I suck on his fingers hard, swirling my tongue around his digits in a simulation of the blow job I would so willingly offer him now. He groans and I press my pelvis against his knee once more. With one almighty suck of my nipple that electric shock shoots to my center again and I come hard against his leg. I scream but his hand is across my mouth stifling my passion.

 

“Sshhh. Sshhh, sweetheart. Let it come. It won’t be the last time. Let it come. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

 

As my breathing gets back to normal he sits me up, wrenching my top over my head. Then laying me gently back down again. Next he undoes the button on my jeans and slides the zipper down but instead of removing my pants he reaches inside and slides a finger inside my wet, throbbing folds. My instant reaction is to squeeze around his fingers as I thrust upwards but he pushes my pelvis back down to still my body again.

 

“You’re fighting sweetheart. Don’t fight. Don’t move. Let me love you. Let me make it right for you. I want to worship you. I want to love you. Just let me.” Then he pulls my jeans down my legs and strips me of all my clothes. I feel each caress of his loving eyes as sweeps his gaze over my body. My torso undulates under his scrutiny and the whispers start again. Calling me, teasing me, guiding me.

 

“Open those pretty thighs for me sweetheart. Let me look. Let me see how wet you are.” My legs move of their own volition. He is a snake charmer, the pied piper and my body is completely at his mercy. Dancing to the tune he plays with his tongue, with his deep lilting voice, with his loving caress.

 

His mouth descends to my pussy licking and sucking the external moisture left from my last orgasm and calling forth more. Once more my body spasms with each thrust of his tongue and I find myself wanting to pull away, to give him room. Instead he pulls me down harder toward his face using his firm grip on my hips to thrust my pelvis down onto his tongue. The friction feels so amazing and I respond with more mewling cries unable to restrain my voice.

 

In an instant he is off me and I feel the chill of his absence. He quickly throws off his own clothes before descending over me again, his thigh between mine, his hands on my waist travelling slowly achingly upward. His mouth comes down on mine and I taste the tanginess of my own juices as he plunges his tongue into my mouth.

 

He murmurs through his thrusting kisses, “Can you taste that? Can taste how sweet you are? Do you know why I love the taste of you? You are so beautiful Mia. So perfect. So fuckable. So loveable.”

 

His fingers dive into my folds again and begin to pump with every thrust of his tongue. First one, then two then three fingers angled perfectly to hit the sweet spot inside me, massaging that sacred part that drives me into a wild frenzy of spasms. I start to come around his fingers but he doesn’t relent. There is no respite from the pumping, thrusting of his hand and I spasm again, my whole body folding in on itself. This is so different to the way I have come before. This is all consuming fire, a heat generated deep in my belly and flooding out to my toes. I cry with the intensity of it all and he swallows those cries with the continued thrusting of his tongue and pressure of his perfect lips on mine. Soon the orgasm takes on a life of its own, a pressure that needs room to release and he seems to know instinctively. He removes his fingers as my body spasms again and jets of warm liquid begin to fly from my pussy.

 

“Oh God, oh I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Oh I can’t stop, I’m sorry.” I cry not fully understanding what is happening but he is there reassuring me, alternately stroking my thighs as the flow continues then placing his palm firmly on the pressure point and letting my muscles spasm against it. I want to die.

 

“No, no, no. Sweet girl. Sweet baby, my angel. That was beautiful. You are beautiful. Look. It is come. It is all your beautiful orgasm. It is natural and beautiful and the most wonderful gift you’ve given me. Look taste it, taste it with me.” He brings his wet hand to my face and I am mesmerized as he licks the moisture off his hand. “It’s so sweet, it is all you. My perfect angel, all you.”

 

I taste and I cry and he holds me tight murmuring those words over and over. A few minutes is all that he allows me though before he hovers over me once more.

 

“I need to be inside you now angel. I need to fuck you and fuck you very, very hard. Will you trust me with this? Can I fuck you the way I need to? The way you need it?” I nod my head, unable to speak through the shimmering haze of my tears. I didn’t know. How could I know it could be like this. We have loved so often in these last few weeks but not like this, nothing like this.

 

With one quick thrust he is inside me and I gasp. I was worried that my muscles, so tender and tight after my orgasms would not welcome him but that rough thrust, that hard pressure is exactly what my body is screaming out for. He holds still a moment, looking into my eyes, holding my face.

 

“Stay with me angel. Stay with me. If you need me to stop I will but I don’t think you will. I am sure this is what you want, what you need. Try to stay with me as long as you can. Can you do that?” I have never known him to talk so much to me. Ever. During sex or not. This caring. This assurance is bringing me to my knees. I don’t know which language he is speaking to me. I hear them all. I feel them all. Every single word.

 

He thrusts hard then pulls back slowly. Then he repeats slamming into me with such force that my body shifts up the bed involuntarily. The withdrawal is a burning pain as my muscles reach out to grip him, willing him not to leave my body then he thrusts once more, once more slamming me up the bed. This time when he withdraws he pulls my waist, dragging me back away from the headboard. Then he moves my arms up until I can reach the rails.

 

“I need you to hold on tight baby. You are going to need to brace yourself, okay. You’re so beautiful, Mia.” He starts to thrust again this time building up a rhythm that starts slow then rapidly increases.

 

“I love you, Mia. I love your body… your soul… your spirit. You amaze me. You excite me beyond belief. I miss you … every… second… that you’re… not with me. I dreamed you… every… single… night… for six…long…lonely…fucking…years. I ached for you.”

 

Every thrust brings more confessions, of the love, the loneliness, the pain. I can’t bear it. The tears flow down my cheeks as my body twists and turns in the onslaught of his passion trying desperately to show how much I missed him too. I cry out and his hand is on my mouth again, holding a safe space for me to scream as he pounds into me. Then he slaps me across the face and I whimper but I welcome it.

 

“More.”

 

He slaps again and I gasp. He is gentle, too gentle. I need more, I want more. Abruptly he pulls out of me.

 

“Turn over baby. Up on your knees and hold onto that railing. Hold on tight baby. You need to tell me to stop when it gets too much. I want you to say ‘Sagrada’ when you need me to stop baby. Can you do that?” I nod.

 

“Say it.” His voice is a growl as he pulls my head back to look at him.

 

“Sagrada,” I whisper. “Sagrada.” As he looks into my eyes I hope that he sees the longing. The need. My eyes plead with him to…what? The memory of the girl in the window all those years ago comes back to me in a rush. Her submission, her humiliation. The tenderness, the violence. I want that. I want it so bad but I can’t ask. I won’t ask. Ethan looks at me carefully before pulling my hair again and lowering his mouth to bite my lip. I cry out, my eyes fluttering and body writhing with the exquisiteness of the pain before I refocus on him again. His face is impassive but his eyes spark.

 

“Good girl. Good girl.” His hand begins to rub in languid circles around my ass. I am frightened of the unknown of his movements and exhilarated to present myself for him. “Part your legs for me baby. I need to see that sweet slit. Oh, sweetheart you are glistening, so beautiful, so sexy.”

 

His hand pulls away and then smacks down on my right cheek hard. I cry out, arching my back and he instantly has his hand over my mouth.

 

“Ssh. Ssh angel. It’s going to be okay. Did that feel good?” I nod instinctively, as he coaxes me into submission. His hand is rubbing the tender skin and I yearn for him to hit me again. Quickly, he pulls back and smacks the other cheek. My body arches again but this time he is prepared, his hand already over my mouth so I release a biting scream into his palm. His other hand reaches into the cleft and strokes down to my wetness before he pulls back and smacks me firmly on the pussy. It stings but it feels so good. Once more my body moves and my whimpers come unbidden as he whispers soothingly into my ear.

 

The spanking goes on for another fifteen minutes. He alternates the spot each time, and every time I feel the sharp sting and the gentle afterburn. My body wants so badly to come and come hard. My nipples are aching and sore and he knows because he reaches around to rub them and tweak them giving me some relief. And the whispering, the talking continues, talking me down off the ledge of my orgasmic precipice each time.

 

“You’ve been so good angel. You’ve taken it all and now I am going to fuck you again and this time we are both going to finish it. Together, okay?” I nod and very quickly he enters me from behind. I grip the bed knowing this is going to be intense. Gone is the Ethan who so easily loses control. This is a dominant powerful loving Ethan who has completely taken over my body. He is feeling each and every pulse of my muscles, the flow of my blood. I am his unreservedly.

 

Once inside me he begins thrusting hard and fast. His breathing is ragged and loud in my ear. There is no more talking, no more gentle whispering. The repeated slamming of his body pounding hard against my ass has me struggling for traction and breath. It is beautiful and powerful and makes me sob. I feel my body building toward a release and his own cries are catching in his throat. The slap of his balls against my labia is intensifying everything.

 

“Now baby. Come for me now.” I let go and he holds me tight as we both fall over the edge, our orgasms rocking us to our core. “Fuck baby. Fuck.”

 

We collapse on our sides, his erection still firmly inside me, his arms around my waist, my hands gripped over his hands, my legs pushed back through his legs. There is no knowing where his body ends and mine begins. An hour or so later I wake from sleep his body still locked firmly around mine with the delicious ache of having been totally dominated and knowing I would do it again in a heartbeat. I stir, trying to tempt him to wake and take me again. Instead he pulls out of me, goes to the bathroom and grabs a wet cloth.

 

When he emerges his focus is on cleaning me and even though I am trying to look into his eyes he keeps them averted. The sheets are soaked through from us both coming so he pulls me up and strips the bed, laying a blanket down before putting me back to bed. I hold my arms out to welcome him back to my body but he rolls me over and spoons me.

 

“Go to sleep, angel.” It is a command, not a request so I snuggle in with a smile. Round two can wait until morning.