by Sara Reinke
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She fell asleep with him spooned against her, his body marvelously warm and contoured against her own, his breath soft against her shoulder. He kept his arm about her waist, his fingers drawn through hers, holding her gently as her exhausted mind faded. She had never known anything that felt more natural and right to her than this: to lie in his arms and share in his warmth, feeling safe, sheltered, and beloved to him. She could not stay the night through; she knew this, and yet she could not bear to leave him. Her mind drifted, but after a time, she felt his lips light against her shoulder; he had been lying awake all the while, listening to her breathing, watching her sleep, and he had kissed her.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered, and she felt him squeeze her hand gently to realize she has roused. She was to marry James on Sunday and they both knew it. This brutal truth invaded their quiet, tender moment, and they were both silent with the realization.
“Run away with me,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder again.
“We cannot,” she said as his lips traveled along the slope of her shoulder for her throat. She smiled as he kissed the delta of her jaw, as the tip of his tongue brushed lightly against the outer curve of her ear. “We cannot leave Reilly and Lewis. I do not know what James will do.”
His mouth drew away from her ear, his playful passion immediately subdued. She turned toward him, rolling onto her back and against the shelter of his shoulder and chest. He placed his hand against her bosom, letting his fingers drape gently about her breast.
“It is not hopeless,” he told her, although his eyes were filled with sorrow. She brushed her fingertips against his lips to draw a reluctant smile from him.
“No,” she agreed. “It is not. We still have a day. We will find something, some way.”
His hand moved slowly against her breast, a light but welcome pressure, and she felt fresh heat stir within her belly. She murmured softly, a quiet sound of pleasure, and his smile widened as the movement of his hand grew more insistent. She felt him stiffening against her thigh; like hers, his interest had been rekindled after their rest.
“We will find a way,” she whispered as he leaned over, kissing her. He shifted his weight, rolling atop her, and she spread her thighs to enfold his hips. He had already hardened in full, and slid easily into her, filling her suddenly, unexpectedly. She gasped against his mouth, and he moved again, slowly at first, a teasing, deliberate pace that in short measure left her breathless with urgent desire. I will find a way, she thought, as his motions, the friction of him clouded her mind, making her think of nothing else but this, but him.