ardor

He could feel the soft press of skin against his, whispered breaths warming his chilled neck, feathered kisses healing the dull aches of his battered body. Her small hands massaged his chest, then shoulders, to his back—god—and then his bum.

"Isn't it a bit early—ahh—for this?" he chokes out quietly, trying to calm his laboured breathing as she adds pressure to her ministrations on his sore muscles, pushing her hips harder against his. The velvety sound of her laugh drives him insane, "this is your doing, remember?"

No, he doesn't, but he isn't going to argue with the brunette. He guides his hands, which were laying limp at his side, to the small of her back, playing with the edges of her waterfall length hair. When did she let it get so long?

She removes her mouth from his collar-bone before crashing it down on to his slightly trembling lips and nips at them, smiling when he opens his mouth in an instant. "I missed you—" he mumbles between pecks, attaching his teeth to her bottom lip, desperate. "—so much."

He grinds his pelvis against hers and flips them over so he's straddling her. His fingers ghost up her beige shirt and he growls in annoyance when he reaches the cotton material of her sports bra. Before he can slip his fingers underneath it, she pulls away, palm holding him back from advancing once more.

The lust in her eyes vanish when she spots the large gash on the side of his left tricep. She mutters to herself, 'how did I not see this?' and frowns, running her fingers over the fading red scar.

"It's old, you don't have to worry," he reassures her, gripping her wrist and lowering it to his waist.

"It wasn't there before—"

"—but it's here now, and it won't do me any harm—"

"—how..?"

He sighs, touching his forehead to hers, "doesn't matter," he whispers before recapturing her lips. For now, just this once, she'll let the unwanted question go.

fin.

reviews are lovely and much appreciated.