Holy Shit #4
I slid two fingers inside her and she cried out, her head falling back, her hips immediately starting to move. She rode my hand with desperate purpose, her inner walls already fluttering around my fingers, her clit grinding against the heel of my palm with each roll of her hips.
"That's it, baby," I encouraged, my free hand gripping her hip, guiding her movements. “Ride me. Take what you need."
She was beautiful like this, chasing her pleasure with abandon, her dress hiked up around her waist, her lips parted on breathless moans. I curled my fingers, finding that spot that made her gasp, and her movements became more frantic.
"Petra, I'm—oh god, I'm—"
"Come for me," I commanded, and she obeyed, her whole body going taut before shattering with a cry that echoed through our apartment. I felt her clench around my fingers, felt her arousal coat my hand, watched pleasure chase across her face in waves.
But I wasn't done. The moment she started to come down, I shifted us, laying her back on the couch and settling between her spread thighs. Her eyes went wide, glazed with satisfaction but already darkening with renewed need.
"Petra, what—"
"One more," I said, just like I always did, and before she could protest, I replaced my fingers with my mouth.
She cried out in desperate need, her hands flying to my hair, her thighs trembling on either side of my head.
She was oversensitive, every touch magnified, and I used that to my advantage.
I licked and sucked and fucked her with my tongue until she was writhing beneath me, incoherent sounds spilling from her lips.
"Can't—too much—Petra, please—"
I didn't relent. I sealed my lips around her clit and sucked hard while sliding two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she came apart with a sound half-sob, half-scream. Her whole body convulsed, her back arching off the couch, her hands fisting in my hair so hard it almost hurt.
I worked her through it, gentling my touch as the waves subsided, until she finally went limp beneath me, satisfied and spent.
When I lifted my head, she was staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes, her chest heaving, her lips parted. "Holy... I can't... feel my..."
I crawled up her body, settling beside her on the couch and pulling her into my arms. She immediately curled into me, her head finding that perfect spot on my chest, her breathing still uneven.
"Love you s'much," she slurred, already half-asleep. "'M so... tired..."
"I know, baby. I've got you."
Her eyes drifted closed, and within seconds, her breathing evened out into sleep. She'd passed out completely, exhausted from emotion and two blinding orgasms, her body going slack and trusting in my arms.
I adjusted my clothes carefully, then gathered her against my chest and stood. She made a little sound but didn't wake, just nuzzled closer. I carried her to our bedroom, her dress still bunched around her waist, her hair a beautiful mess, completely unconscious.
I laid her gently on the bed and carefully removed her dress, her bra, and her damp panties.
With a wet towel from the bathroom, I gently cleaned her up.
She didn't stir, just sighed contentedly when I pulled the covers over her.
I stripped off my suit, hanging it carefully because Vera would likely kill me if I ruined it, and crawled in beside her.
She immediately rolled toward me, seeking my warmth even in sleep, and I gathered her close. Her head found my chest, her hand splayed over my heart where Lucas and Santi's initials were inked into my skin. Her breathing was deep and even, peaceful in a way that made me ache with love.
I was still throbbing with need, unsatisfied, but I didn't care. Watching her come apart, making her pass out from pleasure—that was more than enough. I was fully satisfied just from making her fall apart, from seeing her trust me enough to let go completely.
I pressed a kiss to her hair and closed my eyes, finally ready to rest.
Tomorrow would come with its own challenges. Sarah's concerns wouldn't disappear overnight. Helen's wariness would take time to overcome. The crew tension at the station was still unresolved. Fire season approached, bringing danger and uncertainty with it.
But tonight, I had this. Vera in my arms, her love wrapping around me like armor, the certainty that whatever came next, we'd face it together.
Maybe I wasn't as broken as I thought. Or maybe Vera just made me want to be whole.
Either way, lying here with her in my arms, I felt something I hadn't felt since before Afghanistan.
Hope.
Hope that maybe I could have this. That maybe I deserved this. That maybe loving someone and being loved in return could be enough to outweigh everything I'd lost.
"I love you," I whispered into the darkness, knowing she couldn't hear but needing to say it anyway. "Thank you for seeing me. All of me. And choosing me anyway."
Vera sighed in her sleep, her fingers flexing against my chest, and I finally let myself drift off, held safe by the woman who'd somehow made me believe in second chances when I hadn't even thought I'd deserved first ones.