Chapter Thirty-two #3
And like a possessed creature myself, I turned him onto his back again, coming to rest astride him. The view of him beneath me was a dream. Strong and wanting me. Straining against me.
I undid the button on his trousers and he watched me as I pulled them from his legs. Then his underpants, so he sprang free. Shockingly hard, almost purple in a readiness that had me blushing. I took him in my hand and he pushed into me.
‘Go easy on me, Mary.’ He almost laughed. Like I was capable of undoing him entirely.
I wanted to touch him and kiss him, but the urge just to sink my hips right over him, to see how much of him I could take in, was too much.
‘Abel.’ I was getting frantic now. I wasn’t polite. I wasn’t thinking clearly beyond the fact that I couldn’t stand a moment longer without him inside me. ‘A condom. I need a condom.’
He laughed again and I was almost maddened by the fact that he was still capable of humour.
‘The first aid kit.’
‘Where is it?’ I ordered.
‘Is it a sex emergency, Mary?’ He was such a tease. Such a tease.
‘Yes! It’s a sex emergency.’ My voice was almost hysterical – a cry, a laugh.
He indicated the box and after a moment of rifling through, I located my silver-foiled saviour.
Abel was watching me with an enchanted sort of amusement as I settled myself back over him so he was pressing right against the lace overlying my opening.
‘Are you finding this funny, are you?’
He grinned and he was so beautiful. So incredibly beautiful. ‘It’s perfect. That’s all.’
Somehow the next few moments happened slowly, patiently, in a way I didn’t think we would have been capable of just moments before.
His hand reached for my breast and I watched his eyes close and his Adam’s apple bob in something like reverence. When his eyes opened, they were inky, following his fingers as they traced all the way down to my knickers.
‘Undress me,’ I whispered, rising to my knees, inviting his touch lower and lower.
With a directing hand on my hip, he spun me on my back, delicately peeling the garment past my thighs and knees and ankles until they were free.
All the while, he whispered, almost to himself, ‘Mary, Mary, Mary.’
Finally I was naked, and he pulled me over him so my body rested above his again and he watched me, as though entirely captivated by me. ‘Show me what you want.’
I’d never felt so powerful, so beautiful nor so utterly aroused.
His hands gripped my waist as I dragged myself along the length of him, my slickness making me glide across him, my clit an epicentre of sensation. And when he was right there, poised to enter me, I knew this was going to claim me. No one else would ever satisfy me.
His strangled groan signalled the last of our control and as I lowered myself down onto him, his eyes seemed to go completely black.
I went slow, marvelling in the experience of him filling some place inside me that made no sense, in a way that was so fucking exquisite it was like we’d been made for this moment alone.
Sex was always something I had liked, but this, this was beyond anything. I felt as though I was swelling, completely taken over by sensation, and I was lost to it in both an exhilarating and terrifying way.
He seemed to sense how completely I was going to come apart.
And how completely wild and frightening that felt.
In an effortless sweep, he had me on my back, his forearms cradling my head, his hand on my cheek.
He paused a moment, just filling me, holding me there.
I was his, in every possible sense. I was his.
‘It’s okay, Mary,’ he whispered. ‘You can let go. I’m right here with you.’
And I did. When he rocked into me, I let myself go in a way I never had before.
We were synchronising like light waves, or sound waves, or some otherworldly, indefinable new waveform, building in intensity and powerless to stop it.
My brain was gone, finally unscrupulous and lacking judgement.
I was fire, I was feeling. I was Abel’s and he was mine.
And as we built in climax, I came apart, all over him and around him as he came apart in me and I had no idea where I’d land but it didn’t matter, because in that moment, in our tangled cries, we had met in nirvana.
It was the most beautiful, shocking and uninhibited brilliance I had ever, ever known.
There are events in the universe that leave you awed enough to shift the sense of ordinariness of the everyday life.
That shake you from the tasks and the treadmill, the expectations and the things that define you.
Like the majesty of an Aurora Australis across the night sky.
Like the shift in tectonic plates on a ground that had felt immovable.
Like the downpour of a once-in-a-hundred-years flood.
Terrifying and spectacular and awe-inspiring.
The experience in that little loft room on the Tasman Peninsula was one of those. Enough to make me feel that something within me would forever be changed. Like I had been witness to a divine experience; celestial, holy. The sort of feeling that I imagined whole religions could be born from.
When I woke the next morning to the soft sunshine peering beneath the curtains of our room, I knew life would never feel quite the same again.
I felt simultaneously full to the brim with wonder and already aching at the thought that now I knew this wonder, life could never be satisfactory without it. Both enigmatic and frightening.
I turned in Abel’s arms and his eyes opened to meet mine.
He was so beautiful, I felt a stab of pleasure and fear in equal measure.
This is what I had been afraid of in taking this step.
As much as I had been desperate for him for months, now I was his, I’d be at his mercy for as long as I could possibly imagine.
His gaze held me with the most tender affection I could ever dream of. ‘Mary,’ he whispered.
‘Abel.’ My hand was on his chest where I felt his steady heartbeat.
‘I think I had the most beautiful dream of my life,’ he said with a smile.
‘I think I went somewhere I’ve never been before,’ I whispered and I could hear the fragility in my voice.
‘I know, sweetheart.’ He kissed my forehead. ‘I did too.’
I felt as full as a perfectly blown bubble and as vulnerable to being broken.
It was wonderful and terrifying. It would be too much to tell him in that moment how I loved him, how viscerally, wholly I loved him.
It would be way too soon. And the risk that it wouldn’t be reciprocated would be too awful.
But in his arms, in the warm glow of his beautiful gaze, I could almost imagine a life like this.
Where I was his, and he was mine and I could live in a way that was bolder and braver than I’d thought possible, where my vulnerability could be safe, and he would hold me and tell me, ‘I’m right here with you. ’