Sunday 5 June 2016

Flame.

When I head upstairs Loch is reading. He looks up almost with suspicion before getting up and crossing to me. He puts all the lights on and inspects me all over. Lifts up my chin, looks behind my ears, between my fingers, underneath my knees.

You okay? He says it shamefully, quietly. As if I wasn't even expected. Like I would have stayed had I know I could have or was supposed to. I nod. Yes. We did the paperwork on the house, had a Lag and now I'm home.

Did you have a fight to get out?

Not really, I lie.

The relief is instantaneous and he takes my hands, pushing them up high above my head, pulling my dress up with them, then the dress is off and thrown to the floor. My lingerie follows until there is nothing in his way and then he keeps my hands, spinning me away, facedown onto the bed, following me, letting go as he pins me with his weight, then wrapping one hand around the back of my head and wrapping the other down around the side of the bed frame for leverage.

Leverage. This is amazing. Oh my God.

All of his weight comes down against my hips and all I can do is hold on to my pillow, twisting it up in my hands far up above my head. I can't breathe, I can't move. I cry out and he lets go of the bed, sliding his hand underneath my hips, pulling them up hard against him. Bridge, he cries out against my ear, turning me over so fiercely that I twist my skin hard against him, almost screaming as we fit back together face to face, fumbling to climb back inside each other where we belong. He pulls my arms up around his neck, tightening his hold around my back, jamming his chin hard against my head, rocking tightly against me. It's seven hundred degrees in the room and about a thousand between us and the sparks start to dance out from the darkest corners as we work hard to make it a full-fledged fire. Suddenly he pulls me up into his lap and the flames bloom all around us as he presses his lips against my neck, slowing down, breathing hard, fingers digging in against my hips. Pulling me in hard and then pushing me away again, smiling at my tiny cries as I rest my head against his shoulder finally, sweat dripping from my nose, stinging my eyes, leaving my fingers unable to hold onto his shoulders. So I let go and fall to the sheets and he lies down beside me and exhales slowly.

I'm sorry, Bridge. 

Glad we waited until after that to make up, I admit and he laughed and blushed. I didn't think we could get any more red but we can.