The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and sweat, mingling into a heady perfume that hangs heavy in the room. My fingers trail up and down her spine, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath against my shoulder. Her hair falls like a waterfall over us, obscuring our faces, blurring the line between where she ends and I begin. She arches her back, pressing her breasts into my chest, and I can feel the heat emanating from between her legs.
Our movements become more urgent, more primal, as if we're dancing to some ancient, forgotten rhythm. I nip at her neck, feeling the sharp intake of breath, the way her body trembles in response. Her hands cup my face, her thumbs brushing over my lips, urging me downwards. I obey, sucking gently on her nipple before taking it deeper into my mouth, rolling it between my tongue and teeth.
She moans, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through my entire body. I can feel her fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me as I continue to tease her breast. My other hand slips between us, finding her wet and ready, and I begin to stroke her slowly, rhythmically, my thumb circling her clit.
Her hips buck upwards, meeting my touch, and I can feel her growing need, the tension building
in her lower body. I suck harder on her nipple, feeling the peak harden under my tongue, as my thumb continues its relentless circling. She gasps, arching her back further, her hands scrabbling at the sheets beneath her.
I trail my free hand down her stomach, feeling the muscles tense and relax as I drag my fingers across them. Lower, lower, until I reach the soft curls guarding her entrance. I part them, revealing her slick, swollen folds, and begin to tease her with gentle circles of my finger. Her breath hitches in her throat, and she thrusts her hips forward, grinding against my hand.
Her movements grow wilder, more urgent, as she nears the brink. I match her pace, my thumb pressing harder against her clit, circling faster and faster. She gasps my name, her voice raw and desperate, and her body tenses, arching off the bed. A shudder runs through her, and she comes, hard, her inner walls squeezing tight around my fingers.
I continue to stroke her, even as she subsides, my touch gentle and soothing. She collapses back against the bed, breathless and spent. I move up to kiss her, tasting the saltiness of her skin, the sweetness of her lips. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel her hands slip between us again, finding my aching center.
Her touch is firm and sure, guiding me as she strokes me slowly, teasingly. I moan into her kiss, arching my back to meet her touch. She's so good at this, so skilled. I feel myself growing harder, more desperate for release. She senses it too, and her pace picks up, her fingers pressing deeper, finding a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through my body.
I grip her shoulders, digging my nails in slightly as I lose myself in the sensation. She kisses me deeply, her tongue dancing with mine, and I can feel the tension building, building, building. I thrust my hips upwards, meeting her touch, feeling the familiar tightness begin to coil in my lower belly.
Her fingers are relentless, her touch so skilled. I can feel it building, building, building, and with a cry that is more pleasure than pain, I come, my body shuddering with release. She holds me close, kissing me tenderly as my breathing slows and I come back to myself.
She pulls away, her lips trailing down my neck and collarbone, and looks into my eyes. Her own are glassy with desire and satisfaction. "You're incredible," she whispers, her voice still ragged from our exertions. I smile, feeling the warmth spread through my entire body. "So are you," I reply, kissing her softly.
The air still heavy with the scent of jasmine and sweat, we lie entangled in the sheets, our hearts racing, our skin slick with sweat and pleasure. For a moment, the world around us fades away, leaving only the two of us, lost in this perfect moment of connection. And in that instant, I know that I am home.
Her fingers continue to explore my body, tracing patterns over my chest and abdomen, her touch feather-light but impossibly tender. I arch into her touch, my hips instinctively moving in time with her hands. She smiles down at me, her eyes taking in every inch of my skin, and it feels like she's seeing me for the first time.
It's a heady feeling, this sense of being truly seen. And as she continues to touch me, I realize that it's something I've been missing for a long time. I want to tell her everything - about my past, my hopes, my fears. I want to crawl inside her skin and feel what it's like to be her for just a day.
But for now, I content myself with the intimacy of our bodies, the way she moves against me like we've been dancing this waltz for centuries. She slides her hands up my chest, cupping my breasts through the thin fabric of my tank top, and I arch into her touch, gasping as her thumbs brush over my nipples. The sensation is exquisite, and I feel the familiar tightening in my core as my arousal grows.
Her lips find mine, her tongue thrusting between my teeth in a hungry, demanding kiss. I moan into her mouth, my hands tangling in her hair as I pull her closer. She responds with a low growl, her hips grinding against mine in a rhythm that matches the beat of my heart.
I feel her unfasten my top, pushing it up and over my head, revealing my naked breasts to the cool air of the room. She leans in, taking a nipple between her lips, sucking gently at first and then harder, her hand moving to cup and squeeze my other breast. I cry out, arching into her touch as pleasure shoots through me in hot, pulsing waves.
My fingers find the hem of her shirt, tugging it up and over her head. She's beautiful, lithe and strong and so damn sexy. I trail my hands up her sides, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips, the hardness of her ribs as I reach her shoulders. She moans when I skim my thumbs across her nipples, already hard and peaked, and I can feel the heat emanating from her core.
She pushes me onto my back, straddling my hips, and leans in to kiss me again. Her breasts brush against my chest as she moves, the friction sending sparks of desire shooting through me. I reach for the button of her jeans, fumbling with it before she slips her hand between us, stilling my movements. She looks down at me, her eyes hooded with desire, and I feel a shiver run down my spine.
"Tell me what you want," she whispers. "Tell me what you need."
It's the question I've been waiting for her to ask. The question that will determine if this night is everything I've been hoping for, and more. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, and then I tell her the truth.
"I want you," I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I want you to make me feel like I'm home."
Her reply is a low growl. "I can do that." She leans down, kissing me softly before sliding her body down mine, her lips trailing a path over my chest and stomach. She pauses at my navel, kissing it gently before moving lower, her hair tickling my skin as she goes. When she reaches my hips, she spreads my legs wider, revealing my wetness to her.
Her fingers dip between my legs, stroking me through my underwear. I arch into her touch, moaning her name as she teases me mercilessly. She kisses my inner thigh, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin there. My hips buck up off the bed, seeking more contact.
Her fingers slide under the elastic of my underwear, parting my folds. She slips a finger inside me, circling my clit as she begins to kiss and lick and suckle. I cry out, my back arching off the mattress, my hands tangled in her hair.
She's relentless, her mouth and fingers moving in perfect harmony, driving me higher and higher. I feel the familiar tightening in my core, the impending release coiling in my belly. She pushes a second finger inside me, stretching me, filling me, and I can feel myself starting to lose control.
"Oh god, oh god, I'm going to-" I try to warn her, but the words come out garbled and incoherent. She laughs, her breath hot against my skin, and then she pushes a third finger inside me, curling them all up, finding that perfect spot that makes me see stars.
My body tenses, my muscles clenching around her fingers as I come, my cries of pleasure filling the room. She continues to stroke me through my orgasm, milking every last drop of pleasure from my body. And when I finally relax, she kisses her way up my body, looking into my eyes as she slips her fingers from between my legs.
"There," she says, her voice soft and satisfied. "Now you feel like home."
