Bringing Her Back

She was on the top floor when he finally came. She hadn't heard him and he'd been forced to bang on the door repeatedly to rouse her to the door. She was angry at the intrusion to her privacy, she had been on a roll all morning. She didn't even stop to consider it being him. As she neared the door she realized that she hadn't felt anger of this kind in too long, it was marvelous.

She went from 60 to 0 instantly. She stepped back to let him pass into the kitchen and closed the door slowly without turning to face him. His mind raced around what to say to her all the while he was acutely aware that his attraction to her was gaining control of him.

As she turned to him she pressed body into his and her lips to his mouth, her arms came around his neck. He instantly dropped his bag when her lips touched his and pulled her body to his. He'd ached to feel her pressed to him. His hands finally allowed to soothe this ache, sought out areas long dreamed of. She wasn't thinking. She was suddenly aware that she wasn't thinking, couldn't think. Only feel. His hands on her, his lips on her mouth, throat, chest. His shudders as she slid her fingers under the hem of his shirt made her hungry to incite more. When she moved her hands to his flat stomach he groaned. As she moved them beneath the edge of his pants he went still, with his forehead to hers. "Tessa", he hesitated, moved deliberately, putting his hands on her either side of her neck with his thumbs under her jaw. She gripped the waist of his pants and gazed up at him wide eyed and waiting. He took a measured moment before continuing. "Did you like the painting?"

How he had managed it was a mystery to her but she was laughing. Really, really laughing. She'd missed it, and hadn't even realized that she did. He made it so easy so free. She released his pants and brought her arms around his back as the mirth died down. He felt like he was being assaulted. First the sudden kiss, god, the kiss. That would have him hard all day. Then the laughter, so unrestrained and true. And at the same time sexy and feminine. The third threat had been the smile the came with the laughter and how her eyes lit up. She should always look like that. Suddenly his visions of her grieving were intolerable. He would clear them, from both of their minds. His intention had been to slow the passion before he was taking her on the kitchen floor. A risky joke, that he had feared would hurt her had brought them closer, more intimate.

She'd been blown away by the painting. He didn't known how he cared about this until she said it. Then he knew that he would have been devastated if she hadn't. He would have felt he didn't know her at all. But he didn't really, he reminded himself. Yet he felt like he did. She saw them, his thoughts, and knew his questions were coming.

"How did you know about the light? And what to wear? And how to sit? What is with your basement? Why did it feel like painting with you, in you, of you...." he paused a moment. "You're an artist." She nodded even though it wasn't a question.

"What are the chances?" She shrugged. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't ask, sounds foolish but it's the truth."

"It doesn't sound foolish. I'm glad you didn't tell me. That night would not have been so important, so intense if I had known. If I had known you would judge as an artist, not as you, a woman."

"What do you do? I mean how do you work? Paint? Sculpt?"

She eyed him for a long moment and he felt sure he was being judged. He felt confident as well though.

"Would you like to come upstairs?" He nodded. The basement was fully explained now, nick knacks and props for paintings. Different colored backgrounds, the lighting arrangement. The middle floor now seemed out of place, especially as he stepped into the top floor. Her studio. The ceilings were high, very high and vaulted. Large windows faced east. The upper walls were covered with paintings and prints and photographs ranging from master works to personal favorites. The walls within easy reaching distance were covered with papers, canvases, references and more. Obviously many projects were going on. He felt overwhelmed. Many of the paintings overhead were seemingly originals. Come to think of it he couldn't remember where that particular Durer was.

He moved slowly towards an area where things were most chaotic. He took this to be the current work area, or at least it would be in his studio. He was startled. She had captured him perfectly. From above, cutting wood, painting, smiling. She had no record of his face for 5 days and still produced such drawings. The tone of them, the energy and clarity. He sensed her longing for him but could not say why.

"Oh, my god." She was waiting behind him, obviously aware of who she was and that he had finally made the connection. He still had to say it.

"You're Tessa Grayson?" She nodded. Jesus Christ. The stories in the paper had been bad. They didn't give all the details but he had a good imagination. Her's had been a story of unimaginable pain and lose. It dawned on him that the first time he had been on the roof was to clear his head of her story, to get the awful details from his mind. Then he had seen her and she seemed to be the way to clear them. But he hadn't been able to quite capture her from memory and by then his interest had shifted from Tessa Grayson (a brief interest in a newspaper article) to the stunning woman down the street.

Simply being in her studio gave her a certain peace. This was her home within her home. No question of access, it was Tessa's studio of course. They hadn't been with her here. She didn't demand solitude but it was an easy peaceful division. Because of that she was safe here from anything too painful. It was her haven. Her peace was shaken loose as it dawned on him who she was. She now felt exposed in her studio, bared to him as woman and artist. She held her ground and went with her natural trust in him. At least she was glad he was looking at her drawings of him. She wanted him to know that he had haunted her as much as she him. She didn't like having the ball in her court.

"Well, you'll have to paint me now."

"I haven't worked since." It was unspoken and answered his question of whether to tell her he knew her disaster. "I've always seen images, in my minds eye, real eye, wherever. Their existence is what drove me to paint. I felt compelled to get them down, least I should forget them. All my paintings have started as an image in my mind, that came from seemingly nowhere. But since, I only see faces. And only the faces I can no longer see. I see them somewhat clearly but as I try to look at any one in particular they fade or blur away. No one wants to see a painting of that."

He gave her space, sensed she needed it. Too much sympathy was stifling.

"But...now there is another face. One as clear to me as my vision used to be. I'm starting to believe that it can be easy again."

He held up the drawing of himself he was holding, questioningly. She nodded.

"You just barged in", she said her voice trailing off. She was suddenly small and weak to him. He found himself holding her, arms and all and slowly swaying with her forehead against his cheek.

He couldn't help his reaction. He couldn't help it even more when she mewed softly into his neck and pushed herself against him. Why did this woman have to be damn appealing, even in the least auspicious moments. He didn't want to seem over eager, pushing her into something. But he wanted her, ached for her.

"Tessa, I should go."

"Why?" She got the distinct impression he didn't believe that line himself.

"If I don't leave now", he had dropped his voice to a low whisper, right at her ear, "I won't want to stop myself from doing the things I want to do to you."

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. Then she was all over him, her wet mouth on his sending heat through his body. He answered with an open mouth and teasing tongue and got a muffled moan in return. He pulled her close to him, his hands instantly running under her t-shirt as they crossed behind her back. She arched her back into him, pressing her breasts into his chest and her thighs against his. She got intensity in return. It pulsed from him into her as he kissed her passionately.

"I've never done anything like this in my life" he said breathlessly as he pulled back to look down on her. "You are so beautiful, you know that, don't you?"

She hesitated, so he kissed her in a way that proved it to her. His hands now urged the t-shirt up-wards, caressing as they went. She stepped back from him, her bra was white satin and the image of clean beauty made him want to take her that instant. He had never felt such lack of control before. His former love had been a stable true relationship. But nothing like this heat, this fire. If he didn't get naked with her quickly, he didn't know what he was going to do.

Tessa reached out and pulled the hem of his shirt up and over his head. He grew more and more aroused as he watched her take him in. Her face gave little mystery to the pleasure she took in seeing him. She leaned forward again undoing his belt and pants as he took the opportunity to play with her hair. The sensations across her head stopped her hands for a moment as she let her head fall back into his hands. As he massaged and pulled, he yearned to give her greater pleasure, with these moans just mere practice for the ones he knew he could elicit. She bent back to her task and belatedly, his shoes as well. Before he knew what was happening the gorgeous little thing had stripped him of his clothes and was on her knees before him.

"Tessa...?" But then she was kissing his stomach and moving downward and all he could do was gasp and twitch as her mouth found sensitive spots. She stopped and glanced up but he looked at her with such adoration and urgency that she picked up her trail again. The fire she'd seen in his eyes intoxicated her, made her want to please him to foster it. Her hands slid down his sides along with her mouth. She let one slide down ahead and take him in her hand. His hand was suddenly in her hair and she felt him shudder. She smiled to herself as she handled, rubbed, and caressed him. He had nearly forgotten about her mouth by the time she got there. But then all else was forgotten.

Abruptly he stopped her, fell to his knees in front of her and answered her surprised look with fierce kisses. She had stripped naked in front of him, done the same to him, aroused him almost to the breaking point and still had not allowed him to touch her, not that he was complaining exactly. He bent his head to her nipple and tortured her there for a while. Suddenly, and too soon, he stood up but when she looked to see he was reaching for her and picking her up. Her bed was in the corner of the studio farthest from the windows, which over looked the river. He took her instead to the pile of pillows she though of as a nest in one of the floor to ceiling windows.

He looked down at her, slowly letting his gaze follow her. She watched his eyes and they turned her on more each time they lingered. His breath was coming hard. "That's better," he said as he bent again to her nipple, this time devoting all of himself to the task, well, that and where his hands roamed. He smoothed his right hand down her other breast under it, down her stomach, across her belly, down her hip and up her inner thigh. She parted easily for him and arched her back, pressing her chest against him even harder. He was getting dizzy he was so turned on, when he felt the wetness between her legs he had to stop. He put his forehead down on her chest and took several long breaths. She stroked his hair, neck, back, writhing, urging.

Painfully, he said "It has been many years since I've found myself in this position, and I'm afraid that you are doing everything in your power to make it last as little as possible." He gave a little laugh at the end. He met her gaze as she pulled him down to her mouth and startled him with slow long kisses. She urged no change in pace but began to move her hips in motion to the lazy rhythm they were making.

His hand that had frozen between her legs began to move again and he muffled her cry as his finger entered her. He was on top of her and his weight felt good, his hand was moving inside her making her go mad with pleasure. She clung to him; he kissed her everywhere he could reach and lowered his head to her nipple again. He knew she was coming. Then she was silent, but violently so. Arching her body against him, she shuddered around his hand. The sensation was almost enough to push him over with her. He wanted to see her and jerked his head back form her neck. She was all beauty and colors. Bathed in the window's natural golden light, she was flawless to his eyes. Sweating and breathless, completely under his spell, naked in his arms. Perfect. He had never felt possessive of a woman before but he felt it now, in sudden and breath taking clarity. He loved her.

"Mmmm, that w-"

"Shh."

"But.."

"You can tell me after, we're not done, you're not done." He sat up abruptly, between her legs. She was spread open, in front of the windows, in her studio. She was mad, she could feel it, and it felt fucking great. His hands were on her inner thighs and she was wiggling against them. "You are so sexy". It was enough of a compliment to make her retract in shyness and self-consciousness for a brief moment. His mouth came down on the sensitive spot just below her belly button. She moaned up to him. His hands held her hips and started a southward march to match his lips. She smiled as she recognized his method. It worked, she conceded. When his mouth got to her he moved his hands in to rub her inner thighs making her nearly buck. She almost laughed at herself too. Then his mouth was on her and all she could do was moan. Her hands were in his hair as she came against his mouth, grinding into him. He slid a finger into her and felt her shudder and tighten on him again. With two fingers she cried out his name.

She was sweaty, tangled, sprawled, and his, at that moment his. He watched her while he waited for her to gather herself. His hands were slowly bringing her out of the fog. He kissed her mouth and she smiled into his mouth as she kissed him back. Then suddenly he was entering her. She gasped at the intense pleasure as he bore into her. It had been years since she had been penetrated, and never by anything the size of him. The feeling was amazing. She called out, moved with him, moved against him, she felt out of control as she came crashing into orgasm, shuddering around him, buried deep in her. He felt her grip him, pulsing around him. She begged and moaned. But he merely whispered in her ear that they weren't finished yet, she wasn't finished yet. She was just as wet as when he started fucking her and he somehow still had time left in him.

Still in her, he lifted himself up, bringing his arms straight. He looked down on her gorgeously naked, well sexed, and totally willing body. He started slowly pushing deeper than he had been, fucking her slowly and deeply. First she tensed whenever he pushed to the end but after only a few moments of gentle fucking he felt her move against him, slowly at first, then faster until she was fucking him as much as he was taking her. He rolled with her, pulling her on top of him. Grabbing her hips he pushed his cock as deep into her as he could, watching her shudder and moan against him.

His hands were on her breasts again rubbing, needing, squeezing, as she rode him. Faster and faster as she felt her pussy begin to tighten. She reached a plateau and moved even faster and harder against him, struggling for her own orgasm, knowing her's would bring his long awaited release. He clutched her nipples suddenly as she ground into him rubbing her clit on him as his cock touched all the right places inside. She felt herself go, automatically with the added sensations. She moved her hips faster and faster until she stopped, hands on his chest, hair fallen over her bent head. She bucked once as the ripples moved through her, tossing her head she threw her hair back and he knew he would come in her pussy. She bucked against him again and cried out his name as she felt him spurt against her and his cock vibrated inside her. She moved a few more times, deliberately, slowly and deeply, making him groan and call her name. Then she fell against him, the world outside totally forgotten.