More Than You Know Ch. 05bytml_writer©
I woke up to fingers lightly caressing my chest and the feeling of Luke's body surrounding mine. As I opened my eyes, the sunlight filtering through the windows made me squint as I stretched. I turned my head and glanced behind me, and Luke's amber eyes were shining with the morning light, a smile teasing his lips, his fingers still dancing on my chest.
"Good morning," he grumbled. I melted inside. With a yawn, I flipped on top of him and snuggled into his chest, giving an appropriate "mmph" in response to his greeting.
"Someone's a morning person," he said sarcastically. I felt the vibrations in his chest and I smiled, too, as his arms wrapped around me.
"Shut up. I get one morning to sleep in and I'm taking it."
"Not if I don't let you."
I glared up at him. He gently ran his fingers through my hair and smiled down at me. God, he was gorgeous. I brought my hands up and put them underneath my chin to rest my head.
"So, why aren't you worried about getting to work?" I asked.
"Because I scheduled myself a day off today."
"A day off? Who gets those?" I said, realizing subconsciously that I was jealous—I hadn't had a day to myself in many, many years.
"Me," he grinned, kissing me on the forehead. "Especially when I'm enjoying a morning in with the most beautiful man in the world."
"Yeah, okay," I said, trying not to smile and lead on that he was able to touch me at the very core with the things he said. He slapped me on the arm.
"I was being serious." He picked his head up again and looked down at me. I scooted up and gave him a quick kiss before rolling off of him and sitting up. Suddenly, his arms had me in an iron grip that wouldn't let me get up.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm getting up," I said simply, giving him a look that probably said 'duh'.
"Not so fast," he said, pulling me back down by my shirt and giving me another kiss. I pulled away.
"Hm-mm," I said, shaking my head. "I have morning breath."
"I don't care, Steven." He kissed me again.
"You are the only person on the planet, I think."
"You don't seem to mind too much." More kissing.
"I wasn't given a choice," I defended, grinning.
"Oh, drop the martyr act, Joan. You could be up in the bathroom brushing your teeth if you wanted. I can't make you do anything you don't want to."
"That is true. Just remember it."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
We spent a few more minutes sporadically kissing and relaxing before I finally did get up to use the bathroom. I swished some water in my mouth—I hated the minty taste of toothpaste lingering while I ate, otherwise I would have brushed. I looked in the mirror. My hair was a disaster, my eyes were squinty and tired from just waking up, my clothes were a wrinkled catastrophe, and I had marks from wrinkles in Luke's shirt imprinted on the side of my face. I was a hot mess.
And yet, here was a man in my house—on my couch, no less—respecting my boundaries wholeheartedly, and yet still very clear in the fact that he wanted me. He was a catch, that much was certain: he was way too handsome for a guy like me, and he had an amazing body and a sweet disposition. Still, he wanted me, and had no qualms about showing it—appropriately, of course—even the few times we had been in public or out with Ana.
I looked back in the mirror. It was time for me to start chipping at the walls I had kept around myself. It had barely been a month, but already I trusted Luke. I knew that there would be no other man coming along in the near future who would be nearly as perfect for me as him, even if it didn't last as long as my subconscious was already planning. He had been patient with me, hadn't pushed, had always listened, and still held his own. We were good together, and if it was going to move any farther, I needed to let him in a little.
I hung my hand towel back on the holder and sighed. All this from a glance in the mirror at seven in the morning. I turned out the light and walked back out to the kitchen, finding Luke bent over in front of the refrigerator.
"Wow, help yourself to my food," I said, walking up to him as he stood back up. "You crash on my couch, now you eat my food, what's next?" I ignored the little voice in my head telling me that the answer was him moving in. It really was way too soon for that.
"Well, okay, I guess I'll just leave," he said, pouting his lower lip out to look like a toddler who has just been told to share a toy. I kissed him.
"What do you want? I don't have much, but I can make some eggs or oatmeal."
"How about some oatmeal?"
"It's not instant, so it'll take a few minutes," I warned him. He just smiled.
"That's fine. While you're cooking and I'm helping, you can tell me about Adam."
Well, then. That was ironic timing, what with my mirror revelation and all.
To say Steven looked shocked when I mentioned Adam would have been an understatement. I will give him credit for keeping his cool, though.
"Who told you about Adam?" he asked evenly.
"Peter, when we were all at Mid's together."
"How much did he tell you?" He looked at me, and leaned against the counter. "I'm not angry that he told you, don't worry. I just want to know where to start."
"He only told me that you were married," I said.
"Okay." He turned back around to the kettle on the stove and told me about Adam all throughout breakfast. When he told me about Adam's cancer right after Ana's adoption, it was hard for me to listen. I could see that Adam was comfortable enough to tell it without crying, but I could feel the pain emanating from him.
I was touched. Steven didn't give himself nearly enough credit in any of the situations, but what he told me solidified my feelings for him. He was selfless, loving, and caring—a nurturer through and through. He had no idea how amazing he was, either—none whatsoever. I mean, honestly, who is able to balance a successful full-time job, a (full-time) daughter, friends, and family, and not alienate anyone except himself and his own desires? Nowadays, there aren't very many of those people left.
Oh, goodness. This man was getting under my skin and there was nothing I could do about it . . . not that I wanted to.
After he had finished, we passed a few minutes in comfortable silence. Finally, his eyes met mine as he set down his glass after the last sip of orange juice. They were beautiful, dark brown, and so soulful.
"Steven, you are an amazing man." I looked in his eyes until he looked away.
"I'm not quite sure what to say to that," he said, taking our bowls and glasses to the sink. I followed him and wrapped my arms around his torso as he rinsed the dishes.
"How about 'thank you'?" I said, bending down to kiss his neck as he smiled. He turned off the water and turned around, wrapping his arms around my neck.
"You're more amazing," he said to me as I leaned down to kiss him. His phone rang in his pocket just as my tongue had accessed delightful entry in his mouth.
"Sorry," he said, looking up to me with apologetic eyes. "That's probably Ana." We both looked at the screen, and sure enough, it was her.
"Don't be sorry," I told him before he answered. "You're a dad. It happens."
He smiled as he picked up the phone. I watched as he walked back into the living room, his lithe frame gracefully leaning against the arm of the sofa. Even just a few years ago, this wouldn't have worked for me. I would have wanted a faster track for the relationship, a different kind of man to be around. I don't know if it was me aging or if it was just a change in how my life was paced that led me to a greater appreciation for the moments where you can see a person so simply. He curled one leg up as he smiled. His eyes darted back to me for a second and my stomach flipped a bit. He was so damned beautiful.
"Ana says hello," he said, smirking and shaking his head as he walked back into the kitchen to finish the dishes before he went to pick her up from her friend's house.
"Of course she does," I smiled. That girl had a sixth sense.
Erin and Peter looked at me from across the table while Luke was in the bathroom. We had agreed on a double date that night at a cozy sushi restaurant in town. Once Ana had found out about it, she had readily made plans with her best friend, Ariel, for a movie night in her family's home theatre. I had seen their house before, and while it was a bit excessive, Ariel's parents were down-to-earth people who weren't afraid to set boundaries, a refreshing change to most of Ana's classmates' parents. Plus, Ariel and Ana were nearly inseparable.
"I see things have been going well," Erin said. "What's it been, a little over three months?"
I thought about it for a second. "Yeah, I guess it has." I couldn't help the smile that appeared on my face. While the past month had made Luke and I discover that we definitely had our share of differences, it was also clear that we were good together. Even when it was hard, it was easy, and while that sounds contradictory, it's the only way to describe it.
"Look at you. You finally met someone who could cheer up your cynical ass," Peter grinned, taking a swig of his beer.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I grumbled, the smile still playing at my lips.
"Sshhh, quiet, here he comes," Peter said audibly as Luke sat down next to me. Erin attempted to shoot him a chastising sideways glance, but the look in her eyes came out amused and in love instead.
"Oh, god, what, are we in third grade again?" Luke asked, smiling. He and Peter got along very well, yet another thing that made me crazy about him.
"Third grade? He's still stuck in kindergarten," Erin answered.
"I'm not surprised."
"Oh, like you have any room to talk," I said to Luke.
"Me? Little ol' me?" He put his hand on his chest and batted his eyelashes. I couldn't help but smile at his expression. "What were you saying about little ol' me, anyhow?"
"Just how naturally charming you clearly are," Peter said, gesturing to Luke's southern-old-lady stance.
"But of course," he said. "How do you think I bagged this one?" He leaned over, put his arm around me, and kissed my temple. Even when he was being such an idiot, it was hard not to swoon. "Was'n'it my natch-rull charm, puddin'?"
"Oh, get over yourself, you big lunk," I grinned, pushing him back into his chair. "I'm just after your fortune."
"Oh, darlin', you are going to be really disappointed, then," he said in his normal voice, a bit of the Southern accent still holding on.
"I don't believe that for a second," I said, returning his smoldering gaze.
"Oh, my sweet Mary, Jesus, and Joseph, if I have to listen to this any more, I think I'm going to throw up," Erin exclaimed.
"What's the matter, honey? After all, I have all the treasure you need," Peter oozed, smiling and raising his eyebrow suggestively.
"What is with you boys tonight? Steven, next time we get sushi, we're going alone," she smirked.
The rest of the meal went splendidly, including the ride home. The only problem was with me—for some reason, Luke had turned me on throughout the whole meal. I know he hadn't meant to, and nothing he did was overtly sexual, I just couldn't take it anymore. It had been over three months, and what we'd done physically up to this point stopped at kissing and some groping. I was appreciative of the space he'd given me, but seeing our relationship progress as it had, I was ready. Scratch that, I was more than ready.
I was gagging for it. For him.
He had just planned on coming in for a cup of coffee before heading home, I know, but as soon as he shut the door behind him, I practically pounced on him. He didn't miss a beat, though, and soon our tongues were fighting wonderfully as he walked me backwards against the wall.
"Wow, Tiger, what's gotten into you?" He sounded surprised at my dominance, and I smiled before my want overtook me again.
"Luke, I want you," I said, reaching for him. He grabbed my hands and looked into my eyes, bringing his face down so that it was nearly touching mine.
"Now, when you say 'want me', do you mean my fortune?" he inquired softly, his drawl again coming out to play.
"If that's how you want to refer to your assets," I replied, removing one hand from his and sliding it slowly down his torso as I spoke, "then yes, I want the whole damn estate."
"Okay, but just to be clear," he tilted my head up and looked into my eyes fervently, "you're okay with this? You want this, right?"
"I want you," I said simply. "And I want you tonight, any way you'll have me."
With that, the kissing and walking resumed, and I think it must have taken us fifteen minutes to traverse the distance to my bedroom, just because we were feeling and touching and undressing along the way. By the time we got to the bed, we were both shirtless, his pants were undone, and I was in heaven. The dusky light in the sky from the setting sun filtered through the large glass door and windows in my room, making the golden hair that dusted his chest and stomach gleam, and highlighted his beefy musculature to a tee. I was hooked. I backed him up against the bed and pushed him down, leaning atop him to grab his crotch and taste his skin, kissing my way from his neck to the middle of his chest to one perfectly-formed nipple. He moaned, giving me even more incentive, knowing that he was enjoying this as much as I was.
"Oh, god, Steven," he said as I grasped his manhood while gently biting the other nipple. I stroked him up and down as I kissed my way past his navel and to the base of his penis, his curls there the same deep blond as on his head. I peeled his pants, underwear, shoes and socks off in no time at all, greedy to see him completely nude.
He was beautiful, perfectly proportioned, his thighs thick and powerful like his upper body, dusted with the same golden hair as everywhere else except his upper arms, shoulders, and back. Dear lord, I had my own personal Adonis, and he was in my bed, arms sprawled out and legs slightly spread. His dick was just as pretty, about seven inches, uncut, and of a mouth-watering thickness. While I occasionally enjoyed topping, I had to feel him inside me tonight. I kneeled by the bed and kissed my way up his length, then swallowed him and played with his balls. I let my full oral abilities loose, and he seemed to enjoy himself. I experimentally ran my tongue and fingers further down, approaching his rosebud, and when he reacted positively, I rubbed a finger around it and massaged while I sucked him.
"Steven, stop, or I'm going to come," he gasped, as if that was incentive for me to stop. I let my spit-slick finger penetrate him just enough to get to his prostate, and he lost it. I've always loved swallowing, and this time was no exception. As he came down from his orgasm, he sat up, grabbed me, pulled me onto the bed, and kissed me while removing my pants.
"Steven, what do you want tonight?" he asked me between kisses as his hands roamed over my chest, my stomach, my cock.
"Every now and again, I really like giving," I told him, just to gauge his reaction. He smiled, seemingly unfazed, so I continued. "But tonight, I'd really like to feel you inside me."
"I think that can be arranged. We need to give little Luke a chance to take a breather first—after all, I'm not 20 anymore—but I think I'll have you begging for it by the time he's ready. How's that?" he asked.
I answered by kissing him again as he ran his hand up and down my length, my precum making it slick, and then sticky. He moved down on the bed on all fours, looking up at me as he took me in his mouth. I could see in his eyes how turned on he was, and at the same time how much I meant to him. He lifted my legs up and worked his way down, licking at my ass. I had always loved getting rimmed, and it made me glad that I had prepared and cleaned before I left for dinner earlier. I lost myself in the pleasure, my hard cock leaking against my stomach as his tongue penetrated me. He grabbed the lube from beside me (when did he find that?) and circled it around my hole with his finger. When he slid his middle finger in completely, I cried out. I couldn't help it—it had been years since someone other than myself had done this, and I had forgotten how amazing it felt with someone you care about. I squirmed in pleasure as he patiently took a lot of time to get me ready, sucking me all the while.
"Condoms?" he asked, three fingers still moving inside me.
"Second drawer," I managed, lost in pleasure as he administered his talent on my ass. He kept his fingers inside me while grabbing a condom from my nightstand with the other hand.
"You feel so good," he told me, kissing me deeply as he gave me the condom to open. I rolled it down his shaft as he kept fingering me, then took the lube and rubbed it over both his dick and mine. He moved into place, grabbing one of my many pillows to put under my lower back before wiggling into place and kissing me. I wrapped my legs around him as he slid slowly into me.
As much as I'd like to say there was no pain, it had been many years, and so even with as well as he had prepared me, there was the burning that goes along with the stretching of those muscles. But after a minute, it had lessened to an ache that I found incredibly pleasurable.
"Move, Luke," I said, writhing against him. He leaned down, his arms beside my shoulders, and framed my face with his hands, kissing me senseless as he rocked his hips, sliding inside me both gently and deeply. He moved one arm, and before I knew it, I felt his hand circling me and jerking me off in time to his thrusts.
It occurred to me that he was so focused on my pleasure, and me on his, that we were a perfect match. He was so caring, so gentle, and yet so powerful, and I felt safe, and cared for, and able to enjoy what I was feeling. The sounds of sex mixed with our heavy breathing and moaning already had me turned on, along with the feel of his muscular arms and back under my hands, but his ministrations on my cock and this newly-realized comfort with him sent me over the edge, especially as he changed the angle of his thrusting to glide his dick over my prostate with every move he made.
"Come for me, baby," he said between kisses.
"I'm already there," I smiled, then kissed him as I felt the waves of my orgasm overtake me. I felt him convulse as he moaned into my mouth just seconds later, his eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.
When we finally both unwound, he rested his weight on top of me, and my arms circled around him to rub his back slowly.
"You are so beautiful, Steven," he said, looking at me groggily.
I kissed him gently in reply, squeezing him even more into me, greedy for all the contact with his body as he lay atop me.
"Thank you," I said. "That was—you are—amazing," I said a bit later, just looking into his eyes. He rolled to his side, and we lay facing one another, the tenderness I felt for him bubbling its way up and making my stomach flip.
"I love you, Steven," he said simply, quietly, and sincerely, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer, his eye contact never breaking. He must have seen my surprise and the fact that I was at a loss for words, because he went on. "You are everything I've been looking for, and I love every moment I spend with you, but this, tonight, this just sealed the deal for me. I—this—" He was clearly struggling, so I intervened, my soul soaring by his effort at expressing his emotions and making himself vulnerable.
"I love you, too, Luke. You don't have to explain, even though I appreciate you bearing all for me. I was just surprised, is all."
I kissed him and he pulled me even closer, my head buried in the crook of his neck. His smell, which had become comforting to me over the past months, was the last thing I noticed before I dozed off.