There is something about the look in his eyes, you think as you gaze at him asleep.
You admire his somewhat tousled hair, his relaxed countenance in sleep. He shouldn't look so good. You are tempted to touch him, but he would be up soon. Remembering you wanted to surprise him with a decent breakfast, you crawl out from under the covers, securing a warm pillow next to him before getting on the move.
Since you both said the words, things had changed. It was as if he had hidden something absolutely wonderful from you and revealed it at an unexpected time. It was as if you thought you were dreaming and instead of pinching you, he kissed you to let you know you weren't. You didn't realize it until now but you had some strips of armor left, you more than him it seemed, and now there was...less...and you didn't feel the cold of vulnerability but the warmth of his gaze to hold you. You tell yourself it can't be like this, but it is.
It is Monday, and you were supposed to be at your place, but Henry had persuaded you to stay, and since you had some clothes here, and Luna had the benefits of split custody without the split, she had everything she needed, too. Seeing you get out of bed, she got up to make the climb up to awaken him.
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"Luna!" You whisper sternly. She looks at you. "Don't...don't...wake him, don't wake Daddy!" She sat between his legs as if waiting for you to leave. "Oh, no you don't!" You remember that she once jumped from that spot directly onto his back once. You scoop her up. "Breakfast, little butt."
After giving Luna a small saucer of kitten milk to start, you begin making a pre-workout breakfast smoothie, and your mind's eye opens before you:
"Henry!" You cried out, his name becoming a prayer on your lips. You honestly don't know what had gotten into him. He seemed insatiable, and you realized: the shot is working, and no barriers for another month and a half.
He was passionate, seeming to know how fast, how hard, how deep, and he set off waves of constant tremors of pleasure in you. Your body was his, craving everything he offered, clinging to him, needing him. And he deepened his claim on you with every kiss, every touch, every stroke, every thrust. You felt his firm yet gentle grip tighten every time you raked his back, saw his eyes spark or roll back every time your body instinctively cradled his when you raised your knees offering more of yourself as he moves in and out of you. He hit that spot and you screamed with every thrust, waves coming back to back, holding onto consciousness by a thread, your head swimming and body holding onto his as an anchor.
"Uhhnnn...I'm coming..." His voice was ragged as his hold became like a vice, his head falling back as his hips bucked hard. "I'm coming..."
Your cries and moans mingled with every climax, you arched and trembled, clung and panted together, riding out waves between you, and then finally you curled together sated.
You'd barely slept Friday or Saturday nights, you remember as you turn on the blender, except for naps on the couch with him lying behind you watching TV or when he had script study and gaming times. He did come to check on you from time to time, peeking over your shoulder to see what you were doing. You were behind on your online stories, and you simply said you'd been traveling and that you landed a job that got kept you busy.
