Holding On

Eleven

There was something about the sounds of the shower running that always woke me up no matter how deep of a sleep I may have been in. Dante gets up bright and early to shower every morning before work and without a doubt wakes me up briefly. Usually I just roll over and eventually fall back asleep, but today I woke up feeling extra sweaty.

I push back the plush covers and tread into the bathroom slowly undressing along the way. Leaving my clothes in a trail behind me I enter the bathroom quietly. I'm met with a wall of steam as I close the door slowly.

"Amelia?" His voice drifts through the foggy bathroom like velvet. I smile knowingly, and step up to the foggy glass of the shower door. It opens before I can reach for it and Dante is smiling wickedly.

"Did you think it was someone else?" I question taking a step inside so he is forced to step back. "Of course, I thought it was my 6am hookup." He teases. My eyes trace his body like he's made of gold and I'm a miner. Every line of muscle is sculpted so beautifully I almost want to take a picture to save for later.

Remind myself to do that one day.

"You're out of luck, she called out sick. I thought I'd step in for her" I say. He reaches forward to bring our naked bodies together and I can't help but let out a gasp at the contact. "You're the only hookup I'll ever need, baby." He whispers into my hair. His back shields us from the stream of the shower and I take that opportunity to reach for the soap next to his shoulder.

"You look a little dirty, are you sure you cleaned in all the right places?" My mouth turning up into a smirk as I squeeze out the liquid soap into my hand. "No I definitely did not and I definitely need your help please"He teases, I take a step back before running my hands along his body slowly working the soap into his smooth tan skin.

There was a time I thought I'd never be comfortable enough to stand confidently naked in front of a mirror, never mind in front of another human. Dante has taught me without words or intention on how to love myself to another level. I know if I told him that he'd scold me and tell me that it was me who did all the teaching. That I taught myself to be confident, brave, and loved. But I can't help but admit a huge part of the confidence I have now is because he looks at me like I'm the only person to ever exist. Like he's scared I'll disappear and he's soaking up all the pieces of me that he can.

It's an indescribable feeling.

"Where'd you go," his hands found my face and spread across my cheeks. "Nowhere, I'm right here, always." I smile into his lips. It quickly turns frantic and before I know it his body is pressed against my own again, this time against the damp wall.

"Good, right where I need you. Always." He says between breaths. His hands roam my naked body, now wet with the water that has become a distant thought. All I can think about is how he makes me feel, how each touch makes my heart race.

I use my own hands to continue washing small circles onto his back all while my mouth stays pressed to his in a scorching kiss. I never want this moment to end. I never want any of our moments to end.

I feel a nudge between my legs before he forces my own apart. When his naked thigh makes contact with my naked core I gasp into his mouth and grip his shoulders. I break his kiss and lean my head back against the tile, watching his hands lazily make their way down my body. Stopping at each breast, caressing them. I tense, feeling electric as he takes my nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck," I breath out. My hands find his hair in a grip just needing something to hold. "Don't you have to leave soon." I manage to get out in between my moans of pleasure, knowing he keeps a strict schedule in the morning. His tongue moves from one nipple to the next, taking care of each like his life depended on it.