Lean On Me #Wattys2016

Part 20

Ashlyn

There is a lot of ugliness in this world, but a scar received while fighting for your country could never be one of them. Mateo's physical therapy is going well, but his mindset isn't healing as quickly. It breaks my heart, but I won't let him push me away or use it as an excuse to keep his distance. The scratch of his beard is on my cheek right before he kisses me. I open my eyes and find his staring back at me.

His hand reaches out and cups my cheek, his thumb rubbing tenderly in a circle. His lips are back on mine, determined and with renewed purpose. He shifts his weight completely off his bad leg and I realize standing the way we are after a long day of working on building his strength might be painful. "Couch?" I ask between kisses.

His hands find their way to my hips; his lips never leaving mine. He tugs me forward as he backs up to the couch behind him. My hands are in his hair and his hands are sliding up my body, touching every inch. He drags his fingers across my breasts, over my shoulders and down my back. I let mine wander too. I feel the smooth skin over his pecs and down his stomach. I don't let the boxers get in my way, pulling them down again just enough to release him.

"Sit down," I say and direct him with my hands flat on his chest until he begins to lean back. He has to let me go so he can use his upper body strength to sit down and stretch his injured leg. He smiles up at me and opens his arms inviting me to join him. I move closer, but I don't sit. I lean forward and kiss his lips, loving how quickly his hand is tangled in my hair, pulling me closer and lifting his face to mine like he can't get close enough.

His hand is hot where it touches the inside of my knee. My heart rate soars again. This man has the power to light my fire with one little touch. He lightly grazes my skin with his touch, inching up at a pace so slow I'm desperate to feel him at my core. I rest my hands on his knees because I worry my own will give out the second his fingers find my sensitive area. I'm not wrong. His fingers slip along my center, the first pass being so light that I can barely feel him and yet it's enough to wake up the nerves and send them into a crazy flurry of tingling sensations that race to climb up my spine.

His fingertips slip between the swollen flesh, coaxing the bundle of nerves into responding with a shudder and throbbing pulse. My eyes close against the pleasure and I drag in a strained breath. He traces the tip of his nose along my cheek, his beard scratching at my flushed skin until I turn into him, too desperate for his mouth to wait for his to come find mine.

Mateo parts his lips and my tongue dips inside, meeting his and pressing in further to show him just how crazy with lust he makes me. His response is perfect, his tongue taking the lead and pushing into mine showing me with each touch what he wants to do to my body. His fingers slip inside. First it's just one slowly sliding in until I can feel his palm against me, but he never stops. He pulls back, dragging along every nerve inside until he can slide another finger in again. I have to remind myself not to dig my nails into his skin at his knees.

It's a slow torture that I never want to stop. He's playing me so perfectly I might never survive it. My heart is pounding, my pulse thumping in my veins, rushing my blood to the parts of my body that are now aching with the need to find a release. Only now that I've felt his hands on me I know that the need isn't just for any release, I want a release brought on by his touch.

His free hand grabs my ass and then moves down, rubbing the backside of my thigh before guiding my movement to part my legs wider. When he has me positioned how he wants, he holds the side of my face and sucks on my lower lip until it's released with a satisfying pop. "Hold on, sunshine," he warns, his fingers in my hair tightening until I can feel the pull at my scalp. It's not much of a warning and I don't have time to react, but I don't care—I'm thankful even. He's going to finish what he started and it can't happen soon enough.

His lips touch mine with dominance, guiding my mouth open and then joining our tongues. It's hot and exciting, mindless pleasure that makes my knees grow even weaker. His fingers between my legs quicken their movement, sliding in and out along the bundle of nerves until I can't think of anything but letting go. Even though the pleasure takes over and the euphoria drugs my system, he doesn't relent. He leads my mouth through the choppy movements as I reach my peak and then finally when it hits I moan into him, my own release heighten when his low groan answers sending wave after wave of bliss through by body. 

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