We fall back to the sheets, completely out of breath. That makes about four times total so far. I feel slightly sweaty in his sheets, it's been a lot of physical activity. Somehow Marshall doesn't seem to be as worn out as I am. He lays beside me, breathing and gazing at me with his big blue eyes.
"Are you tired?" He asks me, turning on his side.
"Of you?" I joke, making him laugh. "Never."
He flicks his eyebrows and moves closer to me, biting his lower lip and smiling. He turns and I feel his hand rest on my side, gently rubbing up and down my ribs.
"You better not be." He laughs again. "I can and fully intend to go all night."
I smile and turn into his chest, kissing him generously on the lips. I rest my hand on his cheek and pull him against me harder. His arm wraps around me, closing the distance between us.
"God I love you so much." I say through our kisses, tangling his hair in my hand.
He wedges his legs between mine and rolls me onto my back. I separate for a second and see that his shoulders are red. I place my hand on the area and he grunts lightly in what I assume is pain.
"Hey, wait." I say, and he looks at me confused.
"What?" He asks, an undertone of concern in his voice. "Too much?"
"No, just..." I look at the redness again and feel a twinge in my heart. "Sit up."
"Are you okay baby?" He asks me, slowly moving off me.
"I'm fine I just want to look at your back." I admit reluctantly, knowing he'll oppose it.
"Rach-"
I shoot him a look and he knows it is not up for debate. He reaches over the side of the bed and hands me his t shirt. I watch him stand and pull on his boxers. His back muscles contract as he does it and the redness shows in the faint light coming from the window. He sits back down, facing away from me and I lean over to the nightstand to turn on the lamp. Now in the brighter light I can see his faint bruising looks irritated.
"Do they still hurt?" I ask him quietly, sorting out ways to make him feel better.
"Barely." He answers, turning his head to the side to look at me. "You should be a nurse, you're always examining me."
"You're always getting hurt." I say back, moving closer to him. "What did the doctor say would help again?"
"We've been doing what he said for the past couple hours." He laughs.
"Please don't joke." I say in a serious way, feeling myself get sad. "It matters to me."
He senses my tone of voice right away and turns around. I feel my eyes get sore with tears and he tilts his head to the side, knitting his brows. He reaches out for my hand and pulls me against his chest.
"None of that Rach." He says gently. "Tonight's about us, not some bruises."
"I know." I nod. "You know how I am."
He kisses me once on the cheek and laces our hands together. I look down at them, more to study his knuckles. He has some faint white scaring that will probably never go away, but other than that they look good. I pull my hand from his and turn his palm up. His tattooed forearm seems to look up at me and I run my fingers across the ink.
