Truth of the Matter

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I lifted my hips to him as I felt his mouth descend around me. As he lifted his mouth back up before bringing it back down again, the cold air mixed with the warm wetness of his mouth and it made me gasp. Mykel's arms were wrapped around my thighs to keep me from moving too much in my passion, lest I make things difficult by making him lose hold. I loved the feel of his mouth against and around me and the moaning of his name as I gripped my hands tightly in his hair told him how much. "Mykel, please," I panted, "please."

His lips were on mine in an instant muddling the sounds emanating from me as he slowly pushed his way inside me. He took his time, drawing out the lascivious torture. His teeth found my earlobe, nibbling and sucking, moaning his pleasure next to me.

"God, Mattie. I love you so much." His breathing started becoming erratic, short gasping breaths as he drew us both closer to falling off that cliff.

"I love you, too. Baby, mmm, so much. Fuck Mykel, don't stop." And he didn't. Our moans mixed together as our bodies picked up speed. I clawed at his back and the grip he had on my shoulders was bruising; and when we came we came together, panting, sweat gathered between us, his body went limp above me.

Two months had passed since the day I encountered my sister for the first time in years. During the last months, I felt a wedge between Mykel and me that I couldn't put my finger on and, with as much as it worried my conscious and by extension subconscious mind, we always seemed to find each other in sex. As I laid in his arms, the tendrils of the afterglow fading, these thoughts began to creep to the forefront of my mind, and I buried myself further into him. I hadn't mentioned my sister or what I did afterward since Mykel and I talked about it that day we sat in the tall grass together. There had been times where I wanted to talk about it, there had been times I had begun to talk about it...but not able to face my own cowardice and the look in his eyes, I kept silent.

I lay there next to him, our breathing finally returning to normal, with my arms wrapped securely around his chest, my head resting against his shoulder, close enough to his heart I could hear it beating. The thump thump thump both calmed me and swirled my thoughts, and I had no clue how to process what was going through my head.

I concentrated on the feeling of Mykel's fingers as they glided through my hair, how his touch made me feel a plethora of emotions that I couldn't all define. Mykel sighed deeply, slowly allowing the breath to escape through his parted lips. I did not have to look at him to know his eyes were closed.

I curled further into him, trying to, what seemed at the time, vainly anchor myself to his body. Sow my soul onto his so he could never leave me. "I love you," I told him, my chest tight, my eyes squeezed shut against any bubbling emotions. I had to hold back. I couldn't allow the moment to be sullied by insecurities. The day had been most pleasant and one we had spent together. I thought over the day, trying to stop my brain from picking apart every stray look he sent me, the analysis of every sad smile, any small hesitation toward touching me as if I would shatter like porcelain if he didn't show the utmost care. It hadn't been a bad day. One where we had enjoyed being curled up on the couch watching movies, or relaxing on the back porch. We even laughed freely, as if nothing in the wide world could touch us. Though there were small moments when he thought I wasn't looking that he would catch this haunted expression in his eyes. His hands would subtly traverse where the faded cuts had been, nothing more now than a memory stamped in time against my skin. No evidence of it remained; though in those moments of faux pas solidarity when I knew his mind went there, they were as evident as they were fresh.

He never spoke of it when it was on his mind in some sense of protection to me, not wanting to remind me of that time or remind himself in conversation what was really on his mind. "I love you, too, mon bonheur." I heard the smile in his voice and it made my heart break the smallest fraction more. I cursed myself for not being able to control myself, my emotions, my thoughts. The evidence of such was tickling the brims of my eyes and I shifted so he wouldn't notice. But damn if he did anyway. I should have known that he was too in tune with my body language to not be ignorant of any state of mind I might possess at any given moment. Sometimes it's right frustrating, even now. "Hey," he turned to his side so he was facing me, "what's wrong?" His thumb traced down my cheek coming away wet. He swiped his thumb across his palm to dispel the moister with a look of worry covering his features. His honey-wheat eyes were dark in the lack of light, casting a molasses-like glow from the moonlight. I shook my head in denial and turned into his arm, still hoping to gather myself before I lost it.

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