Chapter 90

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David's palpitations didn't stopped. And he was still breathing hard. So it was several seconds later that he eased off her, unfolding her legs, which were wrapped around his back, to unlock him from her, letting her legs collapse so that she lay sprawled on the bed, her chest rising and falling. Their sweat slicked bodies came back to reality slowly.

As she surfaced several minutes later, Ella looked at him and smiled like a well-fed cat. And found him facing her, grinned. Their smiles grew.

"You know that I want you in my life." He murmured as he reached for her and pulled her close. "And I want to share your life."

She felt boneless. "Me too." Sighed in ecstasy. The last hour was amazing. Obviously it takes an emotional, mental connection to have a great physical, sexual relationship. And it take trust to have that bond. "But we need to take our time to sort it all, ok?"

David would have laughed, if he wasn't still out of breath. It confirmed he knew her. That she would need time to process the last hour. But he was going to point out the obviously. "We belonged to each other. We knew that ten years ago." He reminded her, pressed a kiss against her temple, "Nothing has changed. You know that. I told you, I told your date. You love me. And I love you."

"Yes. I remember that. But you haven't told me!" She tipped her head back so that she could look at him.

"I love you!" He looked at her, his love inscribed in his eyes.

She gulped when she saw the dedication in his gaze. She licked her lips, and took the chance to confront him, "How can you think I love you but would sleep with another man?" She whispered.

He pulled her closer, wrapped his arms around her. "Because you fry my brain." He replied quietly and held on tightly.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. Surely he hadn't recovered from their love bout.

"You have something that belongs to me."

She snorted. "You came all this way to collect your t-shirt?" She rolled away from him, "I left you a note! I was coming back." She reached for the edge of the duvet and was going to step out, when his arm caught her shoulder and spun her around, and she ended up back on the bed.

"No." He planted both hands against the mattress and leaned in, she inched back, didn't get far. "Why did you do it?"

"My dress was torn, I ..."

"Not the tshirt. Why did you have sex with a drunk? Me." He asked softly. She shoved both hands against his chest, trying to push him away, he didn't budge. "Most women want romance, and memorable."

"It was." She retorted.

"You opt for a drunk with little finesse, limited skill, and heaps of angst? Why?"

She faced him. "If you think that, in that case, for a drunk you have amazing skills!" She rolled her eyes. "And you weren't really drunk! Just tipsy!" She shrugged, "What difference does it make?" What she remembered was how tender and sensitive when he made love with her. For a tipsy man, he was fully aware of his actions, and he was determined to ensure that his sexual partner enjoyed the encountered.

"A lot. Why then?"

"You were available." He backed off, narrowed his eyes and was about to challenge her, when she said softly, "You were amazing. Tender, gentle and full of passion." David blinked at her comments, the compliments. His gaze roamed over her. She remained lying on her back, folded her arms across her chest and asked him, "Are we done now, with this appraisal?"

He snorted.

Obviously she was not going to review that episode. "Not by a long way." He told her softly.

She grinned in anticipation, unfolded her arms, laced them behind his neck and kissed him.

She kissed him like her life depended on it. Her lips teasing, coaxing, tasting. Her tongue playing, darting, probing, licking. Her legs splayed on either side of his hips, his hardness nestled between her thighs. Her hands framed his face as she angled first one way and then another, desperately trying to deepen the kiss. Her fingers grabbed fistfuls of hair as she deepened the kiss, he retaliated by gently nipping on her lips. He tried not to take over the kiss as her breasts pressed into his chest. The friction had her mewling as her sensitive nipples brushed against the hair on his chest. He tried, he really tried to leave her in control of the kiss. But it didn't last long. Control of the kiss changed.

Then he got off the bed, and rolled her gently onto her stomach. She was too tired to protest, too delirious to do anything more than mumble in confusion. David reached past her head, dragged a pillow toward him, doubled it up then pushed it beneath her hips.

"Trust me." He told her when she turned her head to ask a question. She mumbled but lay with her hips raised, her head buried in the mattress. He started by kissing her feet, light fleeting kisses, that brushed and tickled. Then he nuzzled her ankles, and kissed his way up her calves. He spent several minutes kissing the backs of her knees, lightly sucking, nipping, stroking. Ella understood why cats purred in contentment, she fought hard not to sound like a cat. Slowly he inched his way up her legs, kissing the backs of her legs then the sides, working his way to her hips. He planted a kiss in the small of her back before making slow progress along her backbone. Ella was sure she had melted. Melted and she had definitely gone to heaven. He lifted her hair and kissed her behind her ears, then nibbled on her ear lobe. He couldn't help the smile when he felt her tremor.

"Recovered?" He asked.

"Hmm?"

"Ready for more?" She heard the smile in his voice, heard the challenge.

"Yes." She muttered lethargically and heard as much as felt him chuckle. He kissed his way back down her body. 

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