His Angel

Chapter Forty-One

"Harmony-" he whispered her name against her lips, taking in lungs of her breath "Will you let me kiss you?" He dropped his hand from her neck, reaching out for her shaking hand on her lap, lifting to his lips as she watched, wide-eyed as he kissed the carves of her palm. She couldn't believe what she was watching, him being so gentle with her, his eyes wide with intensity. He didn't have to speak his desires, he only had to stare at her with those eyes and she knew just how deeply he was begging, pleading for her. How badly he wanted to touch her. Her hand, it shook in his hold, but her eyes no longer wept.

She glanced down at his lips, the small freckles on the upper lip, it was endearing. She had never noticed those freckles before, nor the light ones on the bridge across his nose, just under the shadow of his eyes. There was a scar, like a slash, going right through his right eyebrow, a small white line almost naked to the eye, but she could see it. 

She could see him. 

She let her hand stray from his grip, but rather than letting it fall, she held it up, leaning closer. She pressed her thumb on his lower lip, feeling the hot breath falling from his nostrils with every deep breath he took. His lip was soft against the gentle press of her thumb-pad, and she loved it. So much of him was hard and calloused, but not the lips. She found herself leaning forward just slightly, letting her hand fall away from his face. His nose, it bumped against hers, and his bright blue eyes overtook everything she could glimpse. She pressed her upper lip against his, just the lightest brush, it tickles. That thought, caused the form of a small smile against his lip, one he felt, and felt his own surface, which she felt in return.

"Just-" she whispered, their lips sliding from the movement "J-just one" she leaned forward, pressing her lips entirely against his. It was only supposed to be one, a single kiss, but that wasn't enough for her, and it certainly wasn't enough for him. He gripped her cheeks in his hands, crushing her lips against his. She was glorious, and her taste, it overtook his every sense, like a high. He wanted to brighten the lights in the room, see every freckle, every beauty spot, the small ridges of bumps across her arms, but he wouldn't ever let this chance pass him by, he didn't know how long it was going to last.

He leaned her back, falling against the couch below them. He held himself over her, pressing his tongue between her lips. She was inexperienced, he could tell with the way she hesitated, the way they moved out of sync before he guided them back, but he didn't care. He grabbed her hip, pressing his groin against hers, listening to the small gasps that fell from her lips, swallowing them like water. Her arms slid across his bare back, like a feather swipe, grabbing hold of his neck and a fist of his dark hair. Her hold was tight, and the pain was invigorating. He breathed against her lips, pulling her legs up against his sides, squeezing her gentle skin. But, as he ran his hand across her thigh, he could feel the slight crevices marked within her body, although invisible to the naked eye, she had scars, shallow crater scars that ran up her sides, across her hips, like small patches of roughness within the delicacy that was her bare flesh.

Why?

He wanted to ask, but he didn't. He didn't want to tear their lips apart for something so petty, something he cared so little about. Scars or not, she was perfect. She fit against him like he always imagined she would, letting him take the lead, and guide her through the motions of intimacy she knew so little about. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, fast and hard. He leaned to the side, just slightly, turning her hips to stay with his own, he held the edge of her waist, dragging his fingers while forcing her head up, giving him access to the hot skin of her neck. Her pulse raced as he sucked, feeling when she slapped a hand around his shoulder, tight, like a movement fuelled by fear. And she was afraid, but not of him, it was fear of what he was doing to her.