Those Sweet Words
End of the day
The hour hand has spun
Before the night is done
I just have to hear
Those sweet words
Spoken like a melody
- Norah Jones, "Those Sweet Words"
Did that really happen?
I stare at the ceiling, heart still pounding a bit too fast, breath still coming in gasps a bit too sharp. It definitely happened. I can still feel it, can still feel him inside, even though he's now laying beside me, staring up at the same ceiling, breathing the same heavy gasps.
It hurt. Lord, had it hurt. Lubed or not, his finger pressing into me was fucking painful. The second digit hurt even more. Then he'd rolled a condom over his dick, and tried thrusting into me. I thought I was going to pass out from the pure, unadulterated agony
of it. He stopped then, using more lube, and tried again. Much slower. And it still hurt enough to leave tears in my eyes, though I no longer worried about losing consciousness.
But then he was inside me, and after a moment, the pain dulled. I started to notice the way his chest felt pressed against mine. I started to notice the tickle of his breath on my neck and how it made me shiver. I started to notice the heat--the incredible, unbearable, wonderful heat that was searing through me, building around the place where he was buried inside me, stretching me, filling me, burning me alive.
And suddenly the pain wasn't so bad. Suddenly the heat and the shivering and the feel of his skin against mine were more important than any pain.
Until he started to move, too hard, too soon, and the pain returned. But a few moments later, when he got it right, when he slowed down, giving me time to adjust, it was better. Then when I got it right, relaxing around him, enjoying the feel of him, it was much better. And when we both got it right, when he moved gently, squeezing my hips, and when I clenched lightly around him, arching up to meet him...then it was better than anything else I'd ever experienced.
At least until he came. Until I felt him shudder, thrusting deeper inside me, gasping my name breathlessly against my ear. Knowing I could make him feel like that...it was the best thing ever, definitely.
Or so I thought.
Until his hand slid over from my hip. Until his long fingers curled around my cock. Until he squeezed me, stroking over my shaft slowly. Until he whispered in my ear, begging me to come for him.
And I did, and I think it may have blown away all of my previous notions of what the best thing ever could be, but I'm not quite sure, because my mind was a jumble of colors and light and senseless thoughts, some in English, some in Czech, and a few in a language I haven't yet learned.
I don't fully remember him pulling out, just a vague sense of loss, coupled with a hint of relief. The pain was still there, a throbbing ache, all but completely lost in the magic of everything else. But I can feel him now, shifting around, standing up and walking into
the bathroom. The light goes on, the water runs for a moment before being shut off, and then he comes back, leaving the light on.
I want to move, to cover myself, but I can't quite get my body to cooperate. I know that the light is shining on me, making my skin glow the way that his is glowing, and it makes me want to hide. But I can't get my arms to pull the sheet over, and my legs don't want
to help me roll to my side. So instead I stare at him. At the long lines of his legs, at the sculpted width of his shoulders, at the trail of light brown hair that traces from his navel southward.
He is so fucking beautiful.
He sits next to me on the bed, and with a cool, wet washcloth, he wipes over my stomach, my chest, my hips, down along my thighs, up between my legs, with such care that it makes my insides knot up. I shiver, partially from the chill of the air on my damp skin,
but mostly from the intensity of the look in his eyes.
"Rostislav," he whispers, his voice weak, a bit hoarse, "are you okay?"
I nod slowly, not trusting myself to speak just yet, and smile faintly. He sets the washcloth aside and lies down next to me, tension radiating from him. "Are
you sure?" he asks, wiping at a tear that was slowly trailing from the corner of my eye down to my temple, a tear I hadn't even realized was still there. Or maybe it's fresh, I'm not really sure. "You're crying..."
I glance at him, surprised. I am crying. I don't really know when I started crying, but sure enough, my vision's blurred and there are tears streaming down my cheeks. I laugh softly, and my body finally responds to my brain and lets me turn onto my side, facing him.
"Sorry," I murmur, my voice breaking a bit, "I'm fine...really. This is all just so intense."
His lips curl into a weak smile, and his arm slips around me. "I know what you mean," he replies, "It isn't every day you lose your virginity."
And he does know. This was his first time too.
"Does it hurt?"
I hate to answer him, because I know he'll overreact, but I can't lie. "Not so badly now..." I start, but he interrupts me before I can say any more.
"Oh God, Rusty, did I hurt you?" he says, voice louder, a bit hysterical.
I hold a finger to his lips, "Shh. It did hurt at first. Still does, but only a little. And besides," I add softly, blushing, "it was really, really good, Rick."
His smile returns, and he kisses my forehead, "It was. Better than I ever imagined." And then he whispers, "I'm glad it was you."
I rest my head on his chest, his heart still beating fast, echoing in my ear, and I hug him tightly. "I wouldn't have wanted it to be anyone else." Which is the truth. I've never loved anyone like I love Rick. Beyond all the pain, the heat, the intensity, there was trust. I trust him more than anyone in the world.
He tilts my chin up, and kisses me softly. Feather light, just a brush of his lips over mine, but it sends a shiver through me, down my spine all the way to the tips of my fingers. "I love you," he murmurs against my mouth.
And then it's decided. It isn't the sex or the orgasm or the passion. All of those things are wonderful in their own ways; but they aren't what's most important. It's the way he loves me, hearing him whisper those three tiny words...
That is the greatest thing ever.
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