Yearning.
Rated M.

1.

She's trembling and silent in a way that makes her appear terrified.

She is terrified. She is, but she also wants this. She has wanted it for months. More than months. She's been craving his touch ever since...well, ever since the last time he touched her.

So why is she so terrified?

Her body has been here before. Her heart has been here before too.

What if we're not a good fit anymore? She wonders. Does he know how much this will mean to me? They only just kissed yet her thoughts are caught up between the bedsheets. Like a lover's hands. She inhales sharply.

His eyes are darker than dark, full of surprise and wonder and lust. She can't believe what she's seeing, but she's seen it before. She remembers it all.

2.

They slam into one another. It's a crashing wave, a violin crescendo, pieces of a broken mug careening across the floor. It's as messy as a scrawled signature, urgent as an appointment. His jacket is rough and scratchy under her hands.

That jacket will be the first thing to go.

His kiss is as rough and eager as the first time. It's laced with the same wanting. The culmination of a yearning that hurt.

His tongue is in her mouth, and oh, how she has missed this.

They kiss one another all the way back to her empty room, and they're breathless with want. They look at one another for a moment. Everything is laid bare. It's happening.

They're gravitating now. Her back hits the wall and they're falling.

He's lifting up her shirt, his hands desperate to find skin. He takes in a sharp intake of breath and she feels him groan into the kiss. Her heart dances in anticipation. He's wanted this too. Wanted her.

His fingers and palms greedily take in her curves. He's been here before, and it was magical every time. It's magical now. That soft dip where her ribs end and her waist begins. He's hard already. She can feel him pressing into her and it's her turn to groan. It flutters out of her and he pushes against her harder.

His hands journey upwards and slip into her bra. She arches her back in pleasure as his thumb and finger find her nipple. It's a friction burn, a red-hot ripple, a pulsing throb of lust that courses through her every atom. She feels warm and shaky. She can't take it. She wants to feel everything.

He's almost finished undressing her. He's still basically fully dressed and she looks at the straining in his pants and it's suddenly not fair. She gasps and scrambles for the buckle. She wants to feel him against her. She tears at the buttons on his shirt. His expression switches from amusement to lust in a heartbeat.

And then they are both naked and they need to take a second to take each other in. They've been here before. Their bodies have been through this. It's a re-enactment. It's muscle memory. Yet it's not. It's new and exciting and different because of that yearning. That longing that soaked up her summer. And it's so much more than skin. It's time, and it's harmony, and it's love, and all of a sudden she feels like crying. Because the best thing has happened. The very best thing.

And then he is on her again and she feels his whole body press up against hers and it is electric.

She doesn't feel terrified anymore, though she trembles still.

3.

His fingers are circling, circling. She's crying out now. Her legs are shaking. He keeps bringing her back to his eyes. His eyes: deep brown, glossy, like liquid chocolate. He's pinning her hands down. She knows what this means. He wants her to come first. But she doesn't want to come yet. She wants him to be inside her when she comes.

She pushes herself up and their foreheads bump. He looks in awe of her. She catches his bottom lip with her teeth and then dips down.

She fills her mouth with him.

He chokes out a gulp of air, tightens his hands into fists. Her mouth is warm.

She goes as deep as she physically can, wanting to taste all of him, wanting to fit as much of him into her as she can. She licks as she sucks. He watches as her mouth grows wetter and wetter. She's taking it too far too early. Some part of him had chosen to forget how good she was at this.

He makes a sound like a growl and before she knows it she's on her back again. He's everywhere. His hands are in her hair, at her shoulders, tender at her hips, rough on her ass.

Her lips are rosy. Her glasses are crooked. She takes them off and puts them aside. He looks at her and thinks, how could I have been so stupid? How could I have ever let her go?

4.

He's positioning himself now and her entire body is shaking in anticipation.

He pauses before entering. She is wet, wet, and understandably tight. He takes it slow. He takes it agonisingly slow. She's warm and wet all over and she's making the hottest sounds he's ever heard. When he's inside her, he continues to take it slow. She shakes her head. She needs it fast. It needs to be a crashing wave, a forest fire, a culmination.

She digs her fingernails into his hips. He gets the message, and he is merciless.

He fucks hard and fast and his fingers find her again. She's taken there immediately. She throws her arms across her face and whines. She kicks her heels against the floor in pleasure. Her body stiffens and relaxes as the pleasure rolls over her. Red-hot and trembling. She doesn't want it to end.

When she comes, she unravels.

5.

She immediately pushes him back. Her body is still reeling. She clumsily climbs on top of him. His jaw is slack. His eyes scan her body before travelling back to her eyes. She eases herself down on him. She feels herself grow hot again.

She steadies herself, tenses her thighs, rolls her hips. It's everything. It's the most pleasurable thing she's possibly ever felt.

He releases a breath, grabs her by the hips. He supports her, he starts pounding faster. He's almost there. She can tell. She moves fast, throws her head back.

He watches her ride him. Her hair tumbles down her back in thick, dark waves.

"You're beautiful," He is saying it without meaning to. Her eyes find his again. She's surprised, bashful even. Her cheeks flush pinker than pink. He makes a pained groan. Why doesn't she know this, you idiot?

He sits up, grabs her roughly by the shoulders. He kisses her gently as he starts fucking her hard. Too much too fast. She's filled up; he goes deep, and she knows he's there. He buries his head in her shoulder as he comes. It shudders out of him like a gasp.

6.

She lies down on top of him now, her hair pooling on his chest. She lets out a sound that's part post-orgasm elation, part relief that this has actually, finally, eventually happened.

She tilts her head, and blue eyes meet brown. She smiles like she's discovered a secret, and they both start giggling. It's hard to stop.

"Why are we laughing?" He manages eventually. His voice is low, like he just woke up. She imagines a million mornings waking up next to him and her heart flips in her chest.

"I just-" She starts, sitting up, "I always thought you'd come back one day, and now you're here."

He blinks, and now he's the one who's surprised.

"You've always been my almost, my never, and my someday," She's talking fast, "I'm just so happy that someday has happened. I've wanted this so much. You have no idea."

"Oh, I have some idea," He replies. He's looking at her like she's made of magic.

"If I go grab a blanket, can we stay here until the sun comes up?" She murmurs.

Yes. Yes. Always. Every day. I will always come back for you.