“Yes. It was in my office.”
“The first time, in a bed,” he clarified.
“That was at your apartment.” Those first weeks were etched in my brain as they were so magical. Much like our life together since I was given a clean bill of health.
“It was the first time we were fully naked, remember?”
I hadn’t thought of that, but he was right. When we’d had sex at work, our clothes were still somewhat on.
“I’d been dying to see your body,” he said, running his hand down my belly to the nest of curls between my thighs.
“Had you?” I arched, wanting his fingers to touch my clit. It was aching and throbbing already. “Were you happy with what you saw?”
“Very.” His lips trailed along my collarbone, and down between my breasts.
The
biggest challenge we’d had after my mastectomy, not counting the news the cancer wasn’t gone the first time, was the loss of breast sensitivity. I’d cried the first time we made love after the surgery and didn’t feel arousal when he touched them.
Ever since then, he usually ignored them.
“Don’t you like them?” I’d once asked him.
“Sure, but what I like most is to make you happy. If my touching them doesn’t make you wet, I won’t touch them. Especially if it actually makes you upset.”
It was a reminder at what a wonderful man he was that he could forgo his instinct to touch my breasts.
On his birthday, I encouraged him to fuck them, knowing it was a fantasy of his. He’d been reluctant, but like he wanted to make sure I was happy in bed, I wanted to make him happy too. While I didn’t feel him on my breasts, I was turned on by watching his dick slide between them, so it was a win-win.
This time he bypassed my breasts as he strew kisses down my belly.
“Your body was made for me. Did you know? You were destined to be mine.”
I laughed. God he could say the most wonderful things that made me feel like the center of the universe. “I wonder if it’s the other way around. You were made for me.”
He lifted his head. “Made for each other.”
“Yes.”
He continued to look up at me. “Are you happy, Terra?”
I couldn’t imagine why he was asking. It had to be obvious. “I’m so happy. The happiest.”
He leaned down and kissed my belly again. “Good. Can I make you happier?”
“You can make me come, which would make me happy. But in life in general, I’m already exceedingly happy.”
He pushed my legs open, bending them at the knee and forcing them wider, opening me to him. He brushed kisses along my inner thigh, making me quiver.
“Are you happy, Brayden?”
He lifted his head again. “I couldn’t be happier. You’re everything.”
I reached down and pressed my hand to his cheek. “I love you.”
He grinned. “My heart does cartwheels every time you say that.”
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”