Chapter Text
Juliette is half-way stretched out over my body, her head is tucked into my shoulder. She glows, her skin almost luminescent, which can be a symptom of vigorous lovemaking, I’ve read. I gently stroke her hair from her temple to where her it lays nearly to the small of her back. Her hand wraps around mine just as it reconnects with her cheek. My skin is so sensitive to her touch. Her fingers curl tightly around mine.
Though every touch and caress is delightfully heightened in this state, I still feel a rising disbelief cloud my mind. The fact that this has happened and everything is different now still feel unknown to me. The fact that she loves me is unbelievable, not in a way that I don’t believe her, but that it is such a foreign feeling to be loved by her.
We just made love. Not even thirty minutes ago.
These thoughts shock me.
So that’s why I say, much to my chagrin, “Why do you love me?” before I can stop the words, they come out, unexpected in the still silence of the room.
She looks up and in doing so, her hair ruffles to the side where I had been playing with it, making me want to cup her face and give her a thousand kisses.
“What? Why would you say that?” she asks in surprise, a smile adorning her face. There isn’t any accusatory hint to her voice.
My face heats up into a deep blush for the second time tonight. Well, maybe the second time in my life.
“I-I don’t really know, love. I just have never had this happen to me before.”
Her eyebrows raise slightly, she qurikes her head, “ That was your first time having sex?” she quips.
It’s my turn to smile, “No, no. I mean I’ve never-I’ve never loved anyone like this besides you,” I confess, looking down.
Her hand cradles the side of my face, tilting it up to look at me, eye to eye. Her face is much more serious than a few seconds ago.
“I love you for many reasons. One is that I love the way I feel when I’m with you, like I can conquer the world. I know that may seem selfish, but It’s true. Another is that you are kind and soft and brave and passionate all at the same time. I find myself loving each and everyone of your facets, but my favorite is your happiness. When you’re happy, It almost magnetizes my happiness. I don’t really know why,” she takes a halting breath, “Also, you are so beautiful, inside and out,” she takes a breath, her eyes glimmering with what may be tears.
“When I was younger, I didn’t know why people fell in love. All I knew was that I hated them for it, I hated their secret of how exactly is it that you fall in love, how can someone love you unconditionally? But over the years I spent so much time trying to understand why people loved each other, whether it be spontaneous love at first sight or a love that builds over years and years, I read books and watched movies, tried to figure it out. I thought I did with Adam, but that wasn’t love. Eventually, I thought I was loveless, but then I started to know you,” her mouth begins to turn up into a smile.
“You taught me that I could be loved, that I wasn’t hopeless after all. And over time I started to want to convince you of that as well. I want you to know that I love you and you deserve love. So, to answer your question, I love your passion, your bravery, your empathy, your determination. I love you,” her affirmation fills me with a completely new feeling. Acceptance, happiness, love.
Our lips meet quickly. Our bodies shift to accomodate for the passion beginning to brew between us.
She crawls atop me, leans down and whispers into my ear, “Don’t you ever forget that,” it’s a command of sorts.
Her kisses are hot upon my lips. She trails them down to my jaw, my neck, then towards my collar bone.
I take that opportunity to flip her so her body writhes beneath mine. We’re in the center of the bed, taking up the space with our bodies horizontally. I hold her wrists tightly above her head as I repeat the gestures that she had just performed on me. She tilts her head back, stifling a moan.
Before I know it, she grinds her bottom half to me. I gasp at the sensitivity of the movement due to the fact that we are both naked. Any friction created is only by bare skin rubbing on bare skin and nothing else. The whole idea of it excites me more so. She continues that movement until I’m bordering on losing my patience. I’m a moaning mess in her arms. She grins up at me, uses her advantage and turns me on my back and stradles on top of me again.
We are now nearly at the edge of the bed. She leans into me, kissing me fervently. I duplicate her actions. I lull her body against mine with soft caresses and sweeps of my lips against hers.
Eventually neither of us are atop the other, we are just turned onto our sides slowly kissing and gently stimulating the other.
Our bodies are tightly pressed together. That’s how I know she can feel me, my growing desire. Juliette brings her hand to my chest. At first I think that she’s pushing me away for a moment, but then she slides her hand down my abs and slowly further, further. Past the tingling skin of my tattoo.
I groan tightly when her hand makes contact with my throbbing cock. She grips me, making no move up or down. She drives me insane with the contact of her hand on the most sensitive part of me, but not giving me exactly what I want, what I need.
Her grip tightens considerably making me grunt helplessly, “Love, please.”
She then begins to slowly, so slowly, move her hand up and down my quivering appendage. It’s tip brushes gently against her stomach, making me nearly thrust against her body. I breathe out shakily, almost whimpering in doing so.
I have never, ever, done this with anyone else. I would’ve never let anyone tease me and prod at my patience the way I’m letting her.
She loosens her hand, moving faster. I moan in relief against her hair. I kiss her temple as gently as I can, in appreciation of her movements.
I kiss her harder. Much more passionately and powerfully than a moment before.
She turns then, gliding her body to sit atop me again. Her hand is still roughly manhandling my fully erect staff. Her eyes are shut, almost peacefully. But that’s when I see her other hand frantically moving over her slickened center in between her legs. She moves her hand quickly over and around the pretty, swollen bud. I groan loudly at her act of self pleasure, which somehow makes my cock stand even taller within the confines of her hand.
Her hand struggles to fully wrap around my impressive length. She massages the blushing, creamy tip of my cock. Back down then up again. The veins of it strain against the sensitive skin. Pre-cum begins to melt out of the tip and down my hard erection.
“Please. I need you,” I moan out, my eyes still fixed to where she’s fondling herself.
She smirks down at me. I think maybe I shouldn’t have said anything when she takes my length, letting it rest on my stomach, pointing upward, and moves her slick center to carefully hover atop it.
“ Juliette-“
I have no defense however when she grinds herself upon me. Directly, skin on skin. Our most sensitive parts grind together so beautifully, helped with her warm essence sliding around my cock.
Our bodies, still not connected, are bent in pleasure. Her clit rubs against my slitted head, tantalizing, until she eagerly glides her womanhood towards the base of my hardness. Her moans and desperate pants make me even more enthralled by her swift movements.
She begins to create a steady rhythm of moving forward and backwards. Somehow her center becomes even warmer and wetter than before, making it easier for her to grind hotly against me.
I lose myself in the pleasure of her movements. I lay, helpless, unknowing how to act in this situation. I moan, my swollen cock becoming even more sensitive. It soon occurs to me that she won’t let me enter her, that she’ll continue these movements until we both finish. The very idea of reaching a peak beneath her, beneath her silken folds excites me more so.
I gently push up against her body. I do this every time her clit rubs against me. She seems to revel in my attention to her sensitive bud; barely is she able to keep in this small whimpering sound.
She grinds against me harder, giving me no room to possibly escape her passionate gliding gestures. When she begins to move in a circular motion I can’t hold back my gasp of pleasure when her hips swivel around the head of my very engorged cock.
She continues the rocking motion into my lap. She begins to become even more desperate and almost what could be described as sloppy. I look up to scan her iridescent body. Her blushing torso and the pink cheekbones framing her face do something unnameable to me; they make me more frenzied and also completely complicit in her movements.
I mutter her name under my breath nonsensically. Half moaning it, half with frustration of nearly coming just from just the sight of her above me.
An especially hard grind onto my manhood makes me throw my head back at the sensation it evokes.
Almost there
So soon after-
I can tell she’s just as close as I am by the way she stops for a moment, hips jerking around slightly, her womanhood still cupping my cock, and then moves much more frantically against me.
It amazes me how she can cause so much unadulterated ecstasy without there being penetration.
I arch my hips to hers fiercely, gasping loudly and sputtering a series of passionate phases, foreign to my own ears.
“Oh. Juliette, yes.”
While the first peak I met with this woman was hurried and passionate and frantic, this time, though passionate, is much more calm which gives me time to appreciate the way her eyes shut tight. The way her bottom moves fluidly and concentrated in her finish. The way her beautiful mouth drops open and silence seems to spill out. I memorize the shape of her lips as she silently speaks my name. Aaron Aaron Aaron…
Cream pours from me, almost endlessly. My cock spasms against my stomach as she still roughly drags herself from the peak of me to my girth; helped by my heaping liquid still actively squirting from me.
Her hands grip mine as she arches her body forward. She hovers above me, above what she’s done to me. She looks down at her work; the way my come runs along my muscled stomach. She smirks down at me, but I can still see the amazement in her eyes.
She leans down and kisses me, traces my lips delicately with hers. She gets up slowly and then hops off the mussed bed and onto the floor. I decline the need to reach for her.
She gently sturdys herself on the floor for a moment and walks into the bathroom. I can’t help the smile as I watch her naked form saunter into the adjoining room.
I sit up onto my elbows in awe. She seems to act like she’s done this a hundred times even though it’s just been her second. It makes me laugh on the inside. Her confidence doesn’t just awe me, it also surprises me. How she can just tease me into submission and then walk away is beyond me. But to be honest, I actually like it, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on.
I hear the faucet run for a moment. I listen carefully. I hear a few clattering sounds I wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t just made love to me and got up and dallied into my bathroom like she owned the place; which, at this point, she does.
She returns shortly with a washcloth in her hand. She straddles me again, though casually this time. The cold tip of the cloth, where she must have ran it under the faucet, against my abs makes me nearly jump. She smiles at me.
She gently wipes away the liquids that resulted from our vigorous acts only a few minutes ago. She folds the cloth, moving backwards on the bed, and sets it onto the adjacent nightstand.
She joins me back in my arms; hushed and delicately, she presses her lips to my neck, across the plane of my jaw and finally to my own lips. She murmurs something unintelligible.
“Hmm?”
“ I said, did you like it? Me being… on top?” She asks almost hesitantly.
I nod vigorously, hardly breathing because of the nature of her question, but also because she’s so close. I grapple for her lips again and shift her in my arms, aligning our hips.
“I liked it very much so,” I respond.
Her answering smile sends a shiver through me. I glide my hands to her waist and up again. Her legs entwine with mine as the kiss deepens.
We move so I hover gently above her. pressing together thoughtlessly.
We embrace tightly and coolly, and stay like that for a long while; I can’t seem to make myself detach myself from her just yet. We stay wrapped together, hands moving and exploring both gently and excitedly. About an hour or so passes.
And then, she asks so suddenly it takes me back for a moment, “How often do you do this?”
The insecurity and vulnerability I feel from her takes me by surprise. Doesn’t she know how much I love her? How much I want her?
She continues softly, “Sleeping with people, I mean.”
My hand tightens around her upper thigh. I kiss her temple.
I should have known that this would have come up.
“Sometimes,” I admit, even though it was more than sometimes. Well, sometimes it was at night or at midday when I wanted to forget about the stresses of my life for a little while. It happened with, mostly, anyone that I wanted it to happen with; It happened with people who knew Warner and my power and what I could do to them, but never knew who Aaron was.
Sometimes rough and hurried, my eyes closed tightly, trying not to cry about how pathetic I felt, rutting around at night or at the most unconventional times knowing that what I was doing was with people who I didn’t love, people who didn’t give a damn about me. Sometimes elongated and even, rarely so, semi-enjoyable. It was pleasuring to the point that I didn’t want any more. It was a hard sort of desire without ever being insatiable, without the glazed over feel of euphoric love and affection that the word “sex” is mainly branded with.
So, I tell her. I tell her everything. About the people it happened with, the lack of feelings. I do, however, leave out most of the details of the encounters.
I remember how the most disturbing sounds scissored the air around us, which made me want to die right there. The popped springs in beds, sheets soaked through with despair.
She listens so closely and calmly. I become a thin sheet. So vulnerable and so, so out in the open. For the first time in my life, I share a part of myself, a part I had never shared with anyone. I go into stories; my first time, a time when I just wanted to prove to myself that I could be loved, that I could be wanted; sometime after my 15th birthday, the marks still fresh on my back and my heart.
“Until tonight, I had never understood why people would ever refer to sex as ‘making love,’” I say, making air-quotes, “So thank you, Juliette. Thank you so much for making me understand that. For teaching me to love,” I’m close to tears now, they well up in my eyes, threatening to fall.
She wraps me tighter and cuddles me to her chest. All the while whispering to me that she is thankful to me for loving her. She tells me how beautiful I am, how I deserve more.
“It’s never going to be that way ever again,” she cradles her hands to my face, making me look up at her, “I love you. I promise you, you’re safe here,” she wipes away straying tears from my cheeks. She somehow knows exactly what to say, exactly how to hold me. She shrouds me in an unnamed kindness and acceptance. So raw and pure.
I kiss her gently. I cup her face into my hands as I lower over her with care. We stay like that, kissing lightly.