Page 64 of Rootbound
“Honey, I gotta come in you for the first time.”
“Who says that wasn’t my plan?” she says up at me. Lust blackens my vision for a second.
“Keep talking like that and I won’t be able to go gentle, Tait.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Fuck.”
I tip her onto her back and guide myself to her entrance with trembling hands. I push in a few inches, and fuck. She’s hotter, tighter, wetter than anything I could have dreamt of, and I tell her as much. Her hands slide up my chest as I retreat, hooking her knee around my hip before I push in further. She lets loose a sigh, and smiles in that way that stops my heart. She steals the words from my mouth then, saying, “You’re beautiful.”
It overexcites me, and I thrust harder, just shy of all the way in. Her face looks pained for a second before she relaxes around me. “God, Tait. Baby, it’s the best. It’s so good, love. So tight.” I kiss the corners of her eyes, holding as still as I can so I can get my bearings. We rock and grind, push and slide until I’m fully seated, eventually pulled all the way by her as I have been in all ways.
I murmur to her, all the things I love, eating up every sound and sigh and whimper, grinding against her until she’s moaning incoherently. I can’t look away, willing her to read my mind and every thought, willing myself to memorize every expression she makes. She keens out my nameand I become an animal, sliding us down the bed to the edge where I can stand. I fling her leg over my shoulder and slide a pillow under her, propping one of my knees on the bed to angle the way I notice elicits little grunts of need.
I see it play out in slow motion as her eyes roll back, her hair fanned out across the bed, her tits bouncing, body covered in a sheen of sweat. Her wrists are bound by my one hand above her, my other splayed across her belly as I touch her. She says my name when her pussy starts to contract around me, and I have the clear thought that this, this right here, is what I pray plays through my mind when I kick the bucket. I want this to be the last thing my mind remembers before I die.
The realization unravels the last of my control and I start pounding into her, the sounds of our bodies smacking together echoing. I come on a strangled sound that I can’t withhold, my orgasm starting from the top of my skull, shooting through the base of my spine and taking a piece of my soul with it.
I stare down at her in awe, petting her lovingly as I pant. She turns to kiss my palm, and I don’t know why, but it chokes something in me. I cover my expression by bending down to kiss her, sliding out of her regretfully. I can’t manage words yet, so I go get supplies from the bathroom and tend to her, cleaning her up with a warm wet towel before wiping everything with a dry one. The sight of me on the insides of her thighs brings out the caveman in me again, and I wonder how long she’ll smell like me, and I like her.
We can’t seem to stop touching after that, but I worry that sharing what I’m thinking will just scare her at thispoint, so I tuck her back to my front after a bit, putting her safely under my chin.
“Impossible question?” she asks me, quietly. I nod against the top of her head. “Was that the best sex of your life, or…?”
I push her shoulder down to turn her to me. “Tait, I’m back here writing sonnets in my head about it. Yes, that was the greatest sexual experience of my entire life.”Also, how do I keep you? Is it way too soon to feel like this? I think you’re my soulmate and I never thought that was a real thing before I met you. You’ve turned my thoughts into an endless stream of cheesy romcom lines that are somehow applicable and understandable now. You had me at hello.
She laughs, and I laugh back, both sounding worn.
Outside, it begins to rain.
The last thing I remember before sleep takes me is kissing her shoulder, smelling her jasmine scent.
Sometime in the night I wake up to her mouth and hands and the curtain of her hair dragging down my front. My cock surges, hard to the point of pain. My eyes find hers just as she takes me in her mouth.
She peppers kisses along my shaft in between words of praise. “Sweet. Sexy. Beautiful. Generous man.”
“Stealing my lines, Tait.…”
Sometime later, she slips back to sleep easily, but it evades me. I stare at her peaceful face, mentally walking myself through the last few weeks until we got here, stifling the odd laugh when certain momentscome to mind.
She’s here, wrapped in my sheets, peaceful, beautiful. An angel, so sure of herself in so many ways, except in this—in trust, in letting herself be seen and loved, in letting herself love something back. The woman won’t even let herself have a pet, despite how she tears up over the love of an animal. And she chose me. At least she chose me to trust, and whether or not she realizes this bit yet, it hits me that I know I love her.
The feeling is nothing like the unfurling of a rose, nothing like the tentative, slow burn I recall.
It’s like busting open a can of biscuits.
I know the feeling’s there, I know what’s going to happen every time I acknowledge it, but it shocks me nonetheless.
I should be scared about making myself vulnerable again. I really should. We live in different states, for fuck’s sake. And even though I can see she belongs here, and I know that I do, I also know that she’s in for a hairier turn in this journey, in finding herself again. I know it would be easier to let go.
I know she’ll question this every step of the way, and the last thing I want to be is another hardship for her. How do I make her see, though? Am I man enough, or patient enough to give her the space to go through this on her own? To support her, reassure her, even when she inevitably tries to close me out? Will she even let me? I want to fix all of it for her, to imprint how I see her into her brain, to blow up that image so large that it leaves no room for doubt.
Thirty-One
Tait
Sex with Henry is…more.So much more than my dirty little imagination was capable of. There are more orgasms, sure… but there’s also more laughter, more words—God, so many words of praise, more touching, more tasting.