Aching, Smouldering Vignette

It’s late.

Far too late to be awake let alone nursing a cup of coffee that went cold hours ago

The living room is dark, only the light of the TV flickering, and some inane advert playing quietly and proclaiming that this contraption will tone  your buns and your thighs. Wow, she thinks. Fascinating.

Snowing outside still. Good. That makes her happy.

Sounds of cars slushing over the road and distant voices and laughter one only hears at the 3am hours.

She wears his shirt, and nothing else, sits with her knees raised to her chest, hugging them in the slight chill of the room and lets her mind drift. Her hair falls defiantly over her shoulders and cannot be tamed, especially considering…the last few hours.

Insomnia helps her think, gather her thoughts which are as always, far too wild and disjointed to be kept at bay.

Thoughts of him and his touch , urgent yet gentle, hungry yet loving crash as waves over her memory and she begins to stroke the soft skin of her thigh, recalling his lips there only a couple of hours ago.

She doesn’t want to wake him up but she longs to feel him near her. Her body aches with love and need when they are apart. Her heart races with sprinting urgency when she is not under his gaze. Her breath threatens to cease and end her whenever he is not touching her. Her mind overcrowded and suffocating when he is not calming her uncontrollable thoughts. Her body, lonely and wanting him when his arms are not enveloping her.

She closes her eyes and wonders if he will sense her absence from the bed…

“Why are you awake, baby?” she hears his voice from behind her and does not turn yet, but smiles to herself that her thoughts were interrupted by her favourite sound- his voice.

He joins her on the sofa, not disturbing her comfy position, but placing her knees over his lap, his arm around her waist, another on her knee…for now and his face millimeters away from hers.

She places her hand on the back of his neck, stroking gently and  rests another on his chest allowing him to look into her eyes for an eternity a few seconds.

A soft kiss. Lips that were made for hers. Shivers wash over her body. Warmth between her legs.

“I can’t sleep,”

“No? Even after…”

She laughs. “I did for a bit. But now…too many thoughts,”

“Good thoughts I hope,” his hand on her cheek, now her neck…now unbuttoning the shirt..

She closes her eyes. “Good. Yes…so many things…” is all she manages to say, his lips now on her ear, whispering everything he knows she needs to hear as his hands finish what they started and he slips the shirt off her shoulders, his hands following its path down her back, igniting every insane spark of arousal in her now trembling body.

“You don’t need to think…about… anything…except Us,” he whispers, kissing her neck after every pause.

Her hand moves down his chest, over his stomach, feeling his muscles reacting to her touch as she reaches what she needs, and his hands with a mind of their own, gripping the flesh of her waist, hard with an urgency too delicious to resist, she hoping and wanting him to leave his marks on her body, claiming it as his. Knowing beyond doubt that she belongs to him.

She throws her head back as he traces his hand down her chest, between her breasts and teasing the soft skin of her stomach, he reaches her arousal and resisting a touch for now, parts her legs with a hard grip exposing her to him as looks ather again, ending her with this gaze of love and desire and covers her mouth with his, kissing her deeper than he ever has, harder than she has ever felt, barely breathing , tasting every drop of this kiss, losing all sense of time and reality and any thoughts that had tortured her until this moment. His fingers slowly find their place and  begin to move in ways only he knows she loves, movements only he knows she wants and she rocks herself against his hand, not wanting to let this finish as his other hand grips her hair and he pulls her closer and closer deeper and deeper into this kiss, hurting her now but no… Not that pain. Not the pain that hurts and tortures but pain that needs and wants and loves and claims.

She moves herself to a kneeling position beside him, her lips craving his already, forcing him to move his hand away for a moment and then allowing him to stroke it up the back of her legs, between them…where she is dripping wet with insatiable appetite for what only he can give her as she was meant to be given. And taken.

He places her with forceful, gripping hands in his lap. Their bodies close in this way, face to face, breath to breath, lips to lips…he knows this is what she wants, what she likes. His hands marking her back, pulling her closer if that were possible, claiming her mouth once again, her arms around his neck, her lips breaking away from their kiss to tell him she wants him, she wants him so much, now, please she whispers, she wants him inside her, she loves him, so much, more than anything she says and he smiles at her need for him, this love for him and tells her he loves her, only her and more more more and more words she loves to hear and as he whispers eternity in her ears, she lifts herself onto him, slides his rock hard need for everything she is inside her and gasps in pleasure and deep aching lust and pain and love, never taking her eyes off him, as he pushes her down harder, pulling her towards him with every delicious rocking of her hips against him, her moans and cries of pleasure only making him want her more, never wanting this to stop, locked as they are, deeply deeply in something more than love, something more than the healing of past pain, something beyond the trembling, pulsating, throbbing orgasm slowly taking them both, something deeper than words and bodies and warm wet parts of hers that ache for him and beyond the thrusting, hard urgency he is taking her with, gripping her with, claiming and fucking her with, something poetry can’t express, whispers can’t breathe, lips can’t kiss and hearts can’t beat. And as he feels every beat and rhythm and hears every gasp and cry and yes yes yes baby, don’t stop and closes his eyes at every sharp pain of her nails down his back, as she presses every inch of herself into the remaining miniscule space between their sweating, writhing bodies and breathes I Love You onto his lips he holds her tighter than he ever has and she rests her quivering body against him, their explosion sending after shock of wave after wave of this moment through their bodies, and neither of them let go but stay locked in this way…together blissful.



42 thoughts on “Aching, Smouldering Vignette

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    1. Been trying to contact you via your blog but I think I am being spammed by WP.
      it happened on the blog of a good friend of mine. I am sure if you check your spam, you’ll find me there! ❤️


  1. Another wonderful foray into erotica, and one that I should’ve waiting until I got home to read. I really enjoyed the cadence, or pacing of your happy ending. The italics definitely had a tempo increase that was commensurate to the activity being described.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You should know by now that anything with vignette in the title is going to be ‘read at home’ material!
      I actually love the way you described this. Makes me feel like I planned it and did it all that way on purpose!

      Appreciate your word’s and ‘enthusiasm’.

      Thank you xx

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I see the response it got. Often I think the sexy stuff gets read a lot and commented on because well, it makes people horny, lol.
      But there was intimacy in this.
      I love that you were drawn to it, Mr. Lonely Author

      That really stood out for you? That tells me a lot about you.
      That was important for me. I think there’s an intimacy in a moment like that, I didn’t drop it in by accident or as an extra addition. I love that and it’s not something I can do unless I am in love. And it leads to another moment, where two lips are not quite touching, just waiting to be kissed between breaths and I think in that tiny moment there is magic.

      In fact, this whole piece has a lot of my favourite things in it. It was actually a lot more revealing than most people who’ve read it have realised.
      Why are you’s meant to make you feel warm and tingly.

      Liked by 1 person

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