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| Second Chances; PG-13 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Friday Nov 25 2005, 02:28 AM (664 Views) | |
| Fanfics Admin 01 | Friday Nov 25 2005, 02:28 AM Post #1 |
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Second chances don’t come often in life and rarer are the times when you can recognize that you’ve been given one. More often than not we let the moment slip past when we could of said ‘wait’, ‘I’m sorry’, or taken that chance to kiss, to touch, to heal. Easier to stay blind in our own little worlds of anger and hurt, to deliberately misinterpret that reaching forth in the other person’s eyes, than to change things or open old wounds. Lucas understood these things, let the knowledge of it seep down throughout his very being as he leaned against the doorway and watched his wife doing the dishes. She didn’t have a clue that he was there with a soft smile, taking in the way her bright hair fell over her face as she leaned over the sink, her terry cloth baby blue robe slightly parted over the swell of her breasts and hips, her rosy skin peeking through the slit, the slide of her hands through the murky soapy water as they guided a rag over glass, and the silence of the morning that surrounded her like a halo—so simple, so perfect. And so astonishing that he could love this completely. He let his smile grow with intent, showing his teeth, feeling the intensity that was surely darkening his eyes and moved with a quiet stealth and quicker grace until his hands rested on that soft cotton drawing her hips back against his own grazing the side of her face with his rough, unshaven cheek listening to the raging of their twine hearts along with her sharp hiss of surprise and moving his cool hands upwards widening the opening of her robe until he reached the undeniable softness of her breasts cupping them gliding his thumbs across her tightening nipples as she leaned back letting the glass slip from her hands while she pressed into him closing her eyes with a low moan. It never ceased to amaze him how responsive she became in his arms, or how every bit of pleasure he gave her escalated his own a thousand times higher. As he lavished her neck with his moist warm lips and tongue, nibbling and sucking while he slightly pinched her nipples reveling in her groans of encouragement, her wild abandon as she turned around to seek his mouth with her own need, the rightness of it nearly blew him away. After everything that past between them, all the hateful words and acts, all the lies; he knew he wasn’t worthy of her trust. And he sure as hell realized that he didn’t deserve her love. But that didn’t matter. What mattered is that he felt like he was born again into another life, another chance carrying all the pain of the past as a challenge to rectify instead of a weight. And when he took her to their bed and she took him inside of her where everything was heat and action and emotion; he knew he would never need to hide again. In the quiet that followed, in the bliss of crumpled sheets and languid rest and sweat, he turned to her wanting to explain how he felt, what she gave to him, but the words wouldn’t come and he became afraid that he’d never be able to make her understand and that the moment would be lost; but she must of saw it, read it in his expression because when she gently kissed. |
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