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[rosarianoath]

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[rosarianoath]

[He nods, attention drifting between his finger working in and out of her, and the shifting expressions on her face. His own chuckle is low, husky.]

I did. It’s downstairs.

[noburden]

[Of all the things to take through more than one move. Jill laughs, a strange flood of fondness rushing through her before she registers what it is--and quickly quiets herself.

This isn't about how they feel about one another. This is just sex, she tells herself. She shouldn't care that he kept that thing they got during one of the last good times together that she can recall.]

[rosarianoath]

[Her sudden quiet has him thinking he’s pushed too hard, too deep — the taper of his finger towards the crux, too much of a crook, something like that. He’s hesitant to withdraw when he can coax her through it, so he just sinks to his knees again and presses another kiss to her snatch, intending to lick her through slowly adding another finger.]

[noburden]

[Reflexively, she combs her fingers through his hair when he kisses her, body relaxed while her emotions swirl dangerously in her chest.]

I've dreamed of you in my bed so often.

[A sigh as he stretches her, and an easier admission than anything else heavy on her heart.]

[rosarianoath]

[He glances up at her, eyes bright under his dark bangs. She dreams of him? It settles on his mind and he groans comfortably against her as he continues to work her open.

Would it hurt her if he said he dreams of her every night?]

[noburden]

[Just a look, just a sound from him, melts her.]

So many times, I... [She trails off, body aching for more of him, and she indulges by pressing herself against him.]

I've thought of climbing into your bed.

[He's been so close to her, and closer now with after the flooding of the basement. She could just slide in next to him, let her hands travel over his body, and bask in his warmth.]

[rosarianoath]

[He draws in a sharp breath and takes his mouth from her, just briefly, his breath still hot on her. He asks, fingers scissoring briefly:]

Did you think I had the fortitude to turn you away? That I wouldn’t fold, sick of an empty bed?

[noburden]

[She didn't do it because it would be a mistake. A weakness. He decided that they were not to be, and so he lost the right to the comfort of her body while ripping away the comfort of his.

Yet here they are.]

Your bed hasn't always been empty.

[No, she doesn't think he's brought anyone here, but realistically... she knows there must be others. Who wouldn't want him, and were he lonely and not with her, why would he deny himself?]

[rosarianoath]

[He’s surprised by how immediately annoyed he is, how ruthless the feeling of having his feelings dismissed is. Perhaps it’s in part because it’s true —- he has known others —- but so has she.

He withdraws his fingers and takes his cock in hand as he gets up and looms over her.]

I’ve never taken pleasures with anyone under this roof other than you. Can you say the same?

[noburden]

[She reaches to pass her fingers over any part of him that she can reach. She looks up at him, a frown on her face.]

I can. It's only been you, unless my own hand counts.

[But she'd think of him, anyway.]

[rosarianoath]

[He doesn’t believe her. He doesn’t say it, but it’s there on his face as casts his gaze down over her wandering hands to what he’s doing: he wets his dick with their juices and returns its head to her asshole.]

[noburden]

[She can read him like a book. There's a sharp inhale of breath as she feels his cock, hands still roaming his skin.]

Other places. Not here. Never here.

[It's too disrespectful. ]

[rosarianoath]

[He pushes in; just the head feels like an intense amount of pressure to overcome, and he’s too busy gasping to reply for a moment. He creeps in, slow, cautious. It gives him a head rush. Finally, low:]

I saw him — your lover. I spoke to him in your kitchen.

[noburden]

[She's glad he worked her with his fingers. He feels almost impossibly big, but the last thing she wants is for him to stop. She takes a breath, looking at him, this close to a laugh while also feeling annoyed.]

I don't know how many times I have to tell you, Clive. Dion is not my lover.

[Please, she does not want to think about the man she loves as a brother while getting fucked. It leads to an immediate memory of Clive's bruised face.]

[rosarianoath]

Not Dion. [He doesn’t want to think about Dion either, albeit for different reasons. He thrusts shallowly, getting a thumb on her clit to rub slow circles on it, still bent over her. He clarifies:] The little one. The one with the mouth.

[noburden]

[She would moan at how he feels if she wasn't preoccupied with trying to figure out who he means. P? He would have said if he encountered Clive.

She shakes her head. Doesn't matter.]

I don't have a lover. I sleep with people because I'm lonely. Because I miss you. And I would never do it in the home you've given me, Clive.

[rosarianoath]

[The pressure intensifies. He closes his eyes every time he withdraws, and with a grunt he pushes in deeper. Touching as her words are, as troubling as they are, he knows his own intuition. He has to. He insists:]

The university man.

[noburden]

[Luis.

When? Jill can't think of when he had a chance to meet Clive. He hasn't said anything of it. But her mind is currently occupied by Clive's cock pushing deeper into her, and she sighs, pieces fitting into place.]

What I say is still true. Not here.

[Luis has a nice enough bed at his apartment.]

[rosarianoath]

[So he was right, if only about the nature of it. He’s quiet for a beat, just breathing as he fucks her, spurred on by this. Finally, he can’t resist asking:]

Is he a better lover?

[noburden]

[What an awful, sad question. Jill reaches for his face, needing to hold him because her heart suddenly aches too much despite the pleasure she feels. Despite the petty part of her that still feels scorned that he ruined them.]

Don't ask me that and I won't ask if you've had better than me.

[She's sure he has. People with more experience. People with more passion.

She's only ever tried her best.]

[rosarianoath]

[He’s so keyed up, horny and heartaching and possessive, that the statement drags out an immediate answer even if she doesn’t want it.]

I don’t love them.

[He lets the weight of his cheek settle in her hand and his thrusts grow slower again. He needs to be honest as much as he needs to come again. Eyes dead on hers:]

I love you.

[noburden]

Then why are you making me suffer so?

[It's not like they haven't been over it a hundred times. But it's harder to swallow when he's buried inside her. Her thumb strokes his cheek, over scars and scruff.]

I only want you.

[rosarianoath]

Why am I—-?

[There’s a thread of frustration there. It’s with everything, himself and all of circumstance. Maybe even a bit with her, too. She’s so tender with him, even when he’s been brusque. Distant.]

Please. Just let me do what I can for us.

[Right now, that’s an orgasm.]

[noburden]

[Her hand slips to the side of his neck, gentle and tender as ever as she looks into his eyes.]

I never loved you for what you could do. Don't you know that? It was always just you. Broken or whole, Clive.

[rosarianoath]

I know. You’ve said so.

[It plays over and over in his mind, a steady beat of regret and poor judgment, and he stills in her completely, halfway in. Long exhale. What to do next? Continue?]