The early morning sun peeked through the blinds of my room, the brightness making me squint my eyes tight against it and roll over, my face now pressed into the chest of my warm companion. I looked up at Stephen admiring the peaceful way he slept, his tousled hair laying on his face. I ran my hand through his hair, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and slipped out of his grasp to prepare breakfast for two. I searched for something quick to wear, trying not to make any noise letting him sleep a little longer. I settled on grabbing Stephen’s shirt from the night before and slipped it over my head, padding quietly from the room.
Going downstairs, I headed straight for the kitchen, turning on the lights and walking over to the fridge. I pulled out a carton of eggs, a package each of bacon and sausage, carefully balancing them on the way to the counter-space near the stove. Placing them down, I made quick work of finding some pans to cook the food in and fired up the stovetops, placing both pans on top heating them up. Passing my hand over the pan, but not touching the bottom, the heat hit the palm of my hand allowing me to be able to crack some eggs into it and begin to fry them.
As I put the bacon and sausage in the other pan, something or rather someone warm pressed into my back, two arms sliding around my waist, my lips turning upwards into a smile.
“Good morning sweetheart. You look great in my shirt by the way,” Stephen’s deep voice greeted me, the low rumble vibrating in my ear, his chin resting on one of my shoulders. I flipped the eggs careful to not break the yolk in the center.
“Thank you, my love. Are you hungry? I’ve made bacon and eggs-,” I commented cut off by Stephen turning my body to face him – he was only half naked because of the stolen shirt, having put on jeans before coming down to join me – and pressed his lips against mine. We kissed again, breaking apart and gazing deep into each other’s eyes.
“Yes, if you must know. I’m very hungry for more than one thing,” he told me, cupping my face. I pressed my cheek into his palm, my hand not holding the spatula, taking his hand and kissing the center of the palm.
“Breakfast first, then we’ll see about feeding your other hunger later,” I said, winking at him before turning back to the food, finishing up and plating the eggs and meat, handing one to Stephen and directing him to the dining table. I put my plate down and went to grab a couple of mugs, pouring us some coffee; Stephen wanted his black and I put a little bit of creamer in mine, cutting the bitter taste of the rich liquid and returned to the table.
“I thought it might be a good idea to venture out to Central Park today. Maybe even get some ice cream and walk around, talk some. But first, I should stop by the Sanctum and grab some fresh clothes if I’m going to be spending the next few nights here,” Stephen told me, holding my hand and rubbing the back of hand with his thumb.
“Sounds like a good idea. Though I’m not entirely ready to give your shirt back,” I teased, popping the last bite of my egg in my mouth, a playful smile on my lips.
“Guess I’m going to have to convince you to give it back then,”
“Oh really? How are you planning on doing that exactly?”
“Let’s clean this up and I’ll show you,”
Cleaning up the dishes, we raced back to my room, Stephen pushing me against the bed, climbing on top of me. My hands slid around his back, the muscles rippling against my fingertips as he lowered himself down, our bodies pressed close.
He kissed me slow, yet hungry with passion, his tongue slipping past my lips’ barrier, tangling with my own. His hands slid under the hem of the shirt, pushing it up my waist, my hands moving to grab his wrists and pulling them away. Rolling him over, I leaned down to kiss him, pinning his hands above his head while we made out, releasing them to brush my hands down his chest.
Again his hands returned to lift off his shirt from my body, sitting up to remove it completely, my breasts rubbing against his chest.
“My, my doctor. I think you have thoroughly convinced me,” I stated, gasping as his thumbs grazed over my sensitive skin, my nipples hardening at his touch.
“Great. Now, I’d like to continue kissing you if that’s alright?”
I nodded as our lips locked once more, him pulling me down on top of him, his hands rubbing my back, my hands snaking in his already tousled hair. We made out for a while, our lips swollen once we finally broke apart, stopping our actions before we got too carried away.
“Let’s get dressed and head out. Do you feel like doing a movie night later?” he stated, picking me up from the bed and carrying me over to my wardrobe.
“Count me in,” I answered, giving his a final kiss, unwinding my legs from his waist as he set me down. I picked out a light blue tank top, and white denim shorts, brown sandals to match and he changed back into his outfit from last night; we went through a portal to the Sanctum to grab some clothes for Stephen. He changed into a dark green t-shirt and black jeans and tennis shoes, stuffing the other clothes in a duffel bag.
Leaving the Sanctum, we stopped by a ice cream parlor and got us a couple of vanilla cones, heading to Central Park to walk around and talk for a few hours or at least until lunch time.
“Enjoying your ice cream?” he asked me, taking a bite of his own.
“Yes, most definitely. Oh, hey Stephen. I think you’ve got a little bit on your face,” I commented, a trick up my sleeve.
“Right…here!” I stated, swiping some on his nose with my cone.
“You didn’t just do that. If you had, I might’ve done this,”
He swiped some on both of my cheeks; squeals from the cold treat escaping my lips.
“That’s it. You’ve started an ice cream war,” I said, sliding the dripping cream all over his face, laughing at his shocked expression.
“Come here, Sophie. I’m getting you back for that,”
He tried to do the same to me but I ran, Stephen easily catching up to me, locking his arms around me; no escape from his own cone. Squeals of delight came from my mouth as he licked the ice cream from my neck and kissing my nose to get it from there as well; he kissed me, our lips sticking together from the ice cream.
“Here, let me clean the rest off,” he told me, taking a napkin to my face doing his best to get rid of the stickiness.
“Lean down for a minute,” I stated, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, ending with his lips; the remainder of the sticky liquid I wiped off with a napkin, kissing him again. Breaking the kiss, we threw our ruined cones in a trashcan continuing our walk through Central Park, his arm draped over my shoulders and talking about everything we could think of. We left the park an hour later to grab lunch at a pizzeria, heading back to the compound, the rest saved for dinner tonight; we started our movie night, nothing but horror movies, and cuddled on the couch.
I switched from my head on his chest to stretching out and placing my head on his lap, one of his hands lying flat on my chest, tracing his scars absentmindedly.
“ Can I ask you a question?” he asked, his blue eyes capturing mine.
“Why do you do that? Trace my scars I mean? Not that I mind but I’ve just noticed you’ve done that every time we’re together and holding hands.
“Oh, I like them, your scars. Plus, your hands have a slight cool touch to them. It’s a really nice feeling to me,” I responded, tracing his pointer finger.
“You don’t think they’re ugly?” he asked, an insecurity revealing itself, something I hadn’t realized he had.
“Stephen, I think they’re beautiful. They’re one of my favorite things about you other than that lovely personality of yours and those gorgeous blue eyes. I love how you hold me tight in bed and how you kiss me in such a way that leaves me wanting more. I love you…with my whole heart,” I confessed, sitting up, linking both of my hands with his.
“Sophie…I love you too. I love everything about you, including the way you’re always excited to see me when I come over. I love the way you tease me even when you don’t know you’re even doing it. My most favorite things though is when find ways to touch me including the way you trace my hands,” he told me. He kissed me breaking our linked hands to cup my head, my arms wrapping around his neck. We kissed a few more times, Stephen sliding me down on the couch to lie on top of me, his hands slipping under my shirt.
“Wait, I think I’d rather continue this in the shower. We both got a little sticky from our ice cream war this afternoon and I’d love to play around in there,” I commented, pushing him back up and ridding him of his shirt to get the fun started.
“By all means, take us to the shower,” he said, desire present in his eyes. I turned off the TV and pulled him to my room and towards the bathroom, turning on the shower. Waiting on the hot water, I stripped him of his jeans and underwear, Stephen removing my clothes as well. Testing the water, I got in, tugging him in. He backed my body against the cerulean blue tiled wall, the cold surface hitting my back, our lips smashing against each other. He pressed his hands on my breasts, kneading them and pinching my nipples. His tongue slid in my mouth, those same hands traveling down to spread my legs, slipping two fingers inside my core.
I moaned in his mouth, his pace picking up. Reaching down, I grabbed his cock, stroking him, pleasurable moans and groans slipping from his lips, our breathing turning into breathy pants. He moved his lips to my neck kissing and sucking on various spots, all sorts of pleasure shooting through me.
“I’ve got to be…inside you now. Please tell me you have a condom in here just to be safe,” Stephen exclaimed, his pupils fully dilated with pleasure. He pulled back, allowing me to exit the shower and grab one from the vanity drawer underneath my sink and slip it onto him. He pulled me to the bench inside the shower, sitting me on his lap, effortlessly sliding inside my entrance. We both moaned loudly, not caring since there was no one around to hear us; the pleasure we felt skyrocketed inside us, hitting every nerve in our bodies. I rode him, bracing myself on his shoulders as our pace quickened, his hands grasping my hips. The climax hit him first, but he continued fucking me until I reached my orgasm, my walls clenching around him, my breath coming out shaky. I rested my head on his chest, both of us breathing hard, his arms holding me close.
I slipped off of him, standing under the showerhead as he disposed of the condom. I lathered up shampoo in my hair, my hands replaced by his, the massage he gave feeling heavenly. I rinsed it out, Stephen lathering up some body wash in his hands and rubbing it onto my skin, any excuse to keep touching me; he pulled my head back to kiss me, one finger slipping inside me once more. He stopped when he had me on the edge, having me lather him up before we got out and dried off.
I pulled him back to the bedroom where our fun continued. I spread out on the bed, getting him to lie on top of me to continue what he had started in the shower. He kissed me, spreading my legs with his knee and positioned his body at my entrance lining up his cock to slip inside me. He broke the passionate kiss for a moment to look at me, his desire burning into my soul.
“I want to make love to you slowly, intimately…passionately until exhaustion takes over and we end up in each other’s arms,” he told me, sheathing himself inside my body. He kissed me pumping in and out ever so slowly, our fingers linking together, my legs encasing his waist. I arched my back, my chest pressed into him, the passion increasing with each thrust, and each kiss. Hours later when the exhaustion set in after taking turns being on top and riding each other, when the sun began to rise, we were in each other’s arms, our souls bonding to become one. I gave him one last glance before drifting off knowing that Stephen was the one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.