On Nights Like These
by: Lori J
Author's webpage: http://home.att.net/~lojojan
I worry late at night. Thoughts that would never cross my mind in the day haunt me at night when I try to sleep. I toss and turn, unable to stop them. Some nights I get so restless that he wakes up. He never asks why I can't sleep, I think he knows. He just looks at me with understanding eyes and reaches for me. On these nights he gives himself to me completely.
He lets me wrap myself around his body and hold him tight. Not a word of protest comes from him when I squeeze too hard. He rubs my back and tells me that it's ok, that he isn't going anywhere. He always seems to know what I'm thinking, which is good, because sometimes I don't even know what goes on in my mind.
I'm so afraid of losing him. Afraid to lose what I've waited a lifetime for. When I hold him in my arms I know how right it is. I know this. But the moment he's out of my sight, I panic. What if he doesn't come back? What if someone takes him from me? The logical part of me says that he loves me and only me. The doubting part whispers that maybe he doesn't love me and is only playing with my heart. These thoughts disappear the moment I see him again, only to return again at night.
We became involved not long after meeting. I was drawn to him and he to me. Perhaps we were meant to be together. I know that I can never let him go. Not now. Not after tasting true love. I thought I was in love once, but she had other plans. After her, I made a promise to myself that I would never fall in love again. He healed my broken heart and made me whole again.
On nights like this, when emotions threaten to overwhelm me, he is there to reassure me. I can bury my face in his neck and hide from the world. I can take comfort in the warmth and solidity of his body beneath mine. I can show him how much I love him, how much he means to me, by making love to him. I have to show him because I can't always say it out loud. He understands how hard it is for me to say those words, but that doesn't make it right.
He always makes the same sound when I enter him. A soft sound that is a cross between and sigh and a moan. His eyes close in pleasure and he wraps his arms and legs around me, pulling me down until skin is touching skin. His arms tighten when I kiss his neck and he moans when I nip at his skin with my teeth.
He never complains when my thrusts into his body become rougher and faster. I can't help my need to claim him. The need to make everything about him mine. To mark him as my own, inside and out. He accepts this just as he has accepted everything about me. There is nothing but understanding in his eyes the next morning. And when I try to apologize for leaving a mark where it can be seen he kisses me and says the marks work better than a wedding ring ever did.
On these nights I thank God that I've been given another chance at love. Another chance at pure happiness. Another chance to trust someone again. But most of all, I thank God for sending Ray Kowalski to me.
The End