His hands are skimming my sides, sliding down to my waist to pull at the elastic waistband of my pajama bottoms, desperate and frantic, and I can't help but respond to the intensity of it.
My hands tangle in his hair, my body arching into him as his mouth moves up to my neck, teeth grazing my skin just enough to make me gasp.
I shiver and so does he. It's like he's unraveling, coming undone in front of me, and I can feel the raw emotion, the hunger, in every touch, every kiss.
It's dizzying, consuming, and I can't stop myself from wanting more, even though something deep inside me is still trying to caution me that this is off.
I silence that inner voice once and for all as I lift my hips enough for him to pull my pants down. He takes the underwear with it in one go, kneeling over me, leaning back and hoisting my legs up to get it all off and out of the way.
I let out an undignified little squeak when my bare butt hits the couch and Derek bears down on me, his hands on my thighs, spreading them open.
The light from the hallway barely reaches us, but I still feel incredibly exposed.
My stomach flips as liquid heat rushes between my legs, a jolt of pure desire. Derek is staring intently at me, at the parts of me usually hidden under the covers when we make love in the dark, the way we have been for at least a year now. Our sex life has become a little routine, a little stale even, I can't lie, which makes this all the more tantalizing.
He lowers his head, whispers: "God, you are so beautiful, Skye, so perfect, I need you so much." His breath ghosts over my skin, warming it further. I'm already so flushed and so wet for him.
*Derek is mine,* I think, feeling my arousal mingle with a jolt of possessive satisfaction.
*No one can ever come between us, no one.*
This is the confirmation I needed. Nothing else matters but this moment.
He buries his face between my legs and I let out a soft whimper as his lips move against my most sensitive places. Derek rarely pleasures me like this and I already can't get enough, sliding my hands into his hair, gripping those soft blonde locks and pulling him close.
This, to me, is the peak of intimacy, the kind of contact I've been craving.
I tip my head back, my neck on the armrest, and sling the leg that isn't planted on the floor over Derek's shoulder, my heel pressing into his upper back.
This is what I savor: the heat building inside me, each stroke of his tongue like oxygen to a flame, his hands on my thighs, their strong, possessive hold on me, tethering me to him as my heartbeat quickens. It's exhilarating to be this close to him again, to feel his devotion, his hunger for me.
I hear myself moan, fingers winding into his hair as he laps at me as if I'm the most delicious meal he's ever had.
"Derek..." My voice is a wisp, a thin thread spun from desire and fulfillment. It's born of the ebb and flow inside me, the ache his touch leaves me with every time he pulls back just a little and the searing joy whenever he returns. It's building inside me.
"Please..."
He pulls away, licks his lips and I whine at the loss of contact, at the sensation of cool air slipping between us. My skin is taut, every cell of my body awake and yearning for him.
Derek leans back, one hand braced on the couch, the other reaching to pull down his pants. He's still fully dressed in his strange miss-matched outfit, but his urgency is hot to me. Seeing his erection spring free, I hold my breath, a shudder of anticipation running through my body.
"I need you, Skye, right now."
His eyes meet mine, not so much asking for permission as they are drinking me in. I still nod. I want him to know that I'm his. I never ever want him to doubt this.
He moves on top of me and I bite down hard on my lip as he sinks inside me, my toes curling at the pleasure of him plunging into me like I'm his safe haven, his home.
I wrap my arms around him, my fingers digging into his flannel shirt. His body is hot like a furnace and I feel myself quiver around him, my breath coming in short shallow gasps.
The couch creaks as he starts to move, his body bearing down on mine, the sweetest invasion.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck and whispers my name so reverently I feel like I might fly apart from the way the sensations fill me up. My eyes flutter closed. All I am right now is the point where we're connected.
There is nothing else. Nothing but holding on to him, nothing but the build up that feels endless, eternal almost, the way he touches the deepest parts of me. The sound of his ragged breaths, the way they heat my skin, my pores drinking them in.
His soft grunts, animal like in their rawness and me wrapping myself as tightly around him as I can, holding on for dear life as he gives me all he has.
"I love you so much," he breathes and I feel that blissfully torturous tension dissolve in a rush of overwhelming pleasure. A cry escapes my lips and I let myself be swept along in the push and pull of him. His grip on me tightens, right there on the precipice between pleasure and pain and he makes a low, wounded noise as he stills on top of me and then collapses.
I hold him for a long time after, our heartbeats thrumming as one.