GAHRYE
When Kalle came out of the bathroom he was already sprawled on the bed, still fully clothed, one arm under his head, staring at the ceiling.
She hesitated, then tried to smile. Gahrye just patted the quilt next to him. "Come lay with me."
Kalle sighed, but crawled up onto the bed and nestled herself into his side, her head on his shoulder. He could feel the tension in her, smell the sadness and fear. But neither of them spoke. He didn't know how to start the conversation.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked quietly a moment later.
Ah, so that's how she meant to begin. Gahrye smiled and told her the truth. "Do you remember our first time?" His voice had gone rough with a combination of emotion and desire. Kalle went still, then leaned up on one elbow to look down on him, smiling.
His mind tipped back to that day, so long ago now, when he'd felt like all his dreams were coming true…
He had been lost in her. Time ceased to matter. All he was aware of was her lips, her tongue, her soft, soft skin, the beautiful blush of her nipples—the fierce peaks of them against his chest, and under his hands—and the warmth of her gentle strength as she pulled him down.
Gahrye trembled with the fight to restrain himself, to keep himself gentle and slow, to let her warm to him. But as the kiss deepened and her breath came faster, he struggled. Fisting his fingers in her hair, he tugged her head back and laid his mouth on her throat, groaning when she gave it willingly, her hands dancing all over his back and shoulders as she panted.
She tasted like honey and lavender and he shuddered again with repressed desire.
When she whimpered and clung to him, his entire skin lit up.
Panting, he pushed himself up just far enough to meet her eyes and raised one eyebrow, stunned and smiling at the way her lips were pink and swollen already. "Have you ever mated an equine before, Kalle?" he asked before he laid the flat of his tongue on her neck and sucked that spot just under her ear. Her skin pebbled all the way down her arm and she arched.
"N-no, I—"
"Then my advice," he rasped pushing himself back up, bracing on his hands, either side of her head, "is to just let go… and enjoy the ride…"
Kalle's voice—now a little lower, a little richer than it had been in those days—yanked him back to the present.
"You had such a great line," she sighed.
"A line?! That was no line!" Gahrye pretended to be offended.
Kalle giggled genuinely. "I was so unsure of you back then, but I wanted you so bad. Every time you'd take your shirt off my body would literally ache."
"So you're saying I don't make you ache anymore?"
"Come on, Gahrye. You know that's not true. And I'm grateful for it every day." She leaned down to kiss him softly. "You still make my stomach flutter, and I love it," she whispered.
He grinned up at her, enjoying her smile—enjoying the way her skin crinkled at the sides of her eyes. And the way there was the odd strand of gray in her dark hair. She cursed every time she found one and pulled it out. But Gahrye loved them. They were the markers of their life together.
They stared at each other and her smile dissolved. But her eyes didn't shine with grief, they locked on his as she stroked her fingers down his cheek. Gahrye wasn't smiling anymore either as she leaned into his chest and her breasts plumped against him.
He reached across to stroke the side of the firm rounds over her sweater. Kalle's lips tipped up on one side as she leaned into the touch.
Gahrye's breath became shallow. "This is going to be a nightmare, Kalle," he whispered, their eyes. "Before I go… I want you. I want to get lost in you again. I want to forget about all of this for a little while and just be with you."
For an answer, she tilted her head and stroked a hand down his chest.
"I feel like we're overdressed," he said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
"Well, all this talk about the old days made me think maybe you want to head to the library," she murmured with another smile. "I'm sure I can find a pile of books on a table somewhere for you to dramatically sweep aside."
"I was never dramatic," he grumbled, pulling her into his side and sliding his hand under the waistband of her leggings so he could stroke her ass.
Kalle snorted. "Gahrye, I love you. You are my favorite person in the world. My husband, and my mate. But honey, you were a walking ball of angst back then. You breathed drama. Where do you think Reece gets it from?"
"Oh ho! She's bringing out the big guns!" Gahrye growled and rolled her over, pinning her to the bed.
Kalle laughed and kissed him, quick and firm at first. But when he opened his mouth and teased her lips with his tongue, she sighed and deepened it.
It had been a long time, he realized, since he'd just kissed her. Laid her down and made out with her like teenagers. So, as Kalle's arms came around him, he set to the task of stealing her breath with his kisses. But that inevitably led to his hands under her sweater… then both of them sitting up so they could take their shirts off… quickly followed by Gahrye rolling off her to remove his trousers, and Kalle sliding off her leggings, reaching for him, an edge of grief flickering in her eyes when he was apart from her.
But then they fell into each other arms, each others bodies. He knew hers as well as he knew his own—but this was a night for making sure. For exploring. For savoring. He was in no rush.
Let the kids sweep books off tables. In over twenty years together, Gahrye and Kalle had learned the joy of the unhurried touch, the building tension, the hips that sang together in a slowly building shiver.
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