Putting on my brave face, I decide it’s time to get out of the bath. I’ve been in here for quite a while, and I have run out of wine. I step out and wrap myself in one towel, while running the other through my hair. I look around and see my dirty clothes from the day lying in a pile, and I realize I don’t have anything else to put on. I walk to the door an open it just a crack. “Hades?”
“Yes?” I hear from the other side of the door.
“I don’t have any clean clothes to put on…” I announce anxiously. If what I think is going to happen tonight actually happens, should I really be worried about pajamas? Probably not, but I don’t want to walk out in just a towel.
“Oh, right. I can snap up something for you. What would you like? Silk? You deserve to feel silk on your skin. I think I’ll get you silk.” He’s babbling on, clearly as nervous in this situation as I am. This is new territory for both of us.
“Actually,” I decide to be bold, “I would rather just sleep in one of your t-shirts.” I hold my breath, waiting for his response. I truly would like that, as it would smell like him and be large enough that I wouldn’t feel overly exposed. I wait a minute, and he still hasn’t said anything. “If that’s okay with you?” I add, losing some of my bravado from his silence.
“Yes, of course,” he clears his throat, and a moment later slips one of his t-shirts through the small opening in the door. I unwrap the towel from around me and slip the shirt over my head. It’s very large on me, and falls almost to my knees. I feel like a child playing dress up, but I also feel very much like a confident woman wearing her lovers clothing.
Before I chicken out and ask for actual pajamas to wear, I step into the bedroom. Hades is sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands clasped together and his eyes cast to the floor. Upon hearing my entry, he quickly glances up, and a sexy smirk crosses his face. “I think that looks better on you than it does on me,” he jokes.
I walk toward him and step into the space between his legs, wrapping my arms around his neck. Without a word, I capture his lips with mine, and run my fingers through his sot hair, mussing it so it’s no longer in its perfect style. His hands rest naturally on the backs of my thighs, and I shiver at the contact. I take control of the kiss and deepen it, and I can feel his surprise, though he doesn’t protest. Slowly, I trail my hands down his perfectly defined, muscular chest and abdomen, until I reach the hem of his shirt. I wrap my fingers under it and begin to pull up. Lost in the moment, he doesn’t even hesitate as our lips part only long enough to pull his shirt over his head.
My fingers explore his torso, every crevasse they have longed to touch but have never had the chance. How is it possible that all of this was hidden under a shirt? Hades is more perfect than any statue ever carved of a man, and he’s all mine. Slowly, his hands begin to travel up the back of my thighs, until he is almost at my bottom. I’m craving his touch everywhere, feeling the burn where I desperately need him to be. I want this, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want him, all over me, touching me in every place he can reach.
I take my hands off of his chest and reach for the bottom of the shirt that I’m wearing. As I start to pull up, his hands leave my legs and capture my hands, making me stop, and he breaks the kiss at the same time. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice husky from his obvious want of me. If it weren’t obvious in his voice, I would know by the growth in his pants where one of my hands has been stopped by his. As if realizing where he’s put my hand, he quickly releases it.
“I thought – I mean…” I hesitate, trying to find the words around my embarrassment of having to explain myself. He sighs, and runs a hand through his hair.
“Believe me, I want to. But I don’t want to rush this. You deserve to be properly courted, to be cherished. I don’t want to take you on our first night together like you’re some whore I’ve brought home for the night.” Disappointment flows through my body, and all of the need I felt just a minute ago vanishes. I shift my eyes downward, not brave enough to look him in the eyes. “Hey,” he puts a finger under my chin and lifts my head so I’m forced to look into his eyes. “I want this to be perfect for you. I want it to be on a perfect, romantic night. It’ll happen, I promise. Just not tonight. Tonight, I just want to lay in bed and hold you in my arms. Can we do that?”
I take a deep breath and try to push aside my embarrassment. I nod, wanting nothing more than for him to hold me in his arms and comfort me right now. I push aside the sting of rejection. He wants me, the evidence of that was pretty hard to ignore.
He slides back onto the bed and pulls me with him. Huddled closely together, we only occupy a fraction of his large bed, but I don’t dare point this out for fear that he won’t hold me as tightly. I lay my head on his chest and listen to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat until I fall asleep wrapped in his strong arms.
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