Page 45 of Not Another Love Song

Moving her.

Like musicians do.

She thought of Alex Fitzgerald, his torso twisting with the violin. Hilary Hahn’s elbows dipping through difficult stanzas. Yo-Yo Ma’s closed eyes and shaking head.

She could feel his ribs expand, breathing into the music, and then he rolled into her again like waves in the ocean of this song. Lulling her.

The vibration of the music humming through his chest and into her spine was intoxicating. She found a rhythm of her own against his body, eyes drifting. Their bodies were rolling together, sensually. At the picking section, she felt his right hand tapping against her waist, whether consciously or not, finding the notes against her body.

And then.

And then.

Breath on her neck. His face turning slowly into her hair. Lips plucking across her skin, dragging like the bow in her hands.

She sighed, the room swallowing it. Swallowing her whole.

His fingers stayed light on her waist, and it only heated her further, her body starting to move in directions just to feel more pressure from him.

She slowed to the ending resolution, and she could feel his lips hovering over her skin, as if asking permission. She started over without pause, back to the beginning.

Don’t stop, she told him with the bow.

His lips grazed her ear. And the tension in the arpeggios sailed, her fingers knowing them so well, she could close her eyes as his tongue pressed to her skin.

She flowed into the slow peace of the second section, and his right hand slid across her stomach, pressing his palm to her.

She hummed in harmony.

The chair vibrated under her, teasing her open legs. He shifted against her at the tempo change, and she gasped to feel him hard against her back. His lips sucked slowly on her neck.

Her arms shook with fatigue and something else. And the music drifted through her, coiling inside.

She began to pluck at the strings. His fingers danced over her waistband, and she knew what came next. She bobbed her head in a small nod, feeling her cheekbone brush against his jaw. His fingers dipped into her leggings.

Her knees squeezed the cello braces on either side. And her ragged breath brought her back against his chest in short waves, pressing them together.

His fingers tumbled down, sliding beneath her underwear and running through her. Her head was spinning, eyes fluttering, and she couldn’t even hear the music anymore, just the sound of his breath, harsh in her ear.

Rubbing her, drifting across her clit, as she switched back to the bow. His lips kissed wetly at her jaw, sucking at her.

Her hips rolled against his fingers, the bow jumping off the strings for a moment, and he groaned into her skin, his hips pressing forward tightly against her backside, and his left hand squeezed at her side.

A frenzied pace. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the sheet music, building to the end as his finger slipped down and pressed lightly at her entrance. She moaned, tilting her head onto his shoulder, playing music only she could hear, and just as he pushed inside of her, his other hand ran up her stomach to cover her breast, squeezing her close to him.

The song was almost finished.

He slid in and out of her, her muscles twitching and her legs pressing tight on the braces.

His tongue lapped at her neck, his fingers ran across her nipple, and his thumb twisted to press at her clit.

“Alex.”

Her hips jumped, clenching his fingers inside of her as she came, deliciously. Her arms shook, pulling the bow across the strings. The tonic. The resolution.

Her thighs shivered against his. Her throat clicked around air. Her core fluttered in time with the vibrations in the room.

His fingers slipped out of her, his other hand running slow circles around her breast through her shirt, his lips in her hair.

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