Page 13 of Love You Like That

He let me take it off. Let me see him fully. And then he stood there, just breathing, looking at me. “I ever tell you,” he said, voice rough, “that you scare me a lil’ bit?”

I blinked, breathless. “Why?”

“’Cause I don’t let people get close.”

“And... I’m close now?”

He nodded. “Too close. And yet, not close enough.”

I stepped back and peeled off my top slowly and let my skirt fall to the floor, never breaking eye contact. Ezra’s gaze dropped to my chest, my stomach and the slow sway of my hips as I walked toward him again.

“Then fix that.”

He met me in the middle of the living room, his hands sliding up my arms, cupping my face. He kissed me softer this time, slower like he wanted to memorize me with his mouth. “You sure?” he whispered against my lips.

I nodded. “I don’t invite men here. Ever.”

He kissed me again. “And I don’t usually let myself feel this much.”

“Then maybe we’re both overdue.”

Ezra picked me up with a quiet growl, his hands under my thighs, my arms locking around his shoulders. I kissed his neck as he carried me through the space and past the candles, the plants, the soft light, and into my bedroom. He laid me down on the bed like I was breakable.

“You look like a fuckin’ dream,” he muttered, eyes raking down my body.

I reached for him again, desperate now, aching. His clothes disappeared piece by piece. First, his jeans, and then everything between us got lost but it wasn’t rushed. It was slow, intentional and drawn out in touches and grazes and sighs. Ezra took his time.

His hands mapped me like he was discovering new land. He kissed the inside of my thighs, my stomach, between my breasts, and everywhere else. I moaned his name when he slid two fingers into me and watched the way I unraveled.

“You so damn wet,” he whispered, mouth hovering over my core.

“Please,” I breathed, shaking.

He lowered his head and kissed me there, slowly and deep, tongue soft and purposeful, like he was praying with it. I criedout, gripping the sheets as his mouth worked me open, coaxing wave after wave until I was arching, trembling, begging.

“Ezra… oh my God…” He didn’t stop until my legs shook and I pushed at his head, breath ragged. And when he finally slid up my body, kissing my lips again, I could taste myself on him. “I want you,” I whispered against his mouth. “Now.”

“You got me,” he said.

And when he slid into me, slowly, thick, and deep, it wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, damn near spiritual, like two people who had been cracked open finally found shelter in each other.

We moved in rhythm with his forehead pressed to mine, our breaths tangled, our bodies speaking where words couldn’t. He grunted my name, whispered curses into my ear, and kissed my shoulder when I trembled under him. And I held his face in my hands as I came again, locking my legs around him like I never wanted him to leave. He followed right after with a loud and raw groan. A sound like surrender.

When it was over, he stayed on top of me for a long time just breathing and holding me. His face buried in my neck whilestill deep inside me. And I whispered something I didn’t even mean to say out loud.

“I don’t know what this is yet… but it feels like everything.” He didn’t flinch. He just kissed me again and held me tighter.

S h ew a ss t i l lasleep when I woke up and I wasn’t in a rush to change that. Yavanni laid on her side, one leg tangled in the sheet with the other bareand the curve of her thigh catching a sliver of morning light sneaking through the half-open curtains.

Her locs were messy now with some falling across her cheek, others fanned across the pillow like a crown undone. She had one arm tucked under her head while the other stretched toward where I was laying like even in sleep, she knew I was there.

I hadn’t meant to fall asleep but after the way we moved round after round last night, like two people finding home in each other’s core, sleep came fast.

I loved the way her space smelled just like her.All warm and sweet with hints of oil and citrus. Eucalyptus from the diffuser on the dresser. Something soft and floral clinging to the sheets. I’d never been in a place that felt this feminine and this grounding at the same time.

And Yavanni? She looked like art. A fucking masterpiece like something you didn’t touch unless your soul was ready. I reached out and gently brushed a loc off her cheek. She didn’t stir. Just sighed a little in her sleep, her lips parting.

I could’ve watched her like that all damn day but I was thinking too much. Thinking about how fast this happened. How natural shit felt. How the second she kissed me, I knew I wasn’t walking away from this like it was casual. It wasn’t. Not even close.

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