Page 207 of Perfect
She whimpers and arches up into me, her hands running over my neck and chest, her expression becoming concerned.
“Teddy, are you okay?” I nod, staring down at her as I roll my hips and push deeply inside of her. “Theo, stop.” I freeze, looking for any signs that she’s upset. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Nothingiswrong. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” Iamokay. “I’m just really fucking happy.”
Oh.
That’swhat I’m feeling.
Alex starts tearing up, pushing my hair back from my face.
“Me, too.” When I kiss her again, it’s like I’m kissing her for the first time. Being with her now feels so different, like we’re truly connecting for the first time. I give her everything I have, and she gives me everything of herself in return, and there’s no place where I end or she begins – there’s only us as a whole. I lock eyes with her as she starts to come undone underneath me and takes me down with her, and my vision goes black for a second from how intense it is.
Everything seems soft and slightly out of focus as we lay together afterward, our foreheads pressed together and ourbreath mingling as our hands wander over each other. We stay there for a long time, staring at each other, touching each other, feeling our connection resonating between us, just being together again. I pull her into my arms as I roll to my back, and every ounce of worry and anxiety and tension washes out of me.
Lying there with Alex, I feel fuckingpeacefulfor the first time in my life.
“Okay, sweetheart,” I say, kissing her forehead, “I need to eat some actual fucking food, and then I’m going to spend the rest of my life buried inside of you.”
***
I don’t care that the hollandaise isn’t lemony enough, that the eggs aren’t perfectly poached, or that the potatoes aren’t seasoned the way I would prefer. The food is much better than anything I’ve eaten in a year, excluding Alex, and I’m too distracted to enjoy it anyway.
Alex looks happy as I stare at her sitting across from me, and that’s all that matters. Her ankle rubs against my calf, and I trap it between my legs, making her laugh. We sit there for a long time, not speaking, enjoying the moment.
She gets up and pulls me to the bed, kissing me and stroking me until I’m hard before dropping to her knees. I try not to let her see how nervous it makes me, but she doesn’t seem to notice. I watch her for any signs of distress, but she’s so relaxed and engaged that it becomes almost impossible to do anything other than enjoy what she’s doing.
She does it differently now, and I already know what I can and can’t do. I cup her face gently, keeping my touch light as I press my thumbs into the hollows of her cheeks and feel my cock sliding in and out of her mouth. All it takes after that is looking down at how her lips are wrapped around me and the soft blushspreading across her cheeks as her wide, pretty eyes meet mine. She moans in delight as I come in her mouth, and she sighs contentedly as she swallows, like she’s missed this as much as I have.
I pull her into my arms and spend a long time showering her with affection and praise afterward, because I know she needs it.
There’s one letter Alex wrote me that detailed things she needs me to know butneverwants to talk about, things that are off limits, things I can’t do or say anymore and why not. She didn’t visit for two weeks after I read it, not because I didn’t want to see her, but because she didn’t want to see my reaction, which was fair. I couldn’t calm down for a long fucking time. When she did visit after that, it was the first time we’d lied to each other since everything happened, because we both said we were fine.
I make her lie on the bed and masturbate for me afterward because she does that differently now, too, and I want to see what’s changed. I watch her closely, and when she’s a panting, needy little mess, I start tying her up because she begs me to. I don’t use handcuffs, I don’t tie her hands behind her back, I don't use the ball gag she brought, and I take my time and watch her like a fucking hawk, but she’s relaxed and excited.
I spend a long time making her come any way I can, watching her closely, noticing what she does and doesn’t react to in the same way anymore. It takes longer than it used to, but for the first time in a year and a half, when Alex cries, it’s because she’s overwhelmed the way she wants to be.
When she slips into a slightly dissociative state, the look on her face isn’t the blank, tired look I’m afraid to see, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. She looks soft and dreamy and a little smug, the way she always looks when she’s been fucked right.
I ignore how hard I am, how much I want to be inside her, and how much Ilovefucking her when she’s like this as I untie her, and I pull her into my arms and hold her. I kiss her and trailmy fingers up and down her soft skin, telling her how perfect she is, how gorgeous she looks, how much I fucking missed her, how much I love her, and how happy she makes me. She lays in my arms for half an hour before she comes back to herself, and then she starts sobbing because she wasn’t sure she’d getthisback.
I wasn’t sure she would, either, but she fucking does.
***
We’re not used to constantly fucking anymore, and we’re both exhausted before noon. Alex lays in my arms, holding me tightly, her head tucked against my neck and her leg slung across my waist. I run my hand up and down her thigh, my fingers passing over the scars there, and sharp anxiety creeps back into my body.
Now that I’ve got her back, I’m never letting her out of my sight. I can’t let anything bad happen to her ever again.
“Baby?” Her question is soft and quiet, and her lips move against my neck in a way that makes me shiver.
“Hmmm?”
“If you ever go back to prison, I’ll kill you,” she murmurs. I laugh and run my hand up her back, kissing her temple.
“The only way I’m leaving your side from now on is if I’m dead, I promise.”
“Does that promise come with a ring?” I try not to react until I realize that there are no prison guards and no stupid fucking rules, and I can be as excessively affectionate as I want when she says something like that.
