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The first thing I'm aware of is the sound of an electric engine, softly whirring past outside, and the slight clink of glass. It's a sound which conjures up a memory of early mornings getting up with Uncle Ted, ready to go sailing, and I rock my head into the pillow slightly, enjoying the reverie.
I think to myself that I didn't know milk floats were still a thing, then I notice how comfortable I am. The cotton pillowcase beneath my head is so soft, and I can smell something that brings other memories to mind. Narciso. Liberty's. Your face.
I breathe in deeply as I recall where I am, and what led me here. Your naked body is curled into me as I lay on my back, and the rise of my chest as I inhale makes you shift in your sleep, your head nestling into my shoulder and your hand slipping over my chest. I can feel the press of your breasts against the side of me, and my right arm is underneath you, a little numb. Not even deciding to do it, I run my hand a couple of inches up the small of your back.
The subtle curve of the hollow there is so warm and soft, just like the rest of you. You shift again, this time your leg drifts over my thighs. Again, I feel the softness of you, especially your inner thigh against my copious leg hair.
I was so scared when I came here last night. I'd been scared since we'd talked earlier in the day and I'd thought you might be leaving. But I'm not a coward, I don't run from what scares me, not when it really matters. And you matter to me, so much.
I couldn't tell you how I felt for so long because I thought it would ruin everything. I knew I had to tell you when I might be losing you anyway. I'm not even sure I'd got to the point of hoping you'd want to hear it. I just knew I had to speak up, because I already have enough regrets about not being able to say how much I love people I can't say it to anymore.
I don't think you believed me at first. I think you thought it was some sort of test, a left-field way to connect to one of our cases. I remember it crossing my mind that I could get away with deflecting into a pretend misunderstanding, but I didn't want to piss you about.
I roll your words around in my mind.
"But I'm… I'm so ordinary. I didn't think you…"
I still can't get over how you didn't know. I'm not sure I believe that was what you meant. You must have known.
I sigh, and pull you closer, putting my closed mouth against your hairline, and you murmur something in your sleep I don't catch. I think that you did know, but you didn't let yourself believe it. Not like I don't understand that impulse.
But, fuck, look at you. You're beautiful, you’ve made all my hopes possible, and you're laying in my arms and I couldn't want you more. Ordinary? I've never known a woman so incredible.
I'm wide awake now, and the sensation of your warm skin against me has created a predictable morning reaction, and it's just above where your thigh is draped over me. I’m reluctant to move, but I know that’s not going down easily while we’re like this. I indulge myself in wondering what this would be like if we were together a while and I knew I could just turn, wake you and light you up like I did last night, but I already know the only other condom I have is still in my wallet, which is still in my trousers, crumpled at the foot of your bed, which feels about three miles away right now.
I remind myself I don’t have to cram everything in all at once, and that if I get up for a piss and a smoke, you will still be here when I return with a morning cup of tea for you. And actually, thought of waking you with a cup of tea hits almost as sweetly as waking you with something harder.
I try to shuffle from under you, but I’m not a man who can easily sneak around, and my clumsy efforts only succeed in rousing you. You blink and lift your head a little, blue-grey eyes focusing on me, and then you give me a languid smile.
“Hello,” you say softly, putting your head down on my chest again and flexing your fingers in the hair there.
I’m not going anywhere now. Maybe ever.
“Morning,” I reply, squeezing you into me, and kissing your forehead. The motion of pulling you closer shifts your thigh, and you brush against my erection, and you say, playfully quick,
“A very good morning to you.”
I grin - no point being bashful, is there?
“Sorry, it’s a morning thing,” I say, in case I’m coming across as a perv.
“Oh right, thought it might be because of me. We’ll just leave it then,” you say, and I laugh in surprise at the way all those nerves I felt from you last night have just fallen away, revealing the funny, clever woman I know so well.
“Well, I don’t know as that’s a good use of resources,” I return, and I can feel my heart has sped up in anticipation now I know I don’t have to distract myself to make it subside.
“You know how efficient I am, I appreciate that,” you say, and your hand is already there, and you’re taking hold of me. Damn, you’re a quick lesson, too, you remember the pace I showed you last night, and I suck a breath in through my nose.
“Don’t be too efficient,” I growl, because as nice as a handjob would be, I have other plans now you’re awake.
I run my hand up your arm, feeling the flex of it as you work me, and I don’t want to stop you, but I want to kiss you too. I turn your face up to me and put my lips against yours. You nip at my lower lip. You really are a revelation this morning. I worried last night that I’d been a bit so so. I’d wanted to blow your mind, give you the very best of me, and as I felt sleep claim me so quickly, I knew I could have done better.
There really is no hurry now, though, and the end of the bed suddenly doesn’t seem so far away. I shift my weight, onto my side first, and you don’t stop moving your hand, and your determination is sexy as all fuck. Then I ease you onto your back, grinning against your mouth and stilling your hand. I’m nowhere near yet, I could let you continue and just luxuriate in the way it feels, but I want to do things for you. When I’d watched you come against my hand I’d known I’d discovered a new obsession that I wasn’t keen to get over.
But I know I’m even better with my mouth.
“It’s good,” I assure you, amused by the slight pout you give me, “but I want to do something for you.”
“We can’t just do it to each other?” You ask, and I realize you think I mean using my fingers on you again.
“Robin, you can do whatever you want to me,” I tell you, placing kisses along your clavicle and then down onto your breasts, and I shift my body, continuing down, but slow enough for you to halt my progress if you don’t want me to. I hear a little gasp, and I lift my eyes to you, even as I’m flicking the soft skin of your belly with my tongue.
I’m relieved to see eagerness in your face, half your lower lip bitten in. You weren’t expecting this, were you? You nod slightly, your eyes sparkling, and I am more certain than ever that I love you.
I’m between your legs now, and as I settle myself, running one hand over your belly as I bend my head down, I note you’re holding your breath. I want to make you lose it. I listen to each sound you make as my tongue connects with you, tasting you gently at first, feeling the rock of your hips as I find the rhythm that kicks for you. I slip and curl one finger into you, closing my mouth around the part of you I’ve found that seems to be having the best reaction, sucking a little as my tongue moves, and your hands are in my hair and tugging, your thighs pressing against my ears. It gives the effect of being underwater, but I know I’m giving you what you need because I can still hear you, barely muffled, and I throw my eyes up to you to see a flushed bloom rising from your chest into your face as you completely lose yourself. You’re repeating my name, mostly Cormoran, but then you say Strike too and I know exactly where I’m going next. While you’re still in a daze, still muttering incoherent versions of my name, I fish my trousers from behind me on the floor, retrieve the last condom, and roll it down myself quickly.
Before you’ve come all the way down again, I’m beside you, and I spoon up behind you.
“Is this ok?” I whisper into your ear.
“Oh god it’s all ok, Cormoran, please, do it all to me,” you say, in a kind of delighted resignation. I shift to get the angle right and slip into you, and the feel of your bum backed up against me as I work my hips is fantastic. I want to make you come again, because I think you’ve never had it happen like that before, and I want to be the one who gives you all the best times of your life. I reach round with my hand, caressing the part of you that I know will still be tingling from the touch of my mouth, and you make the same sounds that were my cue before.
I press kisses into the back of your neck, and you’re making little panting yelps, like every sensation is a surprise to you. I keep going, reading each of your tells, storing them away for every moment in front of us, and eventually we begin to climb together. We’ve hit a beat now that connects for both us, and I can feel it building and I think I’m probably going to be noisy because fuck it, this is amazing, you are amazing, oh god, Robin, you’re everything, fuck yes, fuck, yes, yes, yes.
I’m still breathing, right? I should still be breathing. I gasp in air because I think I just stopped breathing, because you pulled everything from me, and I can’t think straight. As I regain control of myself, I can feel myself slipping out of you, and reach down to sort that out, but only for a brief moment, and then I snuggle you again. It sounds like you’re purring, making a happy little humming burr noise in my arms. My heartbeat is returning to normal. My heart is completely yours.
“I suppose we have to get up at some point,” you croon softly, but you don’t sound in any great rush.
“Didn’t I mention? This is our life now, we’ll run the business from your bedroom in between all the sex,” I reply, deadpan. You enjoy that.
“How about we run the business as normal, but we have all the sex too?” You return, and I enjoy that.
To think I was scared that what I felt for you would destroy everything. I’m not scared anymore. You are everything.