The cloth slips over soft skin.
Down.
Down.
Down, until it rests in the crook of her bent elbows. Her bra is white lace, see-through. Her hardened nipples strain against the material. She doesn't lean forward to kiss me, just continues to sit where she is, pushing against the strain in my jeans. She is not shy like she once was, back when we were fumbling hands trying to work out where to put what.
Autumn pulls her arms through the romper and it falls to her waist, exposing her taut, lean stomach. She reaches behind herself, unclasping her bra and pulling it away from her body, dropping it on the couch beside us.
I'm confronted with more beauty than I remember. Her dark hair spills over shoulders, cascading in soft waves down to her breasts. Pert, pink nipples become even stiffer in the open air. My eyes travel lower, down to her bellybutton. There is a small, round scar in the place where a piercing used to be.
Autumn arches her back again, grinding against me, offering her chest. "Touch me, Owen."
I don't need the direction. I'd only been admiring her alarming beauty and my luck at having her here again, but it's good to know how much she wants this. Wants me.
I reach up, cupping my hands around her full breasts, brushing my thumbs across her nipples.
A whimper slides from her. "More," she gasps.
My hand runs the length of her back, and in the same way I urged her closer to me when she was seated beside me, I urge her body into the space between us. At the same time, I lean forward, gripping tightly to her waist, softly sucking the bud of her breast into my mouth. First one, then the other, and Autumn's hands are in my hair, fingernails dragging.
We are in the cover of darkness out here, nobody to see us except the stars overhead, but I want to take her inside to my bed. As difficult as it is, I wrest my mouth from her skin and wrap my arms beneath her ass, hoisting her into the air as I stand.
"Oh," she says, surprised, her legs tightening around me.
"Bed," I grunt.
"Yes," she whispers, pressing her mouth to my neck as I walk to the back door and into the house. I use my foot to close the door behind me, capturing her mouth with mine at the same time. Our wet tongues clash with urgency as I walk, and more than once we bump into the wall. Each time makes us laugh, but not for long. This hunger, this thirst, is too needy.
Finally, we make it my bedroom. I set Autumn on the edge of my bed and take a step back. She watches, halfway undressed, as I reach behind me and pull my shirt over my head. Her eyes travel over my skin and she reaches out, beckoning me closer. As I step into her reach, she grasps my jeans, unbuttoning, then unzipping, sliding them down my body.
She sticks out a bent leg, using her foot to push my jeans all the way to the ground. Reaching down, I remove my underwear, and here I am, standing in front of her fully in the knowledge that, just like me, she's seeing the person I've become since we've been apart. I'm not just bigger, stronger, tattooed. I've had experiences, grown, learned lessons. Just as she has.
Leaning over, I push gently against Autumn's shoulders until she is lying down in the center of the bed. My hand glides up the inside of her leg, and when I get to the apex, still sheathed in clothing, her muscles tighten. I cross over, dragging my hand down the inseam of her other thigh.
Autumn's hands fist my sheets. "I can't take it," she says, her tone pleading.
A sly grin crosses my face as I bend, placing my lips at the inside crease of her knee, feathering kisses up her thigh. Heat radiates from her center, and when my lips reach that part of her, I breathe deeply, adding my own hot breath. Her hips lift, the fabric of what's left of her outfit pressing against my mouth.
I grasp the bottom half of her outfit in two hands and swiftly pull it down over her hips, taking her matching white thong along with it.
After discarding them, I stare down at her. She is naked, gloriously naked, and in my bed. How many times have I envisioned this, only to be overtaken by reality, a reminder that my chance at my greatest love had passed me by?
Reaching out, she grabs my hardness and starts to softly stroke it up and down, making me lose all train of thought. Autumn's tongue darts out to wet her lips, and she bites the bottom one gently. As new as this grown-up version of Autumn is to me, I know what this means. She is done talking.
Well, good. So am I.
I lean forward, one knee coming to rest on the edge of the bed. Both hands scrape across Autumn's smooth skin, riding up her thighs, gliding over her hips and into the middle of her body. My eyes on hers so I can watch her, my fingers drift down lower, dragging through her wet heat. Her legs splay open wider, her gaze urging me on. Soft mewls drip from her mouth, and when I can't take it anymore, can't go another moment without feeling her, I sit back, reaching into my nightstand and grabbing a condom.
Autumn lifts her head, watching me roll it on. A memory creeps in, reminding me of before, of how she always looked away at this part.
The memory disappears as swiftly as it appeared.
I hover over Autumn, hands on either side of her head, pressing into the mattress. We are nose to nose, pounding heart to pounding heart.
Autumn's fingernails dig into my shoulders.
"Are you ready?" I ask, lightly nudging her nose with the tip of my own.
"Yes," she says, the word fractured by her heavy breath.
With one thrust, I fill her, and I'm transported to a time when life was easy, when loving Autumn and going to class was all I had to worry about. She moans with pleasure, her nails raking down my back.
Her body feels just as I remember.
I seize her lips with my own, kissing her deeply, my tongue searching.
Her mouth tastes just as I remember.
We part for a breath and I inhale deeply, my nose pressed to her hairline.
She smells just as I remember.
"Owen," Autumn moans, her hands gliding over my back, down over my ass, gripping me. "You feel so good. Better than I remember."
"For me too, love," I murmur, a small part of me realizing I've just called her the name I used to use before. If she notices, she doesn't say anything.
I'm not fast. I'm not slow. This isn't fucking, or making love. It's two battered hearts meeting in the middle, finally finding solace from pain caused long ago.
I reach between us and swipe my thumb over her most sensitive spot, rubbing small circles there. Dipping my head between us, I lap my tongue over her nipple and she moans, deep and guttural.
Autumn's legs press into my thighs and her muscles begin to quake as I continue my rocking motion. Her breath comes in waves, one on top of the other, her chest rising and falling in faster tempo. I increase my pace, setting a fierce rhythm, and Autumn explodes beneath me. I hold her, kiss her mouth, swallow her sounds, making certain I've drained her of every last drop of her orgasm.
She kisses me with ferocity, winding weak legs around my lower back. I try to hold off, working to bring her to another high, but I've just held my love in my arms while she went to pieces beneath me, and I can't stop it from happening.
Forehead pressed to hers, I fill her completely one last time, my heartbeat erratic. My muscles stiffen and jerk, and this time Autumn kisses me, drinking in my pleasure.
Sticky, sweaty, sated, I collapse on top of her with my heart beating wildly in my chest. Autumn keeps her legs wrapped around me, running her calf up and down over my backside.