Vignette 1
I lay on my side in the dark, unable to sleep. I restrained myself from tossing and turning as I wanted to, afraid that it would disturb her. She was at the far edge of the bed with more than enough room between us for propriety, but still I swear I could feel her body heat along my back. Burning me, searing thoughts and images into my head that had no right to be there. I shifted my weight uncomfortably for the dozenth time and heard her give an exasperated sigh.
I was used to sleeping on couches, and so had trouble sleeping without somthing pressed against my back. She knew this, had in fact teased me about it earlier in the day. I could only assume that she thought that was the problem when she moved over to me and snuggled into my back, softly whispering, "Better?"
I supressed a shudder at the feeling of her warm breath on the nape of my neck, her breasts nestled into my back, her slender arm draped over my waist.
"Yeah." I whispered hoarsely, but she heard the lie in my voice, as she always could.
"What's wrong?" The concern in her voice was nearly as shattering as the feel of her fingertips as she unconsciously stroked my stomack beneath the edge of my shirt. It was meant to be comforting - it was anything but.
I didn't answer her. I couldn't. Not without voicing everything that would send her running in the opposite direction. I knew I should have grabbed her hand and stopped its movements. Those undescribebly soft and gentle fingertips were quietly and thouroughly destroying what little control I had left. My mind screamed at me to stop this now, before it was too late - but it refused to obey.
At my continued silence, she gently tugged on my shoulder. Once again my body betrayed me, allowing her to roll me on my back. Allowing her to see my eyes, where I know my need was shining through. Where she could see everything I had kept from her for so long.
Terrified, I looker at her, her eyes a darker shade of green than I had ever seen them. For a moment, an eternity, our gazes locked. Then her lips were on mine. Softly, unsurely. Indescribably sweet. Without thought, helpless to do anything else, I returned the pressure. All too soon, she drew away and wordlessly traced my lips with her fingertips. I slowly raised my hand and cupped the back of her neck, my thumb tracing her cheek and a question in my eyes.
She leaned over me again, the kiss surer this time. I trembled with the effort of holding back, of keeping the kiss relatively chaste. I so wanted to trace her lips with my tongue, so wanted to seek and explore, to find more of that glorious sweetness. But I didn't want to overwhelm or frighten her, knowing that this was new to her.
Finally, just when my control was breaking yet entirely too soon, she retreated and droped her head onto my shoulder. We lay like that, still without speaking, until her panting breaths against my neck evened out in sleep.
Laying there I stared at the cieling, trying the impossible - to ignore her crisp, clear scent, the softness of her hair beneath my cheek, how right her body felt against my own, the taste of her still on my lips. Eventually, I slept.
Author's Note: Thanks to emiliana001 for pointing out my confusing typo. :P