The day I stopped singing in the shower

Chapter 17: Stay

"I'm full." He said letting the plate on the living room table. We were sitting on the floor as we watched TV. The lights turned off, only the light of the screen illuminated the room.

"Me too." I sighed and stood up. I went to grab both of our plates and walked towards the kitchen to put them on the dishwasher.

I washed my hands after it and when I finished, I felt two strong arms wrapping my waist from behind. I stiffened as Ace began tracing kisses behind my ear and down my neck, his hand travelling down my stomach to stop between my legs.

"I have a plan for tonight." He whispered against my skin. I shivered at the sound of his deep voice, his breath brushing my bare skin. I closed my eyes, my breathing becoming heavier. He started slowly stroking me over my shorts.

This was not like the other times we did it. We normally would do it when there was alcohol involved, not really thinking. Well, except from that time in the car, but we weren't really thinking at that moment either. In this situation I was completely aware of his body, of what he was doing to me, and my heart was just going crazy. Feeling that pressure on my chest again.

"A- Ace." I muttered grabbing his hand and stopping him from continuing. I turned around avoiding his gaze.

"What?" He asked putting a hand on the counter behind me and the other one on my chin tilting my head up for me to look at him.

"I don't know, it's just-" I mumbled. I didn't know how to explain it. My hands were trembling a little bit and I couldn't stop them. "It's just different from other times, we're not drunk, we just-"

"So what?" He frowned. He cupped my face with both of his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. "We know each other now." His face coming closer, his golden eyes bored into mine. "Martina, it's just me."

I know. And that's the problem. I wanted to say. I sighed heavily and glanced at him under my lashes.

"Come on." He brushed his lips against mine and grabbed me by the hand guiding me to my bedroom. Once there, he closed the door behind him and pushed me slightly against it, giving kisses to the crook of my neck and licking it slowly. My breathing rating as he grabbed the hem of my sweatshirt and slid it up my arms and head slowly. He threw it to the floor and stared at me, his eyes searching mine. I grabbed his face gently and pulled him against me, slowly, slightly pressing his lips against mine. He was caressing my bare arms, sliding down my back and holding me tight by my waist. Our bodies were so close. I stroked his hair and continued kissing him, my body warming up with his touch.

He pulled apart and took off his shirt. I did the same with mine as I watched him. I wasn't wearing a bra and my nipples hardened when his body was pressed against mine again. He lifted me up, putting his hands on the back of my thighs and laid me down on my bed. Everything he did he did it so gently. I didn't know if it was because we were sober, but this time felt just different. Everything was slower, our hands discovering each other's bodies as if it were the first time we did it. He touched me with so much tenderness.

We was kissing my breasts and I was stroking his hair when he stopped at a particular spot and began to suck on it. Something coming up from my stomach as I realized what he was doing. When he felt happy with his creation, he pulled apart and smiled at me. His eyes wrinkling like in the picture he showed me before. A genuine smile.

And at that moment, I had a heart attack.

Just kidding, but almost. I put my hands around he back of his neck and pushed him against me, my lips feeling the urge to taste his again. We kissed like we were never going to kiss again. I needed him and he needed me, but we did it slow. He was here with me, there was no rush on it. We had all the time in the world.