Finding It - Sex Stories

Finding It

... return his hug, and relish how right it feels. "I owe her a huge kiss for bringing you back to me," he murmurs against my hair. "As long as it's not on the lips, I might get jealous," I joke. He quietly chuckles as he pulls back slightly to see my reddened eyes and blotchy cheeks. The tears now falling are of relief and joy, yet I cannot seem to stop them. "Stop that,” he gently says, watching one fall before running his index finger down my cheek. “Sorry, sentimentality,” I try and lighten the mood, causing him to smile. Closing my eyes, I sigh as he presses his lips on my flushed cheek, making my heart jump at his touch. My hands hold his hips so I stop them from trembling. “I have never wanted to make you cry,” he murmurs, softly kissing a stray tear away from my face. “You’re doing a good job of it now. Mark, what I said earlier tonight, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” I whisper, cherishing his touch against my skin while his lips brush over my forehead and eyelids. “Shush, none of that matters now. Nothing matters but you and me,” he whispers. Raising my gaze, I blink the remaining tears away to look into his gorgeous green eyes. “Can I kiss you?” he asks so quietly, I can barely hear it. I nod gently and he immediately lets out a breath before catching my mouth in a deep kiss. Quietly groaning, he treasures my lips in that all-too familiar way that make me feel like the centre of his world. I lose my breath with his kiss in that unique way that has my toes ...

... curling. He slightly breaks away but his thumbs continue caressing my cheeks. I notice his stunning eyes are dilated. His breathing is as deep as mine. I begin to feel warm and with every stroke along my cheekbone, my heartbeat quickens. His eyes flicker between my mouth and my eyes, leaving me wanting for more. In a beat, I tangle my fingers into his hair and push my mouth onto his, capturing it in a passionate kiss so suddenly, he stumbles slightly but quickly and insistently kisses me back. With a desperate groan, I feel his tongue stroke along my lips and I open my mouth to eagerly meet his, intensifying the kiss. Mark buries a hand into my hair while indulging in my lips. Bracing my arms around his strong back, my heart swells in reconnecting with the only person who has ever captured my heart. “God, I love you,” he moans. His hands move to unzip my sweatshirt, while he starts urgently kiss my throat. “Sorry, I smell a bit from cycling,” I hoarsely say, trying not to pounce on him. “Does it look like I give a fuck?” he quickly says, pulling my sweatshirt off before bringing me in to deeply kiss me. As his tongue strokes alongside mine, he unclips my hair so it tumbles in a mess around my shoulders. He runs his fingers through my strands, pulling me closer. I kick off my trainers and socks and he swiftly lifts me off my feet to move us towards his bed, pulling aside the separator curtain of muslin in the process. His deep breaths follow each reverent kiss, stirring my blood ...