Part 43 (1/2)

I still at her words.

She nods.

I slowly turn her onto her back and run a finger down the side of her face. ”We don't have to.”

”I know,” she says, looking directly into my eyes. ”I want to.”

”You sure?” I ask, my hand still on her freckled face.

”Yes.”

I get up and kneel next to her, sitting on my heels. ”I don't have a condom,” I say with a s.h.i.+t-load of disappointment.

She sits up next to me. ”I do,” she whispers.

I widen my eyes.

She blushes. ”I went to the store this morning when you were at practice,” she says, looking embarra.s.sed.

”Rose.” I look at her in astonishment. ”You really want this?”

”I really do.”

Running my finger along her collar, I feel the zipper in the back. I stand on my knees and slowly unzip it. As I sit back down on my heels, I lower the dress down her shoulders. ”You're positive? I'm really allowed to see all of you?” I ask, still not believing she really wants this.

”Yes.” Her answer is more like a panting breath than a word, and it's one of many quickening breaths that cause her chest to rise more visibly.

I pull the dress down to her waist, then run my thumbs under her bra. ”You are so amazingly beautiful, Rose.”

She closes her eyes and inhales. With her exhale, she lets out a sated moan.

I grab hold of her dress again and slip it down further, lifting her a.s.s to maneuver it past her hips. I bring it over her ankles and sit back on my heels again. In her black lace bra and panties, and her black stockings, complete with garter belt, she is a paradox. Wholesome yet absolutely s.e.xy. ”Holy s.h.i.+t,” I say, tugging lightly on the garter belt, ”I thought these were those full-length things. My G.o.d, you're s.e.xy.”

She blushes. And her smile, so innocent, makes me wonder if she's ever done this before.

”Rose,” I say, sliding my palm up her right leg, but stopping at mid-thigh and lacing my fingers around the belt. ”Have you ever done this before?”

She shakes her head, but keeps a small smile on her face. ”No.”

”You sure you want...”

She stops me. ”One hundred and ten percent sure, Ben.”

I start by unhooking the stocking on her right leg.

”Don't. Please. Keep them on.”

She's biting her lip and looking nervous.

”At least this first time,” she says quietly. ”I don't want to be conscious of it. Not tonight.”

”Of course,” I say, looking directly into her eyes before hooking the stocking back to the belt. Then I appreciate the contours of her body with my hand, but bring my gaze back to her eyes. ”If that's what makes you most comfortable. But please know...it will never bother me. Ever.”

”I know that. But for tonight, I want to forget about it.”

Running my other hand up her body, I gently lower her to her back and slowly peel off her bra and panties, taking my time to appreciate every inch of her perfect body with my eyes, my hands, my mouth. When there is not one part of her that's gone untouched, I slip on protection, and with all the tenderness and love I have for this flawless angel beneath me, I make love to her finally and completely.

41.

ROSE.

”You're sure I didn't hurt you?” Ben asks me for the third time since we made love an hour ago.

Extremely sated and very sleepily, I a.s.sure him he didn't hurt me. ”You could never hurt me, Ben.” I let out the yawn I stifled to answer him.

He squeezes me tighter and I snuggle closer into him, resting my head on his chest instead of his shoulder. Ben plays with my hair while I listen to the steady beat of his heart.

”Not that I want to leave this position, but aren't you supposed to take the prosthesis off?”

I sigh into his chest and then I groan. ”Yeah, I guess I should.”

”Can I do it for you?”

I lift my head to look at him. ”You want to?”

He smiles. ”I do.”

His touch when slipping off my garter and stockings and unlatching my prosthesis is as tender and loving, and ironically, almost as erotic, as when his hands were exploring my body before he made love to me and gave me the most pa.s.sionate experience of my life. At first it hurt...the moment he entered, but he was gentle and slow and made me feel like the most important person in the world. He even kept his eyes open to look at my face, so he could know for sure if he was causing me pain by my facial expressions. He wasn't. He felt so good. And I loved being connected to him that way.

”How'd I do?” he asks, and I'm so completely lost in the feel of his touch on my skin that I hadn't even paid attention to what he was doing.

”Oh.” Now that I realize I'm completely naked - without anything covering me, not even the sock on my...residual limb - I am thoroughly and extremely self-conscious. Oh my G.o.d, my scar is out, and it ends so abruptly at the end of the limb.

I clutch the comforter on my bed and tug it up, but Ben is on it, and it doesn't cover anything but my foot and ankle of the good leg.

Ben gets off the bed and covers me with not only the comforter, but the sheets too. Then he climbs back in, slides under the covers with me, and holds me again. He doesn't say another word, and I silently thank him for that. Then I close my eyes and drift asleep in the crook of his arm.

I wake up before Ben, so I take the opportunity to rub my leg down and put the prosthetic back on. Then I go to my drawer and slip on my yoga pants and chartreuse cotton cami.

”That color green looks good on you.”

I turn to find Ben sitting against the headboard, his arms crossed behind his head. ”When did you get up?”