Join Prism Book Alliance® as we countdown to GRL 2015 with a very special flash fiction from Author Felice Stevens.
(please note: all rights to these prompts remain with the artist)
I woke up to a touch. His hand glided over my cheek, palm warm and comforting. I opened my eyes, reluctant to emerge from sleep, yet anxious to see him. He’d been away on business and I’d missed him the last few days. I never slept well until he was home and next to me in bed.
His unwavering dark eyes held mine and my heart pounded in steady thumps. I slowly slid my hand across his leg and his stare intensified and grew hungry. He cupped the back of my head, his hand spanning my neck and my body shivered in response. He neither spoke nor smiled yet I knew what he was thinking, what he wanted.
I’ve always known.
Hips to hips, chest to chest and heart to heart, I was safe and secure when I was held in his arms. I nestled closer, settling against him, finding that perfect spot where my body fit against his, like that last piece of a puzzle.
I was complete.
The first time I saw him at the gym, I knew. He was broad and muscular, biceps bulging underneath his smooth brown skin. I wanted those arms wrapped around me, holding me all night long. I smiled at him but he didn’t smile back.
I waited until we were the only ones left and he went into the shower. When I heard the water running, I opened the curtain and stepped inside joining him under the spray. And when we were soaked, I slid my hands up his smooth chest and kissed him.
A year later and here we were, naked in our bed, bodies humming with a passion I’d never known. No man had ever set my blood on fire like him. And though I knew the taste of his skin and every curve of his body, each time he touched me it was as if it was the first.
His lips hovered over mine and I ached for his kisses. It was torture, yet I knew it would be worth it in the end.
“I missed you.” The words sounded so inadequate.
“You did?” His lips touched mine, light as a breeze. “How much?”
“More than I can say.” I held him close, my lips finding the curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. I inhaled breathing deep, imprinting the smell of his skin, his musk, his essence in my blood. “Did you miss me?”
He wasn’t a talker. Physically strong, he was quiet and chose to show his passion in different ways, whether it was the brush of a hand against my face or kisses down my back. I’d often look up from reading to find his gaze on me, serious and steady.
I didn’t expect him to answer me; waking up in his arms was enough. But he surprised me then by straddling me in the bed and hovering over me, his eyes boring into mine. Hips to hips, chest to chest and heart to heart.
“Of course I missed you. I love you.”
I stilled, my heart beating madly.
“You’ve never said that before, why now?”
His kissed me then, and unlike before it was hard and all-encompassing. It left me gasping for breath when he finally broke free. The
“I don’t know. I came in and saw you sleeping there and it hit me then, that this is home and home meant love and you.”
“I love you too. Welcome home.”
I have a number of paperbacks, most of which are signed, to giveaway. Over the between now (11 Mar 2017) and 31 Mar 2017, every comment on the blog (this post and all other new posts), will be entered to win 1 of these paperbacks. There are also some misc swag items, so there will be a few packs of these to give away as well.
Thank you so much for your support over the last 4 years. Prism will be closing its doors on 1 April 2017. All content will remain available, but no new content will appear after 31 Mar 2017. As such all request forms have been turned off. Again Thank you,
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