He kissed me again, his breathing still ragged, and he lifted himself a little to slide out of me. But I stopped him with a firm grip around his torso. "Don't," I buried my face into his hair and mumbled, equally out of breath. "Stay … Just a little longer."
He paused, letting out a soft chuckle at my silly request, and obeyed. Keeping us together, he carefully rolled over so that I was on top of him, resting my head gently against his shoulder. "Make yourself comfortable then," he offered.
I smiled and rubbed my cheek against him. Even with a thin gauze of perspiration gilding his body, he still smelled fresh and soothing, still felt divine to the touch. Maybe even more so with the proof of our passion sheening against the sunlight filtering through the curtains. I hugged him tighter, and I couldn't be more thankful for the blissful feeling of being with him like this again. A luxury that I once thought I had lost forever in this life.