Believe in This

The following morning, it was the sunlight peeking through the curtains that roused me. As I slowly woke up, I registered the arm wound tightly around my waist and the calm breathing hitting the base of my neck. After that, it didn’t take long for the previous night’s event to hit me full force.

The feel of Benedict’s hands tracing the lines of my body, the way his lips worshipped every sliver of skin, and the way my body responded like never before to the attention he so willingly lavished upon me.

Turning my head to the side, I gazed upon Ben’s sleeping face, his visage the picture perfect image of calm and content. His lips were slightly parted and his curls askew on the top of his head but for me he never looked more beautiful. Placing a light kiss on the tip of his nose, I managed to extricate myself from his hold, rummaging around through the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed and slipping on the previous night’s pants and the black shirt he had been wearing.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, I made myself at home in Ben’s kitchen, remaining as quiet as possible while rummaging through his cabinets and fridge for food. Standing in front of the stove ten minutes later, attending to the French toast I was making, arms wrapped around my waist and lips attached themselves to my bare neck.

“I was going to treat you to breakfast in bed but I guess that plan’s been shot down.”

Letting out a chuckle that sounded like music to my ears, I turned my head just enough for him to press his lips to mine and had it not been for the smell of the French toast I would have probably let it burn in favor of retreating back to the bedroom or the nearest piece of usable furniture.

“Did this plan involve me using your body as a plate?”

“No but I’ll put that away for usage next time.”

After a few more seconds, well minutes, of snogging Ben left me to set the table while I finished up our food. Bringing the plate of French toast over to him, I was a little taken aback to find only one plate and two glasses sitting on the table.

“Um, is this your way of telling me you want me to leave?” I asked making a joke though in reality thought did cross my mind.

Taking the plate from my hands and sitting it on the table, Benedict quickly pulled me down into his lap, situating me so I was sat crossways across his legs with my feet dangling over the side of the chair.

“I don’t know any man that would dare tell you to leave, much less one that’s madly in love with you.”

I couldn’t help but turn my head in astonishment at the words that had just flown from Ben’s mouth. Of course, they had coursed through my thoughts more than once, usually as I laid in bed at night and thought of how close I felt to him, the way in which my pulse sped up whenever he was near, and how slowly but surely my dreams of getting married and having children were turning into dreams of marrying Benedict and growing round with our child.

“And am I to conclude that you’re the man that’s madly in love with me?”

“I wouldn’t hear of any other. I know we’ve only been dating a short while but I do love you Charlotte. I’ve watched myself become a better man around you and for the first time in three years I’m beginning to picture a future for myself, a future with you in it. I don’t expect for my feelings to be reciprocated but . . . “

Before Ben could even continue I cut him off, pressing my lips to his and nearly knocking both of us out of the chair as I did so. Pulling away from him, I put a finger to his lips shaking my head with a smile upon my face.

“It just so happens that I love you too so there’s no need to even finish that sentence.”

Gently taking my finger away from his lips, he laced our fingers together before pressing his lips to mine with just as much ferocity as I had previously done. Turning myself around, I was soon straddling his lap, his hands tugging at the hem of the shirt I was wearing as our lips moved together. We separated just long enough for him to pull the offending garment from my body before we resuming our previous actions. Before long, Ben was lifting my body up, sitting me on the edge of the table and sending the empty glasses clattering to the floor. I barely had time to push the plate of food away before he was laying my body back upon the piece of furniture and using his tongue to venture his way down my body.

Needless to say, the French toast had to be reheated by the time we got around to breakfast.