He looked tired, beaten down as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. I took one of his hands, my fingers lacing with his, as my other hand brushed his hair from his face.
‘Dont, I dont need mothering” he muttered, jerking his face away. In any other instance I would have been hurt by his rebuke, but I ignored him.
“I am not definitely your mother,” my voice was light and teasing, “and I am not mothering you.” I stroked his cheek, his jaw. “You look worse for wear. Come here.”
Before he could protest, I touched his mouth with mine. Letting my lips linger. His mouth was cold, flavoured with coffee. I gently traced the outline of his lips with my tongue, taking a tender bite of his lower lip.
He groaned, the sound filling my mouth as he took over the kiss. I had meant the kiss to be soothing, there was nothing left of that. I was startled by the ferocity of his mouth.
The way his tongue and lips took control of mine, his hands were almost punishing on my arms. When he heard me whimper in delight, he eased his mouth off mine, his eyes dark with need and something else.
“I missed you,” he said, his breath heavy on my mouth. ” Take me to your bed and fuck me til I forget everything.”