WHAT HE MISSES

He keeps staring for the lonest moment, as I have something on my face that he can't wipe off. Or as if there is something he is searching in my eyes. He always searches them, and I doubt he has ever found whatever that he looks for in them. "No. You!"


His response to my prior question resonates with a depth that pierces through me, his voice a rich tapestry of emotions—deep, gravelly, and filled with a languishing intensity that leaves me breathless.

Butterflies erupt in my belly, like I have never heard such a sweet thing in my entire life. Simple things that arouse me. This love that I have for him makes everything so easy for him. He does not have to sweat looking for heavy romantic messages or move a mountain to make me warm up. No. Even a simple thing as an empty stare leaves me trembling with desire before him.

'I am not in love with our sex, but you, Ellie! And I am not obsessed with this sex. I just can't refrain myself from appreciating you the best way I know how. Every single atom of me yearns for you in every sense and aspect." he says, taking another tour around my face.


"I want you by all means, Ellie—may it be the times that we just talk about anything and everything and laugh our asses off, or the times we spend playing with ingredients, or the time that we just stare at each other with nothing to say, or the times that I have you trembling beneath me as we make love, or you being a controlling sub, or even the times that we annoy each other to the core. I love every sense of our moments. That is how much I love you, Ellie."

"And I love you as much, Damian. I love you so much," I whimper the three magical words for the very first time to him, gladly that I finally found my voice. And what an impact for its come back. I can't believe this.


Well, there was that one time when the words slipped out of my tongue. But that was just but a slip. Today, I know what I am sayoing. I formulated the words myself. And I feel like that was a load I had been carrying on my chest. Not it has beel lifted. I have finally confessed.

It's funny. I derived romantic, sweet names for him before he even made me feel this way. I called him love a couple of times during our sexcapades, never knowing that they were whiffs of how deep he had dived into me. I never even perceived a man like him would fall this deep for me. I am a desperate and broken vessel. I feel it, and I am certain that he is so deep into me just the way I am. He loved me, not because I am a Riccaford, but for the simple me. And for this reason alone, I want to remain this simple. To be his forever simple, weird Ellie!

"I love you more, Ellie," he mutters, and a faint grin sparkles on my plummeted lips. "Are you ready for this?" He says this, nudging me gently on the bed and hovering on top of me, scanning my face from above.

Is he really asking that? Should I not be the one asking because, well, is this what he wants? To ruin his straight suit and all the effort he expended fixing himself up for this? "If I say no to this, you won't force it?" I taunter him, enclosing a leg round him though.

"Just say the word and see how submissive I can get. Only to my special person," he responds, and I gaze at him. Sometimes I feel like it is a dream to have so much power over a man like this. I meant, it is too much, right? It's like he is the man yet I am the one driving him. I know he would kiss me gently, gently roll off me and even apologize if I said no. "So? Do you want me to get off you?" He implores when I take forever to respond.

"No, Damian. Make love to me."

He smirks, snaring my lips in yet another slow-burn, deep kiss that stirs all the desires in me, inciting a clash of desires. As he kicks his shoes off, I battle with his belt, helping him to strip as fast as possible so that he can pleasure me like he always does, but damn this suit of his! He chuckles between the kisses after sensing my desperation.

Hovering off the bed, he drops all the pieces of his clothes, and then he pinches his knees one after the other to the bed again and kneels at my feet, worshipping the beauty sprawled before him.

He stops, fixing his desire-coated dark orbs on my vulnerable lusted ones, his pheromones amplifying the humidity of the beautiful sunny morning.

"No. You!" He responds to my prior question, his voice deep, gravelly, and languishing. "I am not in love with our sex, but you, Ellie! Every single atom of me yearns for you in every sense and aspect. I want you in every single way that we make our time together memorable, and not just sex. I want you by all means, all means, Ellie-may it be the times that we just talk about anything and everything and laugh our asses off, or the times we spend playing with ingredients, or the time that we just stare at each other with nothing to say, or the times that I have you trembling beneath me as we make love or you being a cotrolling sub, or even the times that we annoy each other to the core. I love every sense of our moments. That is how much I Love you, Ellie." he slopes his forehead on mine, swaddling his palm around the back of my neck. Our moist lips are brushing each other, and we are breathing directly from each other's noses.

"And I love you as much, Damian. I love you so much," I whimper, and I just realized that it was the first time I am mumbling those words to him. I was so unable to utter these three simple words to him all those times I tried. But today I did, and it feels so good for them to roll out especially in this mood. "I love you, Damian." I emphasize.

It's funny. I derived romantic sweet names for him before he even made me feel this way. I called him love a couple of times during our sexcapades never knowing that they were whiffs of how deep he had dived into me. I never even perceived a man like him would fall this deep for me. Me, a desperate and broken vessel. I feel it, and I am certain that he is so deep into me, just like I am to him.

"I love you more, Ellie," he mutters, and a faint grin sparkles on my plummeted lips. "Are you ready for this?" He says, nudging me gently on the bed and hovering on top of me, scanning my face from above.

Is he really asking that? Should I not be the one asking because, well, is this what he wants? To ruin his straight suit and all the effoert he exorted fixing himself up for thi? "If I say no to this, you won't force it?" I taunter him, enclosing a leg round him though.