Breathing For The First Time by Mary E Thompson

the bed, keeping control of him with each step. He lies down and reaches over to me at the side of the bed. He  wraps his hands around my hips and lifts me onto him, his strong arms controlling my small frame.
    I spread my legs as he lowers me to the bed, straight on top of him. I moan as he fills me, fitting into me like a hand in a glove. His eyes lock onto mine and he moves inside me.
    I rest my hands on his beautiful chest, twisting his nipples while we move together. He plunges deep into me, pressing into my sweet spot. I move with him, sliding up as he pulls out and dropping down onto him as he crushes his erection deep inside me.
    With each movement of his body the fire inside me smolders. Like rubbing two sticks together, our bodies ignite with the movement. He pushes me to the edge of sanity. My body tightens around him, letting me feel the movement of his erection sliding in and out. His thrusts match mine and he senses I’m losing control. Tyler grabs my hips and slides me up and down as he moves. I throw my head back and cry out his name, squeezing his nipples hard as my body explodes. I hear him groan deeply and feel his thrust deep inside me and the warm fluid rush into me from him.
    He keeps his grip on me tight until he stops shuddering. He releases his fingers and I collapse onto his chest, feeling his sweat against my cheek. His arms wrap around my back and his fingers caress my spine.
    I feel him shrinking inside me and start to get up. Tyler won’t let me go and pulls me down next to him, turning to face me, our bodies pressed together from head to toe. I bury my face in him and breathe deep, filling my nose with the smell of Tyler, and the love we just made.
    I fall asleep in his arms, no longer needing to dream about him, and sleep until morning.
     
     

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    Tyler
    Brooke has completely changed my life. I know it’s hard to believe when we’re only just beginning, but I’m a whole new person. Everything in life is easier, better, with her around.
    We don’t spend the night together during the week, but I’m with her on the weekends. It’s giving me a glimpse of what life will be like one day. We’re still getting to know each other, and every new thing I learn about her makes me fall in love with her even more.
    I walk into class and look around the small room. Our program only has sixty students so our classes end up being more discussion of theories and research than lectures. Brooke isn’t here yet so I pick a seat in the second row near the middle. Everyone knows we sit together and stays clear of Brooke’s chair.
    She breezes into the classroom just ahead of Dr. Stevenson, our professor. Brooke drops into her seat and gives me a quick kiss before turning her attention to the board.
    Dr. Stevenson commands the room simply by clearing her throat. She’s a petite woman with dark hair and striking blue eyes and is always wearing khaki pants and a brightly colored top, her hair piled high on her head and glasses framing her face. She’s very respected and liked by all of us.
    She begins the discussion about depression and my body tenses up. I know this is the reason I got into psychology, but it’s always difficult to hear someone talk about depression when they don’t know what’s it’s like firsthand.
    Brooke senses my emotions and slips her hand into mine. I turn to look at her and see so much compassion and sympathy that I feel my tension ease slightly. She gives my hand a gentle squeeze, keeping our fingers laced tightly together.
    I notice she’s not taking notes, but understand it’s because she’s holding my hand. I nudge her and try to get her to start writing, but she shakes her head and keeps her grip on my hand. My heart dances at the realization that she’d rather support me than worry about her grades.
    Dr. Stevenson is talking about the causes of depression and the treatment options. It’s hard to hear about the variety of things my mom has been through