Cynthia wrapped her arms around him, caressing him as she felt him release inside her. He'd feel her breath, hot and ragged on his shoulder, as her pinned her twitching hips to his and they waded through the waves of ecstasy against each other. As he feverantly kissed her body, satisfaction followed through her, more than just physical. She embraced him, and he was hers, she claimed it in that moment. Her feelings for him were never as simple as when they fucked, and she'd find herself bare and vulnerable in his arms. She felt connected to him like this, in a silly, girly way that she would too be embarrassed to ever explain to him. But the sensation, call it contentment, or sureness of her safety, or love ... it was the only thing capable of silencing the anxiety in her head. It was the only thing that stripped down the protective walls she had built against him. She had built a lot of walls the last few weeks.<br/><br/>Guilt bit in the back of her mind. She shoved it away, melting against him. Her weight brought them down, her chest smushing  back on top of his, their bodies still entangled as she let the moment encapsulate them.<br/><br/>"Hey, stranger," she finally teased. She had missed this. The statement was clear as day, not needing to be said. The stress lines that had marred her face the past weeks were gone, her eyes less guarded. She was the old Cynthia again, stubborn and intent to follow her vow to return things to normal.<br/><br/>"That was hot." She grinned up at him, kissing his shoulder as she stretched for the food tray, her mind already back on bacon. Her nails skimmed the tray. With a sigh, she pulled off him and brought the tray to his head. She  took two strips and rolled to his side, rotating bites between each again.<br/><br/>"I think we've christened this bed well," she laughed, shoving all the bacon in her mouth and using a napkin to swipe her thighs dry and mop up his seed before she further soiled their brand new comforter.