Her hands are pulling my hair and her tongue is getting more dominant with each time it circles mine. She's warm -scratch that, hot- underneath my palms, even though she's wearing those leggings that pull my head in the gutter more and more and I swear it's the perfect way to end this day.

We're both panting which for me is a reaction I'd recognize from miles away, but it's the first time I hear her like this. Other times, it was different; she was more guarded. But right now it's as if she lets everything go, and it's making her even more attractive than she already is.

And like always, and just like I've told her bluntly a few moments before this, she's affecting me in every possible way there is. Mind, body, and soul.

At this moment, there is nothing I'm thinking about, except her. She's crawled her way into my head, and she is consuming me. All the things she told me have faded, even though the serious matter of those things is fucking important; they didn't stand a chance against her. She's everywhere. Her blonde hair and her grey-blue eyes added things to my life I didn't know I needed. Her courage to keep opening up to me and tell me what she thinks, and the way she seeks me more and more if she needs a talk, it's addictive. She's addictive.

She's got my body too; the moment she is close, I lose all control. My heartbeat quickens and my limbs seem unbridled, and the moment her lips touch mine my cock has its own damn life. It just does whatever the hell it wants, and she feels it every fucking time. But she still wants me close.

My soul. She owns it. It's hers although she doesn't fully understand that still. I'm dedicated to her and Daisy, and I know that from now on, I will put my life in their light. Everything I'll do from now on, I'll do it with the two of them in my mind. I'll do it to make them happy.

It's what crashed in when I went to work this afternoon. The realization that I left them in my house -fuck that, our house- for them. I walked those streets and my mind was with them. I worked today, knowing that I did it for them.

For Jo and Dais. My girls.

A soft whimper escapes from Jo's lips. It crashes the kiss a little, and it pulls me out of the heavy, sexual haze I'm in just slightly. I focus on her, and it's then that I notice that she's subtly moving her hips back and forth.

For a very short moment, I'm taken aback. Her mouth is still working mine frantically, and her hands in my hair are pulling a little more as well. And fuck, I don't ever want her to stop, but I know that I'll have to stop her anyway.

"Jo," I mumble against her, and right after she hums in response. She doesn't change the pace of her tongue or the grip on my hair; she's steady and determined, and I can't deny I fucking love it.

"Jo, wait," I pipe up again, this time pulling back my head so our mouths disconnect. My hands grip her hips firmer as well, and it's what forces her to open her eyes. Hooded, but we're having eye contact.

"What's wrong?" She breathes, her cheeks an adoring shade of pink that's not the red shade of embarrassment she had when she told me what she discussed with Alice regarding me.

"Nothing," I counter, wanting to reassure her even though she doesn't need it. "We just need to slow down."

"Why?" She whispers, her eyes genuinely confused. "Alice encouraged me to take control and do what my body tells me to do. That's what I'm doing, aren't I?"

Fuck, I love how gullible she still is after everything she's been through. Her pugnacity to overcome her trauma is so inspiring. Even now, in this situation, it baffles me. Her therapist advised her to take control, and because she wants to heal, she's brave enough to just do what her therapist tells her to do.

"I know. I know, love," I appease, lifting my sweaty palm to her heated cheek. "But I don't want you to do anything because you hope it will make you better. You need time."

Fuck, we both need time. I'm afraid I can't hold back once she starts, and she did walk away the last time she felt me. She assured me it wasn't me, but it still says something.

"But why does it feel like I don't need time when we're doing this?" Her eyes are boring into mine, the brutal honesty crashing every other sign of discomfort there might be. "When you're this close, I feel free from all the darkness that haunts me."

Christ, I want to be that for her. I want to do everything for her. And it's exactly the reason why I find myself asking, "What do you feel?"

She sucks in her bottom lip, her eyes casting down for a moment. When her lip pops free, her expression has turned to shy even though she still looks flushed. "I'm so warm. And there is this kind of pressure, you know. I've felt it before when we kissed, but I'm not sure what to do with it."

Her puffy lips are hypnotizing, her whole expression telling me exactly what kind of pressure she's feeling. Her hands are gripping my shoulders, her palms radiating the same heat that she no doubt feels from my hands as well. "What do you think you need?" My voice is low, my need for her dripping from the words. Jesus, I have to keep it in check. Focus, FT.

"I... I think... I think you know what I need," she whispers shyly, not looking at me. Her eyes are cast down once more, her tongue nervously wiping over her lower lip ever so often. It's driving me insane.

And fuck, all I want to do is tell her yes. All I want is to show her exactly what she needs, and show her what it's like, but it feels wrong. It feels wrong to touch her, knowing that she has no idea what she likes. She has no idea about her body or about what being touched actually means. And for some reason, I think it should be on her to figure that out first, before I touch her.

"I would love to, Jo, truly," I start, making sure she looks at me again by lifting her head with my hand. "But I think you should get to know your own body first. You need to figure out what you like, and once you know, there is nothing I would love more than to give you what you need. What you like."

I deserve a goddamn medal for not jumping on the opportunity. Here I am, throbbing like a mad one and my hands itching to touch her, but telling her she needs to figure it out for herself. This is the crazy shit that love does to you, I'm sure.

Her face falls, just as her hands move from my shoulders down so she can wrap her arms around herself. "Oh," she mumbles, clearly thinking over what I just said. The frown on her forehead appears and for a moment her eyes are staring instead of looking. "But I have no idea what to do."

"I can help you with that. I can talk you through it a bit." Jesus Christ, I have no idea when we took this drastic turn, but the way her eyes light up at my proposal tells me shit is about to happen. And I'm not fucking ready.

"What should I do?" Her voice is soft, but there is no hesitation whatsoever. It's quite a contrast; we are talking about something very serious, but the sexual halo around us doesn't fade. Her cheeks are still blushing, and both of us are breathing heavy. Screw it, talking about this the way we do now; it's fucking sexy, even though the reason we have to do it makes my blood boil.

Without answering her question, I pull her face towards me again and capture her lips once more. Her warm, lightly swollen lips that are a little wet because she ran her tongue over them.

I first nip my way through, teasing her a little bit. It's the first time I dare to do this in a teasing way; previously I did it to test the waters and give her the reigns. When her lips part and I slide my tongue inside, her arms move around my neck again, and I take the opportunity to pull her flush against me as I wrap my arms around her waist.

She whimpers, either because of the kiss or because of the pressure I have on my arms, but she doesn't seem to mind. She meets me enthusiastically, with every movement of her tongue she gets better, and I can tell she's just doing what feels good now, without thinking.

Her hips start to move again; it's a barely-there movement, but because I'm fucking obsessed, I feel it as if she's grinding on me like a pro.

When another heavy whimper slips out, I move my hands flat on her back over the shirt she is wearing. Now that we're steadily kissing each other, I can't help but take a little chance, and slowly slide my hands down to the hem of her shirt and then underneath the fabric up again.

Her skin is just as hot as I thought it would be. I trail my hands up further until my fingers meet the scar on her back. It's then that she suddenly seems aware of what I'm doing, and she pauses her kisses for a moment.

She does 't pull back; her mouth is still pressed against mine, but I can tell she is holding her breath. I've touched her before, in the shower, and she told me that the scar didn't bother her. Was that a lie? Does she not like my hands on her bare back like this?

"Is this okay?" I mumble.

She nods as she pulls away so she can properly look at me. "Yes. I like it." I can tell she is being sincere. Her blue-grey eyes are a little darker than they normally are which only adds to her words.

And then, she slides her arms from my neck again, but this time she determinedly moves her hands to the hem of her shirt before pulling it over her head in one swift motion, without any hesitation.

She throws the fabric on the floor behind her, her face crimson but her eyes never looking away. I can only imagine what I must look like now; wide eyes, an open hanging mouth, hot cheeks, and it feels as if I'm having a fucking heart attack.

"I'm sorry, I-" she starts. Fuck knows why she apologizes. I think it's because I didn't react fast enough, but I cut her off by kissing her again, and thankfully, she participates just as enthusiastically as before.

"Tell me if it's too much," I say against her lips before giving her one more peck. I then kiss her chin, and slowly trail slightly open-mouthed kisses down until I reach the side of her neck. And when she moans, she almost ends me.

Her skin is soft, her scent intoxicating. I nuzzle my nose from her ear to her pulse point, enjoying the way a shiver seems to run over her back. And then I kiss my way to her ear again, making sure I don't miss a single inch of her long neck.

"Hero," she whimpers. It's a fucking plea for more, and all I can do is moan in answer. We're not even doing anything explicit, but with her, it's so fucking intense, I'm in sensory overload.

"What? Tell me, Jo?" I ask her, my throat dry and voice hoarse.

"It burns." She sighs, one hand lacing in my hair while the other grips my shoulder firmly. Her hips are moving back and forth again, this time a little more pronounced and not as secretly.

"What burns, love?" I whisper. "Your neck? My mouth on your skin?" I know it's not what she means, but I need her to talk to me so I can make sure she is okay.

"No." She slowly shakes her head to give that one word more power. "There." She nods her head, and although I'm not looking, I know what she is referring to.

When I pull back to look at her once more, I hardly recognize the woman that's staring back at me. Her eyes are hooded, and she looks like a damn vixen. It's almost too much to process, knowing what she's been through.

"Are you bleeding still?" I ask, and her eyes widen in horror as she didn't expect that question. Honestly, I didn't expect to ask her this randomly, but it popped into my mind when she started moving her hips, and I need to know if she's still sore.

If she is, this whole thing I have in mind can't even happen.

"I... Umm, no," she answers. "Two days now."

I nod once. "Are you still sore? From giving birth?"

"Not really. I mean, a little," she mumbles. "Why?"

I inhale deeply, trying to form the correct words. "Give me your hand," I eventually settle on, and right after she pulls her hand from my shoulder and lays it in mine. It's another sign of how she trusts me, and I feel fucking ten feet tall.

"What you need, is for you to figure out," I start. I then kiss the palm of her hand before guiding it south. "When you touch yourself right here," I continue, laying her hand against her legging-covered warmth, making sure it's only her own hand that's touching anything, "Your body will help you to figure out what you like. What you need for that burn you feel to subside."

A soft "Oh," leaves her lips. Her tone sounds somewhere between wonder, shock, and also slight panic. "But I don't want to... When they pushed inside me they-"

"Shh," I hush, shaking my head. No fucking way we're gonna talk about them right now, at this magical moment. Fuck no. "Not inside, love. Just where it burns."

She looks hesitant still, but she hasn't moved away her hand. It's still laying flat against her with my hand over it. "Will it hurt?"

"No," I tell her immediately, not showing a single doubt because there isn't any. I might not know every little detail about what they did to her, but I do know they never touched her properly. They were there to inflict pain, and there is no way they have touched her where I want her to touch herself. "It will feel good. Just relax and listen to your body."

"Okay," she breathes, but she doesn't move an inch. She's shy and stays still, and to distract her and mostly, to bring her back into that lustful haze, I kiss her again.

Very quickly, we fall back into the previous state, and when I once again trail kisses down her neck and throat, I feel her shift before her arm starts to move.

I've shut my eyes as I wipe my tongue over her skin, savoring the taste. Her skin is so damn soft, it feels amazing against my tongue, and I allow myself to wonder if every part of her will feel this soft.

She whimpers, one hand on my chest steadying herself by gripping the fabric of my shirt. The moment I take her lobe between my lips, a hushed, "Hero" is audible, before she moans.

She's moving back and forth again, I feel it clearly because my hands are once again laying on her hips. "How does it feel?" I ask her, dying to know if what she does to herself feels as good as I thought it would be.

"It's okay," she answers, and that's when I pull my face from her neck so I can look down at what she's doing.

I find her hand still at the same spot as where I put it moments ago, and from what I can see, all she does is press against herself. Of course, that only feels okay.

"Here." I grab her hand once more, moving it flat on her belly. My heart is going insane inside my chest, the whole sight in front of me -her tits that almost spill out of her bra and her soft belly- the most erotic thing I've ever seen. "Slide your hand in your leggings." I encourage her with a small nod and move her hand in the right direction.

And while she keeps her eyes steady on me and with her lip trapped in between her teeth in concentration, she slides her hand into the fabric that covers her.

"Press your finger where it burns," I direct. I'm panting like an idiot, and I feel sweat dripping down my back. Fuck, I should've taken off my shirt.

When Jo gasps and her eyes widen, I know that she has found the right spot. She looks at me in wonder, her tongue sliding over her lip from left to right.

"You feel that?" I can't stop talking to her. It's because she doesn't say anything; I need to have that contact with her.

She nods in answer, and a small smile forms my lips. I can tell it overwhelms her, and the fact that she isn't even moving yet, makes this quite fulfilling for me as well.

"Now, slowly circle your finger around that spot," I instruct, and then bow my head again so I can connect my lips with the other side of her neck.

I can feel the exact moment she starts to move her finger. Her hips buck forward, and a weird sound comes from her throat. Her hand -that's still gripping my shirt- pushes against my chest, and her head falls back as an "Oh Gosh," falls from her lips.

"There you go," I chuckle. I feel weirdly proud, and at the same time, I feel fucking privileged to be present in this moment. That she allows me to kiss her while she tries to figure out what she likes.

"Hero, this is..." She tries to form words but they die in her throat. A moan follows, and I trail kisses to her shoulder as I take the band of her bra along with me.

"I know. Just explore. Feel," I mumble against her skin, enjoying the way her breathing properly changes now.

When the band of her bra falls off her shoulder, I start kissing her collarbone, making my way to the middle. I kiss the hollow of her throat, dipping my tongue in it and feeling how she swallows. Her head falls back again, granting me better excess.

Her hips are moving faster. They slide over my upper legs, ever so often she even bumps against my erection, and I swear that if she keeps this up for a little while longer, I might blow. This is insane.

"How does it feel, Jo?"

She whimpers, her head bowing so her hair falls too, creating a veil around my head that's still level with her throat. Her nose presses into my hair, and then she whispers, "Good. Different. Weird. But good."

I grin, kissing her skin again and then I look down. Her tits are fucking amazing. I know what they look like, and since last night I know what they feel like too, and all I can think of now is how they would taste. I know it's too early and that this experience should be about her, but it's fucking tempting. I just have to dip, and I can cover the swells with kisses and licks.

I'm seconds away from doing it when Jo her moans become more persistent. "Hero?" she pants, this time in question, and when I hum and lift my head to look at her, I can tell she is close instantly.

Her eyes are hooded, but her pupils scream confusion. Does she know what will happen? Does she have any idea what her body will do if she keeps rubbing herself?

"Hero, what's happening?" Her voice is hoarse, just as it is after a heavy make-out session when she tells me we should go to sleep.

"It's okay," I reassure her, wrapping my arms around her waist once more. "Just give in."

"I don't know if I can," she breathes. "What if... Is it? Oh."

She closes her eyes, squeezing them shut right before her mouth forms in an O, and I watch her. I witness how her head falls back again, her long throat perfectly on display. I feel how her hips start to buck uncontrollably, and how her hand that holds my shirt frantically pulls. I feel how her legs clamp themselves against mine, and when I look down, I see how her belly clenches.

And it's then that I realize; I won't ever get tired of watching her do this. Even if she's never ready to let me touch her, and even if we won't ever have sex because she can't fight away that trauma, I'll be content anyway. As long as she grants me the honor to watch her do this, I'll be the happiest man alive.

She's an angel.

Shocks are shooting through her body, but her moans stay surprisingly quiet. She just sighs and whimpers, ever so often a very soft moan comes through. It's fucking perfect.