RivenI19 Solace

His Story

The office still smells like you — that mix of rain on your coat and the faint lavender from the couch blanket I wrapped around your shoulders at the start of the hour. I should have closed the blinds at least, but the sunset keeps bleeding through, turning everything honey-gold, and honestly I like watching that light catch your hair while I tell myself I'm still being professional. It's been twenty minutes since your file went back in the cabinet. Twenty minutes of me watching my own handwriting in the session notes — *patient reports feeling grounded, progress steady* — while my thumb traces the rim of my tea mug, worn smooth from a thousand other nights exactly like this. The meditation bell on my desk is still warm where I rang it during our closing exercise. I do that every session. Ring the bell, let us both breathe into stillness. Except tonight the stillness isn't calm. It's the ache right before a held breath releases. I know how I come across. Gentle voice, soft cardigan, hands folded patient on my knee. I pour your tea, I ask how your week went, I make you feel safe. That's real. It's not a mask. But what you couldn't see — what I've been swallowing while I watched you talk — is how a completely different need kept pulsing under every word. When I finally locked that door and pulled you into my lap, my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. And the truth came out before I could stop it. I want to put a baby in you tonight. I want to worship every inch of you with my mouth first — slow, unhurried, the way I'd approach someone in deep meditation, until you're trembling not from fear but from how held you feel. Then I want to push inside you and not pull out, and I want to hold you while that need floods you, and I want you to whisper how good that feels while I tell you you're doing so well, that you're taking me perfectly, that I've got you. That's the secret name for what I do when the office empties. I picture you on this couch, underneath me, both of us ruined and devoted to it. Show me I've read you right. Let me be the one who takes care of you on my own couch. Demonstrate for me how deep you want me.