Fear of Falling

wanted to ask her if she was ok and soothe her if she had a nightmare. But before I could, I swear I heard her moan and nuzzle into my chest like a cat finding that sweet spot on the couch. She felt incredible in my arms, but more than that, it felt like she was comfortable there. Like she was made to be there. And that made me feel 10 fucking feet tall.
    I kept my breathing level and my eyes closed as I felt the very tips of her fingers brush against my arm. At first, it was just a simple touch. I almost thought she had fallen back to sleep and was unaware of what she was doing to me. Then after a few seconds ticked by, she started touching me again with the most feather-light strokes of her fingertips. There was a pattern in her touches. She wasn’t trying to drive me insane, causing a deep throb inside my jeans. She was tracing my tattoos.
    Her fingers outlined every curve and line with light, leisurely strokes. She worked her way up from the back of my hand to my shoulder, those delicate digits beginning their trek down to my chest. Softly, she brushed the ink next to my heart, letting her fingernails graze the ring through my nipple. I damn near bit my own tongue to keep from groaning.
    After she had finished her thorough examination of the words that housed my pectoral, her fingers continued their dance down to my abs, taking the time to caress every ripple of my midsection. Her touch ignited a fire inside me, and I prayed that she couldn’t see the bulge in my pants in the dark. And if she did…well, shit, there was nothing I could really do about it. She had to have known the effect she had on my body. She was sexy as hell; I’d have to be dead not to be aroused.
    Just as I was about to pretend to stir awake so I could cover the massive erection that was aching to be touched, I felt it. Her lips on my chest, so soft, warm and utterly perfect. It was just the slightest brush of her mouth, but it was enough to have my heart hammering double time and my cock throbbing. Shit. There was no way she couldn’t know what she was doing to me. And there was no way I could restrain myself much longer.
    I heard Kami sigh, then she placed her head on the spot she just kissed. I couldn’t be sure, but what sounded like a sob broke free from her chest. I could almost feel the ache in her throat as she tried to muffle it, but once I felt the warm moisture of tears against my skin, I knew she was crying.
    As much as it made me feel like an insensitive asshole, I let her cry in private. Only a few tears slid onto my chest, so I knew that she was somewhat ok. At least, that’s what I hoped. I just didn’t understand how she could go from caressing the length of my torso and kissing me, to crying. Had I done something? Was some hidden pain inside her triggered by my presence? Whatever the reason was, it tore me in two. She was too beautiful to cry. I wanted to kiss those tears away and make it so she never had a reason to cry again. Unless it was from the overwhelming waves of pleasure that I ached to give her. Those tears were absolutely acceptable.
    The telltale signs of deep breathing told me she had fallen back to sleep. As carefully as I could without waking her, I wrapped my arms back around her and held her tight. This girl had gotten to me. She was making herself as permanent as the ink already embedded in my skin. Kami had branded me with those tears.
    The bright sun filtering through the curtains stirred us from our slumber hours later. I didn’t know what time it was, but judging by how tired I still felt, I knew it was early.
    “Good morning,” Kami whispered, her head still on my chest.
    “Morning,” I replied in a gruff voice, kissing her hair. It was a reflex. I don’t know if she felt it but if she did, she didn’t react.
    After a few beats, she sat up and stretched her arms above her head. My eyes, still lazy with sleep, were fixed on the patch of exposed skin from her tank top riding up. Her skin looked so soft and delicate. I imagined licking every inch of it. Every. Single. Inch. My mouth watered.
    She looked back at me, catching my appraising gaze. “Oh God. It’s true. Dammit ,” she mumbled.
    I frowned, my eyes narrowing with confusion. Was she regretting letting me stay? I sat up next to her, still reclining back on my elbows. If she wanted me gone, she was going to have to say it. And judging by the way she was touching me last night, she had no regrets then.
    “You’re one of them