Feversong (Fever #9)(126)
“Are you kidding me?” He reached for my hand “With our IQs and hearts, if we can’t make love right, there’s something seriously wrong with us.”
I let him lead me, walking slightly behind him, enjoying the view of his back and ass. His skin was darker than mine but then again pretty much everyone’s is, and I couldn’t wait to touch it everywhere. As he moved, muscles rippled, and I shivered thinking about him stretching naked on top of me, pushing inside, wrapping my legs around him. His name suited him. He moved like a dancer, powerful, controlled, strong.
Stopping at the bed, he turned, stared at me a long moment, then with an explosive exhale said, “Christ, Dani, you’re so beautiful. So, so…”
“Epic?” I said helpfully.
He laughed. “In every possible way. I dreamed about this. Prayed that I’d live long enough and you’d live long enough that you’d grow up and see me as a man. You’re the most fearless, brilliant, incredible woman I’ve ever met. What did I do to deserve you? Are you sure you want me to be your first?” he said, like he couldn’t believe it. “Mega, I’m just a guy and you’re…well, you’re everything.”
His beautiful eyes were so honest and earnest, it melted me. I took his hand and drew it to my body, put his palm against my stomach and slid it up to my breast, shivering when he grazed my nipple with his thumb. “You’re not just anything, and never could be, and you did everything to deserve me. You listen to me and let me breathe and talk and teach me things. You’re brilliant. And you’re kind and good and constant. And you’re epic, too. Yes, I’m definitely absolutely one hundred percent certain I want you to be my first. There’s no one else, Dancer. It’s you.”
Just like that, I banished Ryodan’s ghost from between us.
He inhaled sharply, then his hands were moving on my skin, sliding to cup my breasts gently, then hungrily, and for the first time since I’d met him, he looked at me and did nothing to disguise the lust and desire he felt for me, and I gasped. It was staggering. He wanted me so much! I loved seeing that in his eyes! I felt everything his hands were doing as intensely as I feel all my emotions, like the cells in his body were sinking into the cells of my body, touching me all the way to the place where my soul used to be.
It wasn’t like in movies where everything goes flawlessly and the lighting is all fuzzy soft focus and the music is just right.
That’s illusion. Reality is two people who care deeply about each other, getting to know each other as intimately as possible, and it’s full of sounds and awkward movements and occasional strained laughter. It took us a bit to get past the shaky, nervous part, but when we did, we found that our bodies moved together as easily, hungrily, and passionately as our minds.
When I used to daydream about losing my virginity, I always thought I’d put on a show when I had sex for the first time, be the femme fatale, dazzling, wild, and most definitely on top. I’d rock his world and not think about mine. I’d impress because that’s what I do, I impress because I’m never sure people will like me otherwise.
None of that mattered with Dancer.
He was already impressed with me and I got to be just who I was, and it was slow and easy and beautiful. And it was clumsy at times and so damned personal and vulnerable and he slid his long length over my body and rocked himself into me gently and with exquisite care, cradling my head, staring into my eyes the entire time.
And when we found our rhythm and he moved inside me, I started to cry and couldn’t stop.
Not sloppy.
Just silent tears rolling down my cheeks.
I stared up at him and he looked down and he started to cry, too, and without saying a word, we both understood why the other was crying.
No matter how much time we had with each other, it would be too short, because he could die or I could die, or we could both live a century and it still wouldn’t be long enough. He was just good, and with him, so was I, and life lost all its sharp, dangerous edges when we were together.
I cried because I’d never felt so much emotion in my life. I cried for my mom, who never once felt safe and maybe never knew this kind of moment. She knew the other kind, the ones that demean and leave you emptier than you began. I cried for everything I’d lost. I cried for his heart and the world. I touched the tears glittering in his long dark eyelashes, caught and kissed them then kissed him with the salty tang of both our tears on our tongues.
Then neither of us was crying but our eyes were locked, wide with wonder, as he moved faster and deeper and my body trembled around him and my orgasm made a kaleidoscope inside my skull. I didn’t just come with my body, the explosion of so much sensation did something to my head, too. As if it was injecting an incredible chemical into my brain and suddenly I was no longer shorted out and I started to vibrate and we both looked at each other, startled, then he started to growl and I realized what my vibrating was doing to him and I started to laugh and so did he, but he was growling and gasping, too, and he shook on top of me and threw his head back and groaned and sort of roared and it was the best sound I’ve ever heard—Dancer, free and happy and totally alive.
I held him afterward, cradling his head to my chest, smiling because I had some really cool tricks I could do and I couldn’t wait to explore all of them with him.
I drifted a bit then and so did he, and as I was floating in that dreamy place he said softly against my ear, “I see you, Yi-yi.”