Secret Lucidity(43)



We continue bantering back and forth, and when all the dishes are cleaned and the food is in the fridge, we lie down together on the couch, and I soon fall asleep in his arms while he watches football.




“Hey,” David whispers as he runs his hand along my back, waking me slowly.

I look out the window to see it’s dark outside. “How long was I asleep?”

“About three hours,” he tells me as we sit up. “Come on.” He stands, and I take his hand before going to his room.

As often as I’m here, a few of my clothes have been left behind. Instead of letting me go so I can change into a pair of pajama pants, he stops me and holds me against his chest as we stand at the foot of his bed. He holds me like a woman, in a way Kroy never could. And with my head cradled over his heart, I take in a deep breath as I relax into the soothing beats.

These arms of his have become my place of solace over these past few months. I’ve come to know the strength of them well, wishing often that I had them with me always. But I wonder if always would be long enough.

We kick off our shoes and crawl into bed. Lying face to face with my body tucked in close to his, I run my hand over the stubble on his face.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

I kiss his neck before saying, “For making me smile today.”

He runs his hands through my hair as we look into each other’s eyes in the darkened room. Time stands still in this moment of peacefulness, and when he drags his thumb across my lower lip, I kiss it before he says, “I’ve completely fallen for you.”

My heart triple beats, driving my urge to be even closer to him, and when I kiss him, I really kiss him. I tug on his shoulder, and he follows my lead, rolling on top of me. The pressure of his weight on me provides a sense of safety, that nothing could ever afflict what we have because it’s protected by him.

We continue to kiss, but there’s something different in the way we’re moving. As if somehow, we’ve slipped off axis, and nothing else in this universe exists but the two of us.

My hands run under his shirt and over his chest, trailing along his smooth skin, which is hot against my touch. He wastes no time, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor beside the bed. As we continue to move in this new way, my top soon joins his. He drops kisses along my collarbone, down to the swell of my breasts, where he kisses me above my bra. My body tingles in excitement when he pushes one of the straps off my shoulder and down my arm, pulling the lace with it until he has me exposed to him.

My eyes fall shut the moment he covers my nipple with his mouth. He sucks, and I arch into him, a movement beyond my control because it feels too good to be this close to him.

We’ve always kept unspoken boundaries intact, which I’m thankful for since I have very little experience with this stuff. Aside from the occasional make out session, my and Kroy’s relationship was very PG-13. But David isn’t a seventeen-year-old boy, so it’s been a relief that he’s moved slowly and cautiously with me.

But right now, I need more from him, and he gives it to me as he rolls his tongue, hardening me in his mouth. I grip his hair and keep him close, but close isn’t close enough, and when he tilts his head up to look at me, I whisper, “Don’t stop.”

Reaching behind me, he unclasps my bra and adds it to the pile of clothes on the floor. I have no clue what I’m doing at this point, but I don’t care. It’s a battle of emotions within, and when his hands and mouth are on me again, they all fade into the background, leaving behind only desire and want.

He’s unrushed, and we take our time slipping off everything between us until we’re skin on skin beneath his sheets. I watch in puzzlement as he slips a finger into his mouth for a second before reaching down.

My body jerks when his fingers slip between my legs, and I clasp my hand around his wrist.

His eyes flick to mine. “Let me touch you.”

My breathing catches when he glides his finger through the center of me. Sweat chills my neck in heated pleasure as my body struggles with how to respond to this foreign touch.

He’s hard where I’m soft, and suddenly I become very aware of what’s happening and where this is leading. I feign normalcy, but I don’t know what normal looks like in a situation like this. I contemplate stopping him and telling him that I’ve never done this before. But then I fear I’ll scare him, remind him of how much life actually separates us. The last thing I want him to do right now is stop. Because I need this tenderness, I need this affection, I need everything his touch is giving me in this moment.

I’m so lost in my head, that when I look up into his eyes, I become acutely aware of him when he pushes my thighs and spreads my legs. Trying to quell my staggering breaths becomes difficult when he holds himself in his hand and slides the tip along the most intimate part of me. My pulse rages, suffocating me in my own fears.

I don’t know what to do.

How bad is this going to hurt?

Will I be a disappointment?

Will he laugh at me?

Will he be completely turned off at my absolute incompetence?

Because what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to move? What am I—

The ripping of the condom wrapper draws every bit of my attention back to him, and I watch him as panic breeds within that which thumps beneath my ribs.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs when he lowers his body to mine.

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