So they tore frantically at each other, leaving a heap of clothes on the floor before he pushed her against the fabric of the bedframe, her arms wrapped around his neck, his hands gripping her bare hips. Her breaths came shallow and rapid against his ear. He smelled like hints of cologne and sweat and champagne.
She met his gaze. His eyes were hooded with desire, so searing that it sent a thrill of fear through her.
“What are we doing?” she whispered again, echoing his words from earlier.
“What do you want me to do?” he rasped back.
A wild recklessness surged in her chest. “Surprise me.”
His eyes looked dark with want. He pressed his lips against her ear.
“Stay still.”
She did.
He kissed her jawline gently, then her collarbone, her shoulder, then trailed down her body, making her skin tingle with each contact. His lips studied her every softness, slowed down and lingered wherever she shivered with pleasure, worked reverently on her until she arched, shuddering, a small cry emerging from her throat. She could tell that he had been with plenty of others before, that he knew exactly what to do and how to do it, and it left her in a heady fog of both envy and ecstasy.
“Winter,” she murmured, meeting his gaze with her hazy one.
“Tell me,” he whispered. “Do you like that?”
She closed her eyes. “Yes.”
“Do you like this?”
A shiver rippled through her body. “Yes,” she gasped.
“This?”
She sucked in her breath sharply. “Winter,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Winter, I can’t—”
“Then don’t,” he whispered back.
Now she was seeing stars, could barely tell the difference between the fuzzy contour of his body and the darkness of the night. What he was doing to her made it too difficult for her to gather her thoughts, so she gave up and gave in, let her body go.
Pull me into the water with you,she thought.Just this once.
She had no concept of how much time had passed, whether they had been like this for seconds or hours. Eventually, she realized she had wrapped her arms around his upper back and pulled him down to her, that she was kissing his lips hungrily, their bare skin sticking. She raked her hands through his damp hair, memorized the sound of their bodies together and his gasps and the whisper of her name on his lips. He was trembling just as much as she was, and in the dimness, she could make out the ache in his gaze, could see herself in his dark irises.
“Sydney,” he whispered feverishly against her neck as he moved. “Sydney. Let me stay.”
She couldn’t tell exactly what he meant by that, and perhaps he didn’t know, either. Perhaps he was too caught up in the moment, feeling as intoxicated as she had, saying things he didn’t quite mean, feeling things he couldn’t quite articulate. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember by morning. But he whispered it again, nevertheless.
Let me stay.
She pressed her lips against his cheek and murmured something in response. She knew he’d heard her, knew that it must have pierced his heart as surely as it had pierced her own, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe that was for the best.
Keep me in your songs.
Afterward, Sydney lay awake, studying the patterns of faint light against the walls. Her gaze went to the boy beside her, his mess of black hair fanning across the pillow. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even, but he wasn’t asleep, because his hand was still running idly along the curve of her side, sending pleasant tingles through her body. He looked serene and delicate, vulnerable in a way that she found heartbreaking. She let herself take him in without thinking, savoring these few, precious minutes, admiring his every exquisite detail.
It was strange, how she could both remember everything that they had just done—and yet recall it only through a frame of fog, as if she’d had the most vivid dream of her life.
She watched him for a while, then reached over and brushed his hair gently back with a finger.
He stirred at her motion, a quiet murmur in his throat, and his eyelids fluttered. A second later, she found herself looking into a pair of dark eyes.
They said nothing to each other. Perhaps they were both too afraid.
