To my dismay, he lets go of us and leans up, taking his mouth and touch away. “How do you… Do you want me… Or I could…” I wish I could find whatever emotion he's feeling in his eyes, but I'm a coward. Instead, I roll onto my side, heart beating a frantic, nervous rhythm when I bend my top leg, exposing exactly how I want this to go.
In another universe, there is a version of myself that's not emboldened by hardship and depression. A version that's softer and looks at Bowen in the eye when he finally comes to this pinnacle with me. It's tender and full of the kind of nerves that only come with the moment one loses their virginity.
But I'm not the same person I used to be. In this universe, I'm desperate for the sanctity of Bowen's touches. The monsters are waiting for me just outside this room, hovering. Waiting to dig their claws back in and drag me back to hell on earth with them.
I don't have time for the shyness that used to own me. All I have is the honesty of my need, and right now, I need Bowen to own me.
There's a pop of a cap and a warm breath on my nape a few seconds later. Lips. Kiss after kiss. A nose taking a deep inhale in the hair at the back of my head. The heat of a chest at my back, and a slick glide down my ass with searching fingers. We both shudder when he finds where I want him.
I gasp at the first feel of intrusion, but Bowen is there with a sucking kiss right below my ear. “Have you dreamt of this, kitten? Of me?” he rasps softly.
I moan, nodding as he presses in deeper with his finger. When my tense body relaxes, one turns to two. And when the pressure becomes uncomfortable, Bowen is there.
“You're so tight, kitten. So soft.” He groans, pulling his fingers out slowly and then pressing back in. Deeper. More. “Is this what you thought about when you couldn't keep your eyes off of me?”
I flush, from pleasure. From him calling me out. Confirming that he knew, that he always knew. I tilt my head back into him, and he bites into my neck. He works me until I'm open and on the edge of a place I've never been taken to before. Then his fingers are pulled gently from my body.
“No,” I groan, but Bowen just shushes me. There's another snap of a bottle cap, and the feel of Bowen moving behind me. Then his warmth is back.
“Tell me,” he says. I can feel him right. There.
“Please, Boe…” And before his name is even off my lips, he's pressing into me. It's too much and not enough, and I moan loudly, the sound mixing and dancing with the noises of his own pleasure. I don't breathe until he's fully seated inside.
“This could be us, Kit. All the time. Don't you want that? Want me?” His stuttered words fan over my cheek, his hands feel like they're everywhere. It's all I can do to grab hold of the sheets and hang on.
Yes.I think.Yes, I want you.
But my monsters don't care what I want. I'm not strong enough, not like Bowen. But I reach back for him, holding his head against me while he takes us to a place I'm not sure I deserve to go.
“Boe,” I choke out, tears clouding my vision.
I lost my virginity to Bowen Briggs. The love of my life. Back to his chest. Hiding. A coward. Stealing moments of bliss.
I didn't look at his face once.
Bowen
Age 21
I wasn't surprised when I woke up that first morning to an empty space beside me. I won't lie and say it didn't pinch the fuck out of my insides not to find him warm and safe in my bed, though. I had closed my eyes, weak enough from the raw emotions from the night before to allow myself the fantasy of rolling over and burying my face in his hair. Waking him with slow kisses and hands that now knew their way around his body.
The Kit I always knew before would have laughed, sleepy and shy. Playfully pushing my face away and laughing about morning breath. His pale skin would have flushed so pretty in the morning light coming in from between the blinds, and his hazel eyes would have looked at me, would have drank the sight of me in like they always did. I would have kissed across the freckles on his nose, smiling against his skin when his cute nose scrunched.
But we're not in the before, we're in the aftermath of life absolutely fucking us. I spent that first day somewhere between wallowing and sated. Moments of wondering if he had marks from my mouth left peppered like promises on his skin. Moments when I wished I had been strong enough not to give in to the need to have him, not until he was ready.
Now it's been five motherfucking days of nothing.
Tucker: nah, man. Still nothing. I'll let you know if he shows up.
Five days.
I swipe away from Tucker’s message and open the thread with Kit. Glaring like if I put enough energy behind it, he'll actually deem me worthy of something. Anything. I'd take a goddamn middle finger emoji at this point.
Me: Kitten. Just let me know you're okay…
Me: It's been three days, baby. Please.
Me: Kit. Seriously?
