“Oh, babe, I am fully possible if you want me to be.”
“I do. I do want…I want you.”
In looking up, I silently beg her to have mercy on me. I’ve never been good at translating my feelings and these are too insurmountable for me to communicate. But she knows. Lucy cradles my face with both hands and pulls me in for another kiss. It’s different than before. It’s hungrier, more urgent. I can barely breathe, only getting a lungful of air when she shucks off her shirt. Without missing a beat, she kisses me again, bodily shoving me toward what I assume, and hope, is her bedroom.
Once we enter the bedroom, I’m overcome with an angsty, primal feeling beginning deep in my stomach and pulsing through my veins. Possession is like an itch I can’t scratch. No matter how close I get, how much of her body I touch, it’ll never convey the magnitude to which this person belongs to me. I pin her against the door and tangle my fingers in her wonderfully soft, red hair.
“Finally,” she moans between crushing, soul-lifting kisses. “Fuck. Finally.”
We part and I stare into her wild eyes. “Are you sure?”
She laughs breathlessly at my expense. “Yeah, I’m sure. Are you?”
“Very sure. I have never wanted anyone else.”
Lucy smiles softly. “That can’t possibly be true.”
“Lucy, I have only ever felt desire with you. My heart, my body, my soul—if such a thing exists—wants you and only you.”
Lucy’s eyes go dark, her chest panting. The sensation it stirs in me is unholy. “Get on the bed.”
I raise a single eyebrow at her, feeling daring and bold. She must be rubbing off on me, figuratively and literally. “Make me.”
With a growl, her hands slide down my body to beneath my butt and she lifts me up off the ground. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around her hips as she walks us back. I’m carefully placed on the bed, and she lays partially on top of me. My hands skim her skin, my heartbeat racing in my fingertips. Every part of my body is alive, throbbing in a way that is foreign to me, but not unwanted. The other times she engendered these feelings in me, they were like smoke. Black wisps of air, curling up from under a door. That door has been busted wide open and the fire revealed.
Her hands tug at my belt and a loud exhale bursts from my nose.
She stops moving. “Do you need a minute?”
“No, I’m fine.” I clearly don’t sound okay and Lucy conveys a look that tells me as much. “I have never done this before.”
Lucy kisses me with a gentleness we’ve lacked in the last few minutes. The affection in her embrace makes my heart flutter. “I know. It’s all right.”
She resumes unbuckling my belt, and places kisses down the column of my neck. Together, we divest ourselves of most of our clothing and I nearly hyperventilate at the sensation of her body against mine. My measly fantasies pale in comparison to her wetness sliding along my thigh, or the heat of her mouth on my breasts. Never mind how utterly gorgeous she is, or the full glory of my undeserving hands roaming her skin unimpeded.
“You’ll show me how?” If I sound as stupid as I feel, Lucy doesn’t let me know. Her lips leave my chest in favor of kissing my jaw. “I’m sorry I don’t know anything.”
A palm planted on either side of my shoulders, Lucy lifts herself into a push-up position and gazes adoringly at me. “We’re in this together, my love. Always. And if you needanything, you tell me. You’ve never had a problem bossing me around before.”
“I trust you,” I reply softly, and the teasing look in her eye melts into recognition. For good measure, I reach out and trace the faint scar on her hip.
Her subsequent kiss is so firm and tender, so undeniably the Lucy I know and love, that everything else fades away and I fully surrender. Carefully, she undresses me like the unwrapping of a precious gift. It’s a loving ritual of which I don’t feel wholly deserving, but with every ministration of her fingers and lips, I believe it, if only for the fleeting moment of her touch.
As she reaches to help me pull off my bra, her fingers catch the raised textures of scarring. Light touches skim down the streaks of raised welts across my back. There’s a collection of them near the mangled remains of my Selene tattoo—I think Theia aimed for it.
“Taylor…Do they hurt?”
“Sometimes.”
Anger sizzles in her expression. “Who?—”
“Can we not?” I beg quietly. “Can you…touch me, please?”
Visibly reluctant but respectful, she nods and peppers my lips, chin, neck with little kisses that slowly turn open-mouthed and hot. Chills run up my spine at the sensation of her soft lips and firm tongue against my skin. She lavishes attention on my breasts, my ribs, my stomach, my pelvis, and pecks a kiss on the small fox tattoo above my groin.
“Always wanted to know what that was,” she murmurs. “But more so where it led.”
Despite her words, she diverts to my inner thighs and kisses the trembling flesh until I’m on the precipice of begging her for relief. However, she leaves a few bite marks on my thighs before finally settling between my legs and snaking her tongue into my folds. My reaction is immediate, hips jerking toward her face soabruptly I could’ve broken her nose. She chuckles and wraps her hands around my thighs to keep them pinned to the bed as she continues to stroke her tongue inside me.
