Only You

Chapter 7

Elora

I'm doing it! I'm making out with someone without freaking out. It's more than that, even. I'm liking this, a lot. There's just something about the way Alexey is cupping my face with his hands, pulling me close so he can deepen the kiss that sits very fucking right with me.

If I could just stay right here forever, I'd be a happy gal.

Suddenly, there's a sting on my bottom lip and I yelp softly, realizing he bit me. But then his tongue is there, soothing the sensitive spot before pulling back and kissing me anew. I can feel my body relaxing more onto him, my worries about crushing his legs vanishing as I happily let him do to my mouth whatever he pleases.

That's when the teasing starts. Soft nibbles and pecks before he dives in and gently takes my bottom lip between his teeth once more. Only this time, instead of biting down, he pulls away just slightly before letting it snap back.

I tug at his hair, trying to match his slightly violent streak and to keep up only to feel him smile smugly against my lips. I pretend I don't notice, pecking his mouth again and again until finally, when I realize he's going to make me work for my next kiss, making a bold move and squirming up higher on his lap.

That gets a reaction and when he kisses me this time, he deepens it by slipping his tongue into my mouth just a little. I allow it, trying to go along by copying his moves despite this being fairly new to me. We seem to find our rhythm easily and I try to think of what to do next. I did some research, if you can call it that, and remembering what I've learned, I squirm closer to his lap once more until I'm almost seated atop his crotch.

Something warm fizzles in my stomach when he groans softly, satisfaction making my head light and giving me the courage to finally settle all the way against him. For a second we both stop kissing. Me because I just realized how close we truly are, especially with my dress hiked up so high. I can feel... him. Through his pants and all. He's hard and warm and right between my legs.

When no signs of panic show themselves, I resume kissing him, pressing my lips firmly to his smooth ones over and over until he kisses me back as he did before. Urgently. Desperately.

One of his hands leaves my cheek and slides down the curve of my spine, the touch sending spikes of electricity through me and drawing a soft moan from me. Before I can feel ashamed, his hand finds my waist, applying a little bit of pressure to encourage my movements along to the music.

I happily comply now that he's leading, rolling my hips against him in a way that has both of our breathing turning shallow in no time. Part of me is sure this is a dream, that this couldn't possibly be me grinding on a near-stranger's lap but the rest of me knows this feels too damn real to be fake.

As I find my rhythm, Alexey's grip on my waist loosens and his hand drifts further down, past my waist, and slowly over the curve of my hips.

That's where things go wrong. The moment his hand brushes over the place that I know still carries a scar, I lock up on top of him. Dread and shame are quick to flood me once more and I am so damn frustrated to feel tears burning the backs of my eyes that I could scream.

I can do this, I repeat to myself, trying to keep kissing Alexey. I have to do this! I was doing so great up until now but it'll all be for nothing if I don't end up having sex. I need to go through with this. It's not just that I feel obliged to prepare myself for my fiancé, but I want to get over my issues. To stop being so damn scared all the time and be able to experience what everyone around me gets to. I have to do this.

I try to push my memories away, try to resume my hips' movement before Alexey realizes how messed up I am and runs off. I keep kissing him, squeezing my eyes shut painfully to keep my tears at bay.