“The conversation between your fingers and someone else's skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have.”
— I Wrote This for You
They slept together for the first time six months after their first kiss. It was not planned, rose petals were not scattered over the bed and she did not have on her sexiest underwear, if her black lacy bra could even be called that. But she decided that that was okay because it was something she had wondered about before and told herself that if the moment ever presented itself she would do what felt right. And it did feel right.
It felt right when he laid her on the bed, when his body moved to cover hers, when he lifted up her shirt and sucked gently the spot on her neck that never failed to get a reaction out of her. Her movements became less careful after that, less uncertain of herself, and she kissed him with a burning intensity she did not know she possessed, her body buzzing with an electricity she had never felt before.
When his hands moved to her jeans, he hesitated. They both did, knowing that if they did this, their friendship may never be the same again; they could never go back to the beginning.
But she lifted her head off the bed until her lips found his, kissing him gently and lacking the pervious hunger. More of a soothing caress than anything, and he seemed to understand that this was her telling him that it would be okay.
He was very still, her shallow breathing interrupting the silence of the night. Then he came to a decision and eased the button of her jeans from its hole, his warm fingers tickling against her skin, and her breath became more laboured that he had agreed at all. That they were even going to do this at all.
His eyes locked onto hers as he slid the zipper down. They were darker than usual, glazed with something that had her stomach flipping.
A gasp escaped her lips when he slipped inside of her, her hands clutching at his shoulders as he began to move over her, steadily building up a rhythm. Her timidity faded. She moved with him, matching his speed. And soon she did not know who was setting the pace anymore. Soon she did not know where he began and she ended. And in the morning when she woke up with the morning sun shining over her bare back, blushing furiously, he kissed the reluctance out of her until she no longer remembered that it was supposed to be different now.
Until she forgot to think at all.
YOU ARE READING
Coffees with Luke & Audrey
Romance"We're all looking for the same things in the end." She thinks people are mundane. He thinks people are fascinating. Somehow, they fall in love.
