Page 62 of Fighting With Light
Her eyes widen and my skin feels like it’s on fire in all the places we’re touching. I wonder what it would feel like to have absolutely nothing between us.
“Will you let me have you?”
“Please,” she whispers over her dusky lips. They are almost perfect, but her Cupid’s bow is not as pronounced. Her lips look softer because of it, like they are meant to be pressed against mine, like they are perfect forme.
Keeping my grip on her, our lips brush like the rain that falls on a leaf. It hits and then cascades down, feeding the plant like it’s feeding my lonely soul.
“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” she whispers across my lips.
I lean my forehead against hers and nod. She’s not referring to sex. She’s talking about the tangible harmony that we have because it has become this living thing between us. It has been almost impossible to ignore and feels a lot like what I think…love might be like.
“Then we better make the heartbreak worth it,” she says.
I look her in the eye one more time, waiting for her to change her mind and push me away. Only she leans in, waiting for me to take control. And that’s how I know I’m done for. She trusts me to take care of her, to keep her safe, to protect her. She’s giving me the power that she has never allowed another to have.
Gently pressing my lips on hers, I slide my hand from her jaw to the back of her neck. Tingles spread through my body and longing replaces the loneliness that has sat in my heart for so long. I yearn for her to want this as much as me. This is not lust, this is not a basic carnal desire to feel good for moments. This ismore.
I know in the marrow of my bones that she is the piece of me. She is my missing rib.
Her mouth opens to me and my tongue grazes hers as she sighs into the kiss, leaning into my body. I hold her until it’s not enough. She pulls away and hops into my arms, and I carry us to my room. She fits in my arms like she’s meant to be there all along, and it’s the dumbest thing I have ever said to myself. I don’t feel this way about anyone…except for her.
I don’t know why God put her in my life. We are two people that have no business being together, but there is a reason people say man plans and God laughs. I may not have had a plan for my future, but putting her in my present forces me to look at it, and maybe, just maybe, that’s the point of all of this. Maybe my future isn’t so lonely after all because there is one person who sees me and is only asking for more. I don’t deserve it, I know that, but at this point, I don’t know if I can stop myself, either.
She lets go of my neck, expecting me to put her on the bed. Instead, I turn around and fall back in what feels like slow motion into the feather comforter. She pushes herself up and looks down at me with her hair falling over her shoulders and brushing my face. Our eyes lock and I can feel her marking me. She has stamped my heart forever, and no matter what happens in the future, she will forever have a part of me.
Aelia leans in and kisses me with gentle intent as her tongue dips against mine, and it sends shudders down my spine. I grip her face between my hands and her elbows buckle, failing to hold her up. Pressing my lips to her one more time, I flip us so I’m on top and dive back into that velvet mouth, inhaling her cherry-sweet scent. We explore each other with a primitive need to answer our silent call. She whimpers into my mouth and her hips jolt. My body almost quakes against hers and I run my hand down her frame, over her hip, to her smooth thigh.
She lifts her leg around my hip and I pull back, lifting us at the same time so she’s sitting in my lap. I grab the hem of her shirt and toss it, leaving her in a strappy sports bra. She grazes the tips of her nails over my skin, making me shudder. She presses kisses up my neck as I drag my hands up and down her ribs. Aelia leans back and grabs the edges of her bra to pull it over her head.
I stare at her chest for a moment then she leans in, sucking on my pulse, and my blood roars. This slow and steady build-up is too thick, too difficult to feel, it’s nearly suffocating. Her hands drape over my shoulders and she binds her warmth to mine. I groan with the contact, drawing my hands up and down her spine. She tugs my hair back and takes my mouth again, wild and unrestrained in her desire. Her hips roll against me and I grip them hard, helping her. She whimpers and pulls away, resting her head on my shoulder as her hips move in even circles.
“That’s it, baby,” I encourage her. She moans in my ear and the sound alone provokes the fire that we’ve been stoking for so long.
Her hips circle faster and I push her off my lap and get to my knees. She cries out in frustration and bites down on her lip while I reach for her shorts and pull them down her legs. “Tu es magnifique,” I growl. She turns her head as if she’s embarrassed and I grip her hand. “You’re not shy, princess, don’t start now.”
She drops her hand and watches me admire her, as her chest lifts and falls with quick breaths. I untie my shorts and kick them off. My whole body feels jittery and reckless. I’m the wire, and she’s the water—sparks are inevitable.
I graze my finger over her chest and goosebumps rise in my path. She moans out, tipping her head back. Then I skim my hand down her stomach to her center, brushing her with my knuckle. Her hips jolt up and she inhales sharply as I move in a steady rhythm. I watch in awe as her eyes close and she grips the sheets, tilting her head back, exposing her pretty neck.
“Merde,” I curse and curl my fingers, watching her turn into a puddle for me. “C’est bien,” I grunt. She pulses her hips and cries into the ceiling. She lays there for a beat, then sits up, grabbing my hand to tug me down over her body.
“I need you, Liam,” she whispers and runs her hands through my hair, pushing it out of my face.
“You have me,” I rasp and lift my hips and gently push myself forward. I’ve never felt so unhurried before, but it feels like we have all the time in the world, even if we don’t. Time halts around us as I give her body the attention it demands from me because she deserves to be cared for with slow, deliberate intention. She lifts her head and looks down at us. Her eyes flare and legs spread wider, and fireworks explode under my skin. She groans and digs her nails into my back.
“Open your eyes, princess.”
Her long lashes flutter open, revealing her beautiful moss-colored eyes as they lock onto mine.
I set our deliberate, languid pace. She lifts and I push, and all I feel is her. All I taste is her, and she tastes every bit of the future I can see with her, and that scares the shit out of me.
“Liam, I—” she cries.
“I know, baby, I know,” I tell her. I know she feels it as a tear slips from her eye, and we gasp for air as our bodies move together in what I can only call making love. The bed creaks beneath us and I hear faint thunder crack as rain continues to fall.
“I can’t—” she gasps.
Refusing to let this end, I lift up onto my knees and grab her hips, dragging her back to me, forcing her back to arch, and she grips the sheets above her head. “You can,” I grunt.
