Page 80 of The Truth About You and Me
I take a beat. Not because I’m doubting my decision, but because I want to feel and experience this moment, let it anchor me in this new place full of security and hope. Because with him, it’s so different.
Because I know what he thinks; I know what is in his heart.
So when he repeats the question, I know without any doubt that it’s what he wants too. I don’t need to take my time replying. Every part of me is yearning for his touch. ‘Yes.’
I’ve never wanted anything,anyonemore.
33
MAGGIE
I walk ahead, leading him into my room. A soft orange glow from the street lights warms the walls. He steps towards me, his silhouette outlined against the dark. Jack brushes my hair away from my cheek with his finger, his mouth nearing mine.
‘If you want me to stop, say.’ His voice is rough, dark eyes staring into my own.
I nod. I can’t form any words. Our mouths inch closer. The pressure of his lips is feather-light, his tongue seeking out mine, gently at first. Then deeper. With more purpose. I’m on fire.
His hand clutches the back of my skirt, bringing my body closer. He turns us around, and I’m stepping backwards. His thoughts and my own are a cacophony of wants and needs. A burn of something primal between us. Our mouths mould into each other, his tongue over mine, my teeth pulling at his bottom lip, co-ordination that has nothing to do with me being able to read his mind. He lets out a small moan. My mouth opens against his, tasting the sounds of him as he lands on my bed.
I pull up my skirt, sinking over him. His hand runs up my leg, from my knees, to the outside of my thighs, my skirt riding up to my waist. I lean back, eyes not leaving his as I begin unbuttoning my blouse. His head dips, lips trailing along my collarbone, my back arching as I throw my clothes behind. It’s so different than with Luke. With him, I was always trying so hard not to hear him that I was never fully present. We kiss again, each movement against each other intuitive. This isn’t like when I’ve kissed men before. No lurid thoughts and expectations, no constant narration of how this move was going to ‘drive me wild’, just pure echoing of yearning, desire and awe. I unhook my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Jack stops kissing me for a moment. I lean back. He wants to look at me.
It’s like a dance, the way he pulls back then moves closer, his hand gripping mine above my head, his other tracing the curve of my ribcage, his thumb running upwards. With each touch and scrape and moan, our thoughts meet. My voice, his skin, his voice, our need. If I could tell him how good this feels, it would echo his own thoughts exactly. It’s like we are one person.
I grip the bottom of his jumper, yank it free, my fingers run up his spine, clutch his shoulders, his skin against mine.
I’ve never felt this whole.
This certain.
This complete.
‘Is this OK?’ he asks, breath hitching.
‘God yes.’ A small smile quirks in the corner of his mouth, hand gliding to the zip of my skirt. ‘And this?’ I nod as he trails along my ribcage with his tongue, the brush of his stubble scratching against my skin as he sinks lower. He looks up at me, undoes the button and, excruciatingly slowly, lowers the zip. I lift myself so he can pull off my skirt. He sits back, hands away from my skin now, and I’m left with my own thoughts.
It’s like I’ve lost half of me.
He smiles and lifts my foot, and his thoughts are back. I know he’s going to take his time now, that he wants me to wait, to need him as much as he needs me. He rolls down the material from one leg, feather-light fingers running up the back of my calf, my knee. He repeats the action, until the tights are discarded. He comes back up, our mouths sinking into each other.
‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone,’ he says, voice scratchy, deep.
‘Me neither.’ His mouth is on me again and then to my chest, his tongue sending sparks through my nervous system, then his mouth drags back down my body. He lowers my underwear, eyes on me as he does. I shiver, goosebumps on my skin despite the fire inside. His stubble grates the inside of my thigh, his mouth taking me. I close my eyes. His thoughts are clouded by desire, by my taste, by the way I feel against his tongue. I can feel my climax approaching but he pulls back.
Not yet.
I’m gasping as he looks up at me. His thoughts back in my head, loud and clear.
I want you to hear how I feel about you.
Do you know how beautiful you are?
Right now.
Right in this moment.
And then his mouth is back on me and my hips are rising against him. This time he doesn’t pull away. My whole body arches against him.
He gives me a moment to recover, kisses roaming over my skin as he traces his way back up with his mouth. Jack leans over me, the back of his hand tracing my jawline.
