Chapter Twenty-Eight: Temptation

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Ophelia:

I'm in trouble.

I'm... naked.

He's naked.

Together, at the same time, holding each other, and I can't think straight. My entire body seems so intensely aware of him, so on edge and bright and mushy. His smooth, tan skin, the planes of lean muscle that define his arms, his shoulders, his chest, his legs, the little bit of hair scattered across his body, beneath his arms, his lower abdomen, his thighs. His smell, so masculine and dark and woodsy...

His skin is warm to the touch, emits so much heat. As I lay on my side, cuddled against him, he tilts his head towards me and I stroke my fingers through his hair, run my other hand over his abs. Our noses slide together and his eyelashes tickle my cheeks and our breaths mingle, humid, between us and...

The tingling between my legs seems to grow every second. It flickers, and sparks and aches and I don't know what for, exactly. Or, actually. I think I know exactly what for and the idea is so dangerous but somehow... completely exhilarating.

I can't help but imagine how easy it would be, for me to slide onto him and then feel him between my legs, no fabric between us this time. Somehow the centre of me is already so hot and slick again.

Until now I've never considered the serious possibility of it before.

You know.

Sex.

In my mind it's always been so far away, removed from everything else that we do, even if that's not technically true, I know.

The last base, the final step. I didn't realize that I'd... be... entertaining the idea. Wondering and considering and imagining, because it seemed like one of those things that applied to other people, not to me, not yet, because...

Well. I don't even know why, really, anymore.

Lots of people my age have sex, I think.

Right now I can't remember any potential consequences or reasons why not, because, I have an implant and we could use condoms and, well. He loves me and I love him and we're planning on being together forever, so, why does it matter when we finally do it, now or later?

Except I've heard and read lots of unfortunate, awkward, nightmarish stories about people's first times and I don't wanna get my expectations up. Especially because he's so big, and I'm little.

I guess, the more I think about it, the more I'm worried that it will be bad and painful and I just don't want to share unpleasant experiences with him, when it comes to this stuff. I want us to feel good together, make each other feel good, like we do now, and I'm worried that sex might not feel good the first few times and, I guess I just want to keep feeling good.

"What are you thinking about?" Luke grumbles, his lips scraping against my cheek as he talks.

My eyes dip shyly down to focus near his collarbone as I confess, "I'm wondering about if I'm ready for... you know."

I feel one of his big hands gliding over my hip, settling in the curve of my waist. He's leaning towards me a bit more now and my heart-rate spikes because, if he tilts even further onto his side, I'll feel him, bare, against my own bareness and... oh my gosh.

But the weird part is that I don't particularly want either of us to put our underwear back on, even if I'm a bit on edge with the possibility of us touching those parts of us together.

"I'm thinking about that too," he breathes gruffly. His words tickle my nose as he speaks and the lowness of his voice sends a stab of heat to the bottom of my gut, the same way his rough fingertips sliding across my skin makes my body ignite with energy.

I want to press myself closer to him. My body wants it. The possibility of it lingers and nags tauntingly at the back of my mind but the front of my mind is alert and wary and trying to make a good decision for myself, you know?

"Should we... talk about it?" I whisper, holding the side of his face and feeling his stubble prickle against my palm.

"That sounds like a good idea." Except his voice is throaty and husky and his breathing is shallower and his eyes are hooded and... it looks like he's getting hard again, and something tells me he isn't thinking much about talking at all.

It's difficult to describe the warm thrill that runs across my skin right now, travels across my whole body. Like, I'm fully awake and alert but somehow also in a heavy haze. It's a weird feeling, weighty but light at the exact same time.

My fingers thread into the dark hair at the nape of his neck and our mouths fit together, slow and tentative but so... hot and the same time, because it's bad and dangerous and hazardous and risky and wild but it's like that somehow just makes it better.

As my arms wrap around him and his arms wrap around me, he shifts onto his side and his hardness rests against his stomach, warm and twitching and growing thicker between us. My legs are squeezed together tight but it would be really easy for me to rub the front of me against him a little. I bet it would feel really good.

"Ophelia," he murmurs against my lips, stroking a hand through my hair tenderly before drawing my mouth against his again, harder, more desperately.

Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God everything just burns and tingles and he's warm and hard and strong and his bare penis is nestled just above the bare parting of my thighs and...

I press closer and so does he. My arms are wound around his neck, knotted into his thick, messy hair, and his arms are wrapped around me too, a hand splayed over the small of my back, another on my shoulder-blades, and he's kissing me so fiercely and I'm kissing him back and everything is just hot and he's so... Luke. Luke Luke Luke Luke Luke...

As I lay onto my back, he comes to hover over me and his hard length sits between us, pressing into my stomach. I don't part my thighs around him but I could, and I know it, and as we kiss and he caresses my breasts, brushes against me everywhere, I know we should stop and think and talk and consider but...

I shiver, tingles breaking out across my skin, as he drifts his fingers over my hip, down to near where my thighs meet. He could... move himself, to touch those parts of us together. It wouldn't take very much at all, and then he's be touching me there, not with his fingers or his mouth this time, and...

He tears his mouth away from mine, buries his face against my neck, his breathing ragged and laboured. "We... have to stop, Feelz."

He props himself up with one arm and uses the other to hold the side of my face, to stroke a thumb over my cheekbone. He looks into my eyes and his are almost black from how much his pupils have expanded.

"Luke," I whimper, nudging his nose with mine. "I just... feel so much..."

"Me too, baby." With a deep breath and a groan he rolls off me onto his back, flushed and tousled, sifting a distressed hand through his sweaty hair. He swipes his palm roughly over his face before sitting up, looking around, blinking his eyes a couple times as if in a daze. His gaze settles on his boxers at the foot of the bed and he reaches for them, tugs them on reluctantly.

My chest heaves and my nipples are hard, taut peaks jutting into the air and as I come down from the adrenaline rush I realize how close we both were to... crossing another line. I don't know how much further we would have gone or where else we would have stopped, what would have happened.

I feel suddenly like I've crashed down back to here and now, a cold wave washing over my skin and utter confusion scoring my insides.

I sit up, hug my knees, watch him as he grabs his black t-shirt and then comes back beside me. "Are you cold?" he asks softly, offering his shirt to me, his eyebrows knitted together.

I accept it and shrug it over my head. It drowns me, is so soft and smells like him. As soon as I'm done slipping it on he winds his arms around my waist, falls back onto the bed so I topple on top of him. He squeezes me tight, nuzzles his head into the crook of my shoulder. "You good?"

"I... think so. Are you?"

"I think so."

There's so much I want to say except I don't know how to say any of it. How to tell him that I'm scared but I want, how I'm not sure but I'm curious but...

We hold onto each other silently, breathing the same heavy air, the tips of our noses connected and our lips an inch apart. I love looking into Luke's eyes like this, after we're both finished and tired and satisfied, to see the warm, rich brown colour sparkle back at me.

Except this time is different because... there are so many questions in my mind.

Am I ready for sex? Am I old enough? What will my parents think? What will everyone else think? Does that even matter? Will it hurt? How long will it take until we can get good at it? How do condoms even work? Does the world feel different when you aren't a virgin anymore? Do I want to loose my virginity yet?

"Luke," I whisper helplessly, feeling his soft hair beneath my fingers as I stroke my hand across the back of his head. "I think I want to but I'm scared."

His face get so soft. He hugs me tight again him and presses his forehead against mine and asks, "What are you scared about?"

I take a breath to collect my thoughts and then admit, "I'm scared that... it won't be good for a while because we won't know what to do..."

For some reason, his lips tilt up into a little crooked smile that makes warmth flood through my blood. "Actually, I think the mechanics of it are simple enough..."

I stifle my giggle into the dip of his shoulder. "That's not what I meant."

His expression gets more serious and he says, "It'll probably take lots of practice and... learning, and figuring things out but..." He presses a gentle kiss to my lips and gives my hip a soft squeeze. "We'll figure it all out together, right? Like how we figured out everything else?"

I nod. My fingertips trace distracted patterns over the top of his chest. "I think it would be nice to... be closer like that, you know?"

He lets out a low sound from the back of his throat. His voice sounds so gruff when he agrees, "We'd be really close." Against my cheek he mumbles, "I'd... be inside you, Feelz."

"Oh, Luke." The very thought of it is so... mind-boggling and intense. We'd be... so together.

I feel his hardness poking my belly again. For a few minutes there he started to soften but now he's... hard again, and I feel it so close to the centre of me and imagine what it would feel like to have him inside me like that and... it just makes me burn.

"But... I don't want it to be rushed or anything," he grumbles. "We should wait until we have some time to... do it properly, you know? When we aren't so tired?"

My mind immediately jumps to the fact that next week is spring break. I have the whole week off to do nothing.

Or, I could... do Luke.

Oh my God.

"Next week is spring break," I tell him, butterflies swarming in my belly. "Maybe... we could..."

I can feel his heart racing beneath my hand, feel how hot his skin is. "I'm not working very much over the break, so..."

I wonder if my parents would let us have another sleepover next weekend. Maybe if I told my mom why she'd... ugh. I don't even want to imagine any of that.

"Think about it," he rasps. "We don't have to, if you change your mind."

"I'll think about it."

As I fall asleep beside him it's all I'm thinking about.

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A/N:

Should they or shouldn't they?

XOXO Ami

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