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Let me keep him.
Instinctively, I slowly lowered onto my back, taking his big body with me, while his lips never stopped loving mine. The only thing separating our bodies was the fabric of our underwear, as we both ground against each other, finding an itch that I never knew desperately needed scratching. Well, he was scratching that itch right now. In fact, I never wanted his weight to leave my body because I couldn’t remember a point in time where I felt this complete.
And then we started to touch each other. It was deeper. More serious. Harder. Softer. More loving. More everything. The shape of him, the feel of his skin on mine, it was too much. It was exactly what I’d been waiting my entire life for.
“It’s okay,” I whispered a little while later, when the rest of our underwear had been cast aside on the tree-house floor. “I want this.” My heart hammered in nervous anticipation when he moved into position between my thighs, with a condom sheathing his impressive ladder. I didn’t move an inch for fear of scaring him off. I needed him to not run away, because I honestly felt like I would die if this boy didn’t join his body with mine. “You’re shaking all over.”
“Well, yeah,” he croaked out, leaning in close to brush his lips against mine. “That’s what happens when you’re nervous.”
“You’re nervous?”
“I feel like I’m holding glass in my hands here, Claire.” He pulled back to look at me, body trembling worse than mine in this moment. “Of course, I’m nervous.”
Something tugged at my heart then, something deeper than affection, stronger than friendship, more permanent than forever, and I pulled up on my elbows. “I love you.” Lips grazing his stubbly jaw, I nuzzled his cheek with mine and pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I want it to be you.”
“I’ve only ever wanted it to be you,” he whispered, as a full-body tremor racked his big frame. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
“Do it.” Shivering in fearful anticipation, I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him hard. “Just go slow.”
Blowing out a shaky breath, Gerard leaned forward, rested his brow against mine, and pushed.
And then he was deep inside of me.
The initial jolt of pain that coursed through me was enough to sting my eyes with tears, but I held my nerve, too enraptured in the moment to care. Because this boy. If there was pain to experience, I wanted it to be at his hands.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I nodded through the pain, through the feel of him moving inside of me, of connecting with me in a way that no other human had before. It was overwhelming and terrifying and beautiful all at once. “Don’t stop.”
He kept his weight off me by resting his forearm on the floor beside me. His free hand moved from my face to my thigh, hitching me closer, aligning our bodies until we connected in the most basic and primal of human ways.
His eyes were clenched tight while mine were wide open, taking it all in, every inch of him. All of my senses were in overdrive. The smell of the washing powder on the duvet beneath us, the salty taste of his skin around his throat when my tongue snaked out to taste him. The delicious weight of his hips and how when they rocked deeper, the pressure grew.
Feelings were flooring me. I was drowning in him in this moment. It was incredibly overwhelming. It was like playing the lottery for sixteen years and finally winning. The feeling of euphoria and uncertainty colliding.
I couldn’t tell which one of us was shaking most. I thought it might be an equal effort because Gerard seemed as deeply affected by this moment as I was.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, cupping his neck with my hand. He looked like he was in physical pain, as he clenched his eyes shut and moved inside me. “Gerard?”
“Yeah.” Nodding, he kept his eyes closed. “Keep talking.”
“Talking?”
“Your voice.” He released a pained groan and buried his face in the curve of my neck, hips still thrusting. “I need to hear your voice.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know it’s you touching me.”
64
Losing Virginities and Consciousness
GIBSIE
“So.” Body rigid, I clutched the blanket draped over us and stared up at the roof. Seriously, I was so stiff I was halfway toward rigor mortis. “That was different.”
“Very different,” Claire agreed from her perch beside me as she also clutched the blanket and stared at the roof.
