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Cupping my cheeks in his big hands, and with his gray eyes locked on mine, he brushed his nose against mine affectionately. Once. Twice. And then his lips were on mine.
Feeling weak, I reached out to steady myself, finding purchase in the part of his shirt that was covering his chest. Fisting the fabric tightly in both hands, I fell into the moment, letting his lips guide mine like he had guided me a million other times in a million different ways.
I’m going to love you through all of this, I mentally told him, even when I do something that’s going to make you hate me.
The lyrics of the song were dripping into my subconscious, and I was feeling every word in the deepest part of my soul. Every note seemed to hold a direct line to my feelings and desires.
Because I did want to fade into him.
I wanted to wrap myself around his broken body and chase his demons away with warmth and love. I wanted to cry because of the unfairness of it all. I wanted… I just wanted.
When his tongue touched mine in a slow drugging move, I felt my abdominal muscles tighten. Somewhere even deeper inside of me, I felt a delicious dull aching throb that seemed to have a pulse of its own.
The more he kissed me, the faster my heart beat, and the stronger the ache grew. It was a primal feeling I had no control over, one that seemed to take on a life force of its own. Being with him felt effortless because it felt so natural. Like this is what I was supposed to do. These lips were the ones my lips had been waiting for and no other lips would do.
These hands were the ones my body accepted without question or doubt.
This boy was the boy.
The boy my heart had been created to beat for.
The boy I was made to love.
It was effortless.
Clenching my eyes shut to hide my tears, I kissed him for all I was worth, telling him with my touch everything I couldn’t say out loud.
I believe you, Gerard Gibson.
I believe you.
I believe you.
I believe you.
75
Let Me Do This for You
GIBSIE
There was something very wrong with my girlfriend, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the whole Dee thing, but Claire wasn’t acting like her regular self.
First off, she had disappeared from the dance for well over an hour, and when she reappeared, she’d clearly been crying. After point-blank refusing to tell me what was wrong, she had clung to me on the dance floor.
When she started kissing me to the point where we were making a scene, I knew something was off, but I was too fucking drunk and horny to slam the brakes on her sudden neediness. Hence our current predicament.
With her dress pooled around her hips, and her tits on full display, she pushed me down on the couch in the empty sixth-year common room. We weren’t supposed to be here clearly, but when she put her mouth on me, any and all rules went out the window.
Climbing on top of me, Claire straddled my hips and kissed me hungrily. I didn’t understand any of this, but the harder she rocked against me, the harder I grew. “Fuck.”
She was moving her body in ways I’d never felt her move before, like she was frightened of losing me or something. The only reason I noticed this behavior was because I felt it every time I was with her. When she unzipped me and slid her hand inside my boxers, I tensed.
“It’s okay,” she coaxed, palming me. Leaning in close, she kissed me gently before pulling back once more. With her brown eyes locked on mine, she released her hold on me and stood up. “Do you trust me, Gerard?”
“Yes.” Instinctively, I moved to follow her, but she shook her head and pushed me back down on the couch.
“And you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
