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Undeniable.
Unmistakable.
Desire.
I wanted him.
God, did I want him.
It was such a pure, undiluted, almost raw sensation that I realized in the moment that it couldn't be as new as I wanted to believe, that it was something that had been there for a long while, likely buried under the ideas of friendship, of the taboo nature of it all.
Memories flashed across my mind.
Niro walking up to me from the ocean with a big shell in his hand, a big smile on his face, and the way my gaze had slid down his chest, following a trickle of water between his abdominal muscles until it disappeared under the low-slung waistband of his board shorts.
Niro and I doing some grappling practice because I was struggling to best anyone in my self-defense classes, both of us sweating and grunting and rolling around until, finally, his body came over mine, hips to my hips, knees pinning my thighs, hands pinning my hands over my head, the way my stomach had twisted in that moment, the way my heartbeat had skittered.
Later, the first time I let someone's hand wander places I'd never let them before, the way my eyes fluttered closed to try to escape into the sensation, and it was a flash of Niro's face in my mind.
No.
No.
It wasn't possible that, all along, there had been feelings toward him that I hadn't noticed. I was all about my feelings. You could ask anyone who knew me. I wasn't shy about them in any way. I was comfortable in expressing them. Even the weird or embarrassing ones. Even the uncomfortable ones. I analyzed and understood them all.
I didn't think I was capable of having a feeling that I didn't know was there, to acknowledge, analyze, drag my loved ones into talking about.
But there was no denying it either, was there?
There had been sizzles of attraction toward Niro well back into my teens when I truly came into my body, understanding intimately all its inner workings.
I had simply pushed them down, refused their existence, and I had done such a good job that I didn't even recognize them for what they were.
Niro's teeth gently nipped my lower lip, drawing a throaty moan out of me, something that made a low, sexy rumbling noise move through Niro, vibrating into my own body, as he took steps forward, pressing me back against the wall of my office building, his pelvis grinding into mine.
His hardness pressed against my lower stomach, and a needy, primal part of me lifted my leg, shifted it out to the side of his hip, opening me up to him, feeling his need rub against where I wanted him the most.
This time, when the moan escaped me, it wasn't low, wasn't quiet, as my fingers dug into the back of Niro's neck as he shifted his hips forward, grinding against me.
"Andi..." he said against my lips, trying to move backward, trying to pull out of my grasp.
My leg hooked around his lower back as my hands grabbed desperately at his shoulders.
"No," I whimpered as his eyes opened to look at me. I'd never seen them like that. Deep, penetrating, heavy-lidded, needy. Every ounce of me responded. The need was almost violent in its insistence, ricocheting off every nerve ending. "Please don't stop," I whimpered, circling my hips against him, drawing out a low hissing noise.
"Fuck," he growled, sealing his lips over mine again.
He kept his hips stubbornly back, and for one long moment, the desperation was all I could think of.
But then his hand moved between us, between my thighs, teasing over my clit through the layers of my clothes, his thumb working in slow, perfect circles that drove me up faster than I could have realized.
"We shouldn't—" Niro said, pulling back again, gaze on me as my eyelids fluttered open.
"Please," I whimpered, rolling my hips against him.
Whatever control he'd been holding onto snapped in that moment, his hand slipping up, sliding under the waistband of my pants and panties. He let out a low, primal, growling noise as his finger traced up my slick cleft to find my clit once again.
But this time, as he worked me, as he drove me up, his gaze was on mine, something that made it somehow even more intense, the need so acute it was damn near painful.
"Niro," I whimpered, so overcome with some emotion I had no name for in the moment, but needing to express it, let him know I was feeling it.
"It's okay," he shushed me, his other hand moving to frame my face, his thumb stroking out over my cheek as his other fingers slipped downward, slipped inside me.
A low, grumbling moan escaped him as my walls tightened around him, making his forehead press to mine as his fingers started to thrust. Slowly, almost lazily at first, then building momentum, getting more demanding as his thumb started working my clit again.
