It’s a lie. I’ve already started the book Mom inspired the other night, but I don’t want to admit it.
“Well, that’s a shame, because it’s good. I would read this, Hazel. I’d recommend it, too.” He undoes another button on my dress, working his way down to my navel.
I’m at war with myself, one part of me panicking that letting this happen could ruin everything, anotherpart of me already lost to the sensation of his feather-light touch. My dress gapes open, and his hands slide inside the fabric and around my back.
“If it’s inspiration you need, I could help with that,” he whispers.
Despite myself, his playful smile makes me giggle. “I’m sure you could.”
He tickles my sides, making my giggle turn into a full laugh.
I twist and squirm. “Shhh! Don’t!”
He responds to my reprimand by swallowing my noises in a greedy kiss.
“Alright, time to get serious,” he says, but his smile tells me he has every intention of continuing to play.
I’m kneeling over him, with one leg on either side of his hips, but now, he takes hold of my waist and lowers me down. With steady fingers, he sets to work unbuttoning the last few buttons of my dress. When it falls completely open, he puts both hands behind his head, lounging back, and staring at me.
I tug at the dress, self-consciously wrapping it around me.
Cosmos stops grinning and unwraps my arms. “Let me look at you, Hazel.”
I hold my breath as he slides the dress off my shoulders. His eyes are hooded and feral and as dark as night.
Slowly, he pushes himself upright. He unwraps the rubber band holding my hair in its messy bun and combs his fingers through the locks as they fall down to my shoulders.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers.
I’m not. That’s what worries me. I should end this now, before there’s any chance of being hurt. But when he kisses me, I let him. Who am I trying to fool? I’m already too far gone to back out. I want to live in the illusion as long as he’ll let me. It’s intoxicating to be looked at this way, touched this way. Like I’m something precious. Beautiful. Awe-inspiring.
He unclasps my bra and flings it to the other side of the room with a boyish grin that completely melts my insides. Then he’s rolling us, laying me back on the bed, naked except for my thin cotton underwear.
I tug his shirt over his head, trying to even the playing field, and go a little crazed at the sight of him. He’s not overly muscular—I’ve never found that particularly attractive, though I know others do. He’s lean, chiseled with the grace of a runner or a dancer, which he apparently is, as I learned tonight.
Hopping off the bed in a smooth motion, he rips off his jeans before jumping back on top of me, peppering my body with kisses so light they almost tickle.
His hand moves between us, tracing the crease where my hip meets my thigh. I arch in invitation, and he finally brings his fingers where I want them. But the pressure is a little too hard. I open my mouth to say something, but bite my cheek. The one time I tried to tell someone I wanted something different in bed was with Kane. His response was,‘You’re as wet as a slip-n-slide, Hazel, clearly you like what I’m doing.’I didn’t think I liked it, but maybe I was wrong? I didn’t sayanything more after that. Later, I read wetness is just the body recognizing a situation as arousing, which is not necessarily the same as enjoyment.
But that conversation with Kane still sticks in my mind. The way he dismissed my feelings, how I shrunk back in on myself, that’s not what I want for my relationship with Cosmos.
But I don’t know how Cosmos will respond if I say something. I want to live up to the romance novel temptress he thinks I am.
Rather than saying anything, I hook my thumbs into the sides of his boxer briefs and work them down just enough to reveal what I’m really after. I take hold of his length and give a firm tug.
His hand between my legs stills as he groans into my neck, gently biting the soft skin at the base of my shoulder, making me shiver with pleasure. That’s better. That’s what I want.
“Want to try another experiment?” he asks.
No, I don’t want to be lab partners. I want you. All of you. No pressure. No experiments.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, swallowing back my protests.
Cosmos licks his lips. Pulling back, he yanks off his briefs and moves so he’s kneeling to my right. He gently takes off the last of my clothes and brings his hand back between my legs. Then he takes my hand and wraps my fingers around his shaft.
This time, his touch is soft. He start slow, brushing a finger along one lip, then the other, drawing circles on my clit and exploring every sensitive part of me.He keeps his eyes on my eyes, and I know this is part of his experiment. His fingers dance a new kind of salsa. Graceful. Smooth, but strong. Firm and demanding, but not hard. Twirling, spinning and… dipping.
Oh.
