“And you’re not scared?”
“No. I trust you.”
But maybe I should feel scared. After all, this could end with me in pain, or crying, or I don’t know what else. At the end of the day, though, even if this goes horribly wrong, or even if we don’t even get far enough for this to go horribly wrong, I know Harrison is still going to love me. And for that reason, I’m not scared.
Harrison’s eyes flutter closed, and I match his breathing.
Inhale.
Exhale.
His hands trace their way down my sides, over my goose-bumped skin. My breath stutters as he reaches between my legs, and I focus on the feeling of his fingers and their delicate strokes. Soft sensations. Gentle butterflies. The warmth of his body.
I center myself, noticing the way my muscles respond. They flutter and they tense, sometimes in a positive way, sometimes negatively. I breathe through the negative, imagining my muscles warming and melting as his fingers continue to massage me.
“I can feel your mind working,” he whispers into my neck. The words are hot against my skin.
“You canfeelit?”
He chuckles just as the circles his fingers have been drawing start to grow tighter. I quiver from the sensation, and his grin brushes against my neck, his breath sending my baby hairs fluttering.
“Fuck,” I murmur.
He drags his lips up the sensitive skin at the side of my neck and whispers in my ear. “Working on it.”
I whimper instead of responding.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“Okay,” I say. “Stop. You’re going to make me—” I’m cut short as Harrison hitsexactlythe right spot, and my muscles flutter. My body shakes again, and his fingers slow.
“Was that a good reaction or a bad reaction?” he whispers.
“A good one,” I say, my voice breathy. “Seriously, don’t make me come yet. That’s not the goal.”
“I can have multiple goals,” he says, kissing my cheek, and then my nose, and then my forehead, and then my lips. “And you can have multiple orgas—”
“Harrison!” I say, cutting him off as I laugh. “I’m trying to focus. Save that for after.”
He nods his head. “Don’t worry. I will. Once we’ve tried this, I’m going to make you feel so good, you’re—”
I lean forward and stop him with a kiss. He laughs into my mouth, then lingers, kissing me slowly and sweetly before pulling away and looking me in the eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you wholly,” I whisper back, brushing a curl out of his eyes. “And I’m ready when you’re ready.”
Harrison runs his thumb across my cheek, studying me. Even after months of dating, he still acts like every look on my face and every word from my mouth is worth filing away.
I suppose I shouldn’t make fun of him for it, though, since I do the same.
He grabs the bottle of lube from the bedside table, and I hold out a cupped hand. He deposits a hefty amount, and I slide my hand down our bodies.
He hisses when I make contact. “That’scold,” he says.
I smirk. “Yeah, well. It’s, like, two degrees outside. You shouldn’t have kept this in a drawer next to a window.”
“It’s thirty-eight degrees,” he says, rolling his eyes even as his body trembles from the up-and-down strokes of my hand. “That’s nothing.”
