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She shakes her head fast and hard. "I can't, Harry. Do you know why I was out there?" She cocks her head toward the door.
"No. But I saw you and your father arguing on the dance floor. I went to get a drink for Ca--" I feel a flush rise on my neck as I remember Camille.
She purses her lips but doesn't say anything.
"I came back to the table and you were gone. Your father was staring at the front door. I walked out and I saw you crying in the snow."
"He told me whatever happened was my fault, too. Before I even told him what it was.." She says with a twist to her lips that belies the mournful expression in her eyes. "They wouldn't understand. I can't tell them."
"You don't have to decide tonight. But maybe now that you've told me, it might be easier." I prod.
She takes a steadying breath and smiles up at me. This time it reaches all the way to her eyes. I relax the grasp my hands have on hers and run them up the soft cashmere of her sweater's sleeves. I skim her collarbone and slide my hands inside the neck of the cardigan's open front.
I drag the material off her. Exposing her skin, all bronzed and perfect. The tips of my fingers skim her lightly, and a trail of gooseflesh erupts when the air touches her. I dip my nose and inhale, and she shivers.
“You smell so good.” I want to let my lips brush her skin, but I restrain myself. I want to make sure we’re done talking before I let myself touch her the way I want to.
"You are a vision, Lilly...you're so aptly named. Beautiful, a symbol of hope, it's just... right."
She sighs, long and heavy- as if she's been holding her breath as the sweater flutters softly to the ground. It's landing is silent, but I can feel the heaviness of the effect it's having on her. "How do you feel?"
"Sensual." She says and a beautiful blush makes her bronze skin glow and she looks down. "My mind knows that there's nothing wrong with that. I know that what happened isn't my fault. But I still worry that someone will misunderstand and that it'll happen again. So I cover up. No skin showing, no one can think I’m giving off the wrong vibes. And I’m very explicit about what I want in bed. " She whispers this to the floor, her voice quiet and heavy.
"Look at me, Lilly." I keep my hands at my side as I speak. "Lilly, the only people who wouldn’t understand are people who don't know right from wrong. People who don't respect anyone, not even themselves. That has nothing to do with you and nothing you do, nothing you wear can make those people see you any differently.”
She lifts my hand in hers and brings it up and lays it in the center of her chest.
“I want you to touch me. I love the way you look at me." She whispers, a small grin on her face, and it transforms her face. She's radiant.
"How do I look at you?"
“Like I'm a treasure.” She beams at me.
"You are.” She glitters. “I want to touch you, more than I want my next heart beat.”
She puts my hand on her bare shoulder and sighs as my fingers close around her.
"I want to put my mouth here." My fingers traces circles on her skin. My heart is thumping in my chest. I've touched her before but this time, with all of those words we've spoken, feels like the first time.
She nods, her eyes hooded and lazy now as they watch me.
"Is that a yes, Lilly?"
"Yes." She rasps, "Please." That last word so soft, yet so fucking loaded.
I lay my lips on her skin, it's so hot, as soft as an apricots skin and she smells like citrus. I let my tongue dart out to taste her and the salty sweetness of her makes my body tightens as it remembers how the rest of her tastes.
Her hands come up and grab my shoulders, her fingers digging into the fabric of my tuxedo's shoulders. Her forehead lands on my shoulder and hair covers us in a sweet fragrance that I know I'll never get tired of smelling. I sink my teeth into her shoulder and her fingers move from my shoulders to my hair. She holds my head tightly in place and whimpers
"Harry, I love that so much. Your mouth on me feels so..."
The crackle and pop of fireworks break burst our bubble, as surely as pin had pricked it. Like rabbits when they hear the crack of a twig under a hunter's boot, we freeze. The burst of light that illuminate the sky and send shimmers of light pouring in through the windows of the temple seem to break the spell that froze us.
We jump apart.
"Oh, God. It's midnight." She breathes and then a smile, as beautiful as the day is long spreads across her face.
"Happy New Year, Harry." She beams at me.
