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Conor
I told myself I was lifting the sheets on Aurnia’s sleeping form beside me in bed to check her fresh tattoo. I told myself that my eyes were trailing over her breasts beneath my oversized t-shirt simply on my way to her leg. That I peeled back the bandage at the inner most part of her thigh because I needed to make sure nothing was inflamed. That there were no signs of anything to worry about.
It was bullshite. All bullshite.
There was plenty to worry about. In fact, there was everything to worry about. Because I did all that for one reason and one reason alone: I wanted her. I wanted her gasping and shivering uncontrollably beneath my touch. I wanted my face between her legs, her taste on my tongue, the shimmer of her wetness on my lips.
The sound of the phone in the living room cut through my apartment. Shook my guilt to the fore. Stripped my dirty intentions bare. What if Aurnia woke up? What if she found me as I was? Rock hard. Yearning. On the fucking edge of doing something that I knew I shouldn’t, that I shouldn’t ever do.
I listened to Aurnia’s breathing to see if she stirred. The damned phone kept ringing. I pulled back the sheets to go and answer it. To face it. My guilt. It had to be Diarmuid. Calling about the girl he’d entrusted into my care. It had to be reality ringing. It had to be the cold, hard light of day intruding into the soft warmth of Aurnia’s cheek against my bicep. It had to be faced, didn’t it? I couldn’t just run from it forever. Stay in bed with my little thief till the end of time. I couldn’t…
The moment I moved to get out of bed, I felt fingertips brush against my cock, protected only by the thin material of my boxer shorts. Maybe Aurnia had just shifted in her sleep, hopefully dreaming nicer dreams than me.
But as those delicate little fingertips trailed up and down my throbbing shaft, my heart stopped and my chest clenched. I could no longer believe my little thief was asleep. Could no longer believe I was going to get up and answer that phone. Knew I never wanted to face reality ever again.
She’d caught me unaware. Caught me in a moment of weakness. That’s the excuse I’d give for not batting her hand away.
That and I was just so tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of denying myself. Of denying her.
Aurnia’s fingers were uncertain, almost trembling as she caressed me with a featherlight touch. It made me shiver despite the warmth of our bodies beneath the sheets. My desire was already driving me to grab her, to roll over atop her, to thrust deep inside of her, to command those delicate little fingertips to better use: on her nipples which were peaked through the thin material of my old t-shirt, on her sensitive clit as I fucked her hard.
As Aurnia touched me, her face, eyes still shut, remained peaceful and innocent. As lovely as an angel. The only evidence at all that she was fully aware of what she was doing, fully aware of the impact that she was having on me, on my body, was the slight quiver of her bottom lip, like it was already tingling from just imagining the things I could do to her. The pleasure I could give.
“Look at me,” I whispered, voice already tense, tight.
Aurnia’s fingertips grew bold as she slid them into my boxers and wrapped her little hand all the way around my cock. I tensed, holding back a groan I was sure would scare her. Her fingers hardly met as they looped around me and began to move. I thought I sensed a tremor go through her petite frame. Was it fear? Arousal?
Shame?
Shame like mine?
“I don’t want to open my eyes,” came her response a few quiet moments later after there had been nothing but our breaths growing heavier.
I wanted to grab her. I wanted to drag her out of the bed, prop her up against the edge, kick her bare feet apart, and take her from behind as her fingers curled in the bedsheets. I wanted to watch her body atop mine. Her hips rolling. My hands clutching at her breasts as if they were a lifeline. Her throat long as she threw her head back. I wanted to give her the pleasure of a woman. To fuck her like a woman. To tug the hair at the base of her neck like a woman. To make her teeth sink into the delicate sink at the base of my neck as she came, came over and over again like a woman.
Instead there, with sweet little lips and long doll-like eyelashes and a face shaped like a heart, was a child. Touching me tentatively, exploring me softly, slowly discovering what made my breath catch in my throat.
“Open your eyes, Aurnia,” I told her.
Her pinkie caught the bead of pre-cum which had slipped from my cockhead. She paused. Unsure. Afraid even. Had she not known how dangerously close to the edge her little ministrations were already taking me? Had she not known that I wouldn’t be able to endure this for much longer? Keeping myself still. Restraining myself. Holding back as she drove me off a fucking cliff with barely a touch.
Aurnia swirled my pre-cum across the head of my dick. I groaned and I was suddenly not sure of anything that Aurnia had or hadn’t known.
“Open your eyes,” I told her again, and this time it sounded like I was begging.
“I’m afraid to.”
“Why?”
I was practically gasping now that Aurnia was running her little fist up and down my length. Her fingers slick. Her grip loose but tightening.
“Why?” I pressed.
Aurnia held her hand still at the base of my shaft. I trembled in her hold. Twitched with need. Would she scream if I pinned her hands over her head? Would she thrash if I tore at the t-shirt that was mine? Would she open her eyes when I shoved violently inside of her because I couldn’t fucking take it any longer?
“Because I’m afraid that if I open my eyes, I’ll see that it’s not real,” Aurnia whispered her hand still damnably still. “I’m afraid I’ll see that you’re not real. Not really here. With me.”
Aurnia shuddered and I felt the tremors through my cock like an earthquake.
