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Valen’s fingers trailed over me lightly. Not in a teasing, denial sort of way, more like foreplay. I rocked against him, encouraging him. Without breaking our kiss, he slid his hand into my panties and didn’t stop sliding until his middle two fingers were buried deep inside me. I was so wet for him that there was zero resistance.
He thrust almost lazily as he kissed me deeper, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a similar rhythm to his fingers. I moaned softly against his lips.
His thumb found my clit, grazing it softly as his fingers kept up their slow and steady pace inside me. My hips rocked with him.
It was slow. It was sensual.
My orgasm crept up on me and enveloped me like a big warm bed at the end of a really hard day. And the whole time, Valen’s lips barely left mine. Not for more than a moment as they explored my cheek or down my neck.
He stroked me softly and gently as I got my breath back, teasing out the last strings of pleasure as they zinged heat around my body.
Suddenly, there was a buzzing at my leg. I looked down and realised it was coming from his pocket.
“Always interrupted,” he murmured a kiss against my temple as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He read over the text and sighed. “Marco’s insisting on a photo shoot,” he said, disgust evident in his voice.
I laughed, then bit my lip to stop it as he looked up at me sharply.
“Sorry,” I said. “But…you do look…awesome.”
He shook his head as his fingers trailed down my cheek and he looked at me tenderly. “You’re beautiful, Harlow,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
I felt like, maybe, he wasn’t just referring to my outsides.
“Valen, I–”
He shook his head. “Not now,” he pled. “Just let me have now.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but I nodded.
He gave me a sad smile, pressed a lingering, longing kiss to my lips, then slipped out of the bathroom.
With a sigh, I slid off the counter and turned to the mirror. My makeup was a little smudged, but it could have been worse. Considering how much body paint was going around that night, it definitely could have been worse.
For example, once I was cleaned up and back at the party, I noticed that Florence had a little more shading going on than previously and Marco’s skull looked like it needed a trip to the dentist.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, pretty much the whole of the top two year levels were the worse for wear. Those few who hadn’t come to Apollo’s party weren’t the type to drink even if they had come.
Apollo, Valen, and I had got a Callahan car back to school that morning, arriving just in time for morning mass. Apollo didn’t take his sunglasses off until we were sitting down in our pew, and Valen didn’t even bother. Sister Agnes almost told him off, but seemed to think better of it on second thought.
As I sat down next to Florence, I could feel her buzzing with questions. She knew I’d snuck off with Valen, of course she did, but we’d yet to have time to really talk about it.
The rest of the party had passed in a blur. All I could remember was lots of laughing, always smiling, Apollo’s hand on me constantly, his lips at my ear, and the ache in my feet suggested there had been a lot of dancing involved. I couldn’t remember Florence getting on the bus to head back to school. I was fairly certain I’d tried to convince her to stay with me, but she’d never like the Callahan Estate. She said it was full of ghosts, whatever that meant.
Choir practice was the first time we’d really been together without either Apollo or one of his Angels being within ear shot. It was like Marco knew we had something to talk about and was trying to stall us as long as possible.
“So?” Florence whispered while we were supposed to be singing the aria.
“So, what?” I whispered back.
“What happened?”
“What do you think happened?”
“You fucked him?”
Exie turned around with a raised eyebrow and Florence flashed her a quick grin. As much as I liked Exie, she was just another Saint to Florence, and I didn’t blame her. Exie hadn’t bothered to get to know Florence either.
