dancing in the stars (ballerina x singer wlw romance)

chapter thirty-four

SUMMER

Even though this is only the second time I've kissed her, when her lips brush against mine,
it feels like I found a safe place.
Her lips are so warm and soft, making me feel like floating in a pink cloud. I can feel the soft tickle of her breath beneath my nose, her fingers moving around my hair as I grab onto her. Our bodies are pressed together, not even a little bit of space between us, but we just keep kissing, without any care of the world. We kiss like we've been waiting for a kiss like this our whole lives, and maybe I had. Maybe I've been waiting for Willow my whole life, maybe it's way too soon to be thinking this, but what she makes me feel I didn't think it was even possible.

I ball my fist around the bottom of her shirt, and the hand in my neck brings me impossibly closer to her. Everything about this is so unreal, I'm scared I'm going to wake up at any moment, alone in my bed, but I know it's real when I feel her heartbeat matching mine, wild and crazy, like they're about to burst out of our chests. I know it's real when she lets out a small gasp when I slid my tongue inside her mouth, and thinking I did something wrong— I try to pull back, but Willow tugs on my hair to bring me even closer.
I can't exactly move too much for my leg, but that doesn't stop me from hooking my good leg over her lap, she hums something and gets comfortable, the movement bringing her shirt up a little bit and my hand makes contact with her skin for the first time.
I freeze for the smallest second, after all, this is the third time I've kissed a girl— and I have no idea what I'm doing, but Willow deepens the kiss, her tongue slides inside my mouth, making a small sound–almost like a groan– leave my lips, I grip her hip and squeeze softly, her skin is so smooth, warm, perfect— and, God. She's making me crazy.

Something warm tickles on my lower stomach– Am I seriously horny because of a kiss? But god, this kiss. Willow surely knows how to kiss a woman, even though she said she's never had before, the thought of her just trying to experiment with me crossed over my mind when she said she wanted to kiss me— but that's not Willow. I can tell that's not her.
To be even more honest, I just needed her to kiss me. I want her. She's all I want.
The thought scares the shit out of me, but I don't pull away. I can't, even if my lungs are begging me for oxygen. Just let me die here, I'd die a happy woman.

Willow rocks her hip against my thigh, humming when her center brushes against it. I've never heard her make a sound like that, and it has my thighs tightening around her, she makes another sound and— fuck, it might be my new favorite sound in the world. How is that even possible?
How is it possible that she fits so perfect with me? Or is it just my mind playing tricks on me? I don't want to find out, I want to kiss her for an eternity, feel her body pressed on mine, feel her hand on my cheek, my hair, my body. I want her so bad, and I can't ignore it anymore.

We can't also keep ignoring the way my hair is becoming too big of a problem to keep kissing. Why the fuck didn't I braid it? A few strands get stuck between our lips, and Willow pulls back tucking softly it behind my ear— but we stop kissing altogether, her chest raises and falls heavily, mirroring mine. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are dark, her hair is also a mess, and she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life.
I see a twinkle in her eyes, and my anxiety starts growing when she just keeps staring at me. Is she going to pull away? Is she leaving? Did she want this? Did we take too far? Did I ruin something? Willow just stares, her thumb tracing an invisible line over my cheeks, I'm pretty sure she's trying to connect my freckles, which makes me smile. My hand is still on her hip, touching her warm skin, and I start rubbing my fingertips against it— so softly that it feels like I'm touching a leaf.
We're both breathing heavily, our eyes never moving from each other. I'm trying to read her mind, and I'm sure she's trying to read mine.