Being Blinded

Chapter Seventeen

I don't hold the belief that other people can soothe the chaos in my head, nor do I think that falling in love was the magic cure for everything keeping me up at night. The gummies help, but so does things changing.

There isn't a million awful possibilities running through my head, knowing that Phoebe is alone, because she isn't anymore and even if she was? Learning to have faith in the way she is growing isn't as hard when I'm not focusing more on her than I am on myself.

It's a slow process but I didn't even realise I was changing too, not until the ache in my bones has started lessening, replaced instead by the delicious burn of my muscles, all thanks to Alfie.

I never expected an instant 'I love you' in return, if that was the goal in telling him then we would never grow together. Instead, my forcefulness would only push him back into the depths of his own head, it's strange though, realising that admitting it without a response doesn't feel like the world is ending. Not with him, not when this sense of surety gets stronger with everyday spent with Alfie.

I don't think he's ready to say it out loud, maybe not completely okay with what it all means but somewhere in the depths of my heart. I know it's already there.

Just because the verbal exchange hasn't hit the air yet, doesn't mean that I can't feel everything, with every brush of his fingers against my skin. The bite of his nails against my skin when I push back against the hard ridge of his cock that lays nestled between my legs.

There's this resistance that lives between us, worn down with every joining of our bodies. A cautiousness that blooms from the deepest of our desires, there matching ferocity that we wade further into, it's this bubbling cauldron of heat, of promise that we haven't quite fulfilled just yet.

Sunlight stains the top of our pillows, pressed against the headboard, and bathed in light that skates past closed lids every time I move bleeds more awareness through my body. So close against Alfie's body that I can feel his heart beating hard against my back, warmth soaks through my skin and the slow drag of his fingertips against my hips makes my body tremble.

There's an ache between my legs that reminds me of last night but throbs with this insatiable need to be touched once more. To continue until we are moulded together the way my heart demands that we be, the lines blasted from our minds, leaving us with nothing else but the very truth of each other.

My body shivers as his palm drops flat against my skin, fingers skimming down the front of my stomach until they are pressing under the thin material of my shorts. Much to Alfie's chagrin, remaining clothed while sleeping is something he hasn't been able to convince me to give up.

Alfie doesn't break our quiet silence; the sun might be shining but Cam and Imogen have already left, and Hugo stayed with Claudie last night. Knowing they're home hasn't ever stopped me, there's no desire to lock the door either way but a part of me hopes he'll take it further now we are completely alone.

He has the kind of restraint that I'll never possess, it's why my thighs press together and my body shuffles back against his, moulding myself further into space that doesn't exist. One of Alfie's arm moves from where it lays under my pillow, sliding against the mattress until his forearm is bracketed loosely over my throat and face slotted between his jaw and the pillow.

It dangles, his restraint, the threads have loosened and threaten to snap under the weight of our desire.

The possibility, for all the awful things I have been fantasising about for months to be so close and within reach, makes my heart pound even fiercer against my ribs. A rattle and echo that is felt throughout my entire body, his fingers dance against the pulse point at my neck.