Liar | Freddie Mercury

Chapter Thirty Two

He arrived just moments after I got home from work. We didn't speak a single word to one another. As soon as I opened the door for him, his lips were on mine and his hands were pushing my coat from my shoulders. While his left arm curved around my waist, the other pushed the front door shut behind him.

I tried to keep myself steady as he led me down the hall by placing his hands on my hips, walking me backwards. He didn't stop kissing me for even a second, and before I knew it, we were in my bedroom. My hands were shaking as I clumsily unbuttoned his silky black shirt.

I'd been thinking about this moment for the past two hours, and a part of me couldn't believe that it was happening. Only months before, I thought I'd never even be able to have a civil conversation with him. Now he was in my bedroom, kissing me like he'd never kissed me before. He was being rough, groping me as he pushed our bodies together and grazed his teeth over my bottom lip.

All I could hear was the sound of our feet clumsily moving across the floor, and the occasional pant from my own lips.

He broke our kiss to lift my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side. "I've been thinking about this all day," he said as his hands wrapped around my back, unclasping my bra effortlessly and letting it drop to the ground between us.

I pushed his shirt from his shoulders and pulled his chest into mine, my body practically shaking at the feeling of his skin against me. He stared down at me, his lips just inches from mine, but when I tried to kiss him, he pulled away slightly.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he said, slowly hooking his fingers into the sides of my leggings and pushing them down my hips. I could feel my cheeks burning as he watched me, waiting for a response.

I was far too shy to utter a single word. Instead, I reached for his trousers and unbuttoned them, hoping my actions would speak for me.

He brought his face down to mine but still refused to kiss me. "Tell me, Clara," he said and pushed the last bit of clothing down my legs, exposing me.

"You know what I want you to do," I said quietly. But he wasn't having it. He brushed his lips against mine but pulled back when I tried to kiss him.

"Say it," he said and took a step forward. With his thumbs gently digging into my sides, he slowly pushed me back until I landed softly on the pink sheets of my bed.

I looked up at him as his eyes trailed down my body. I wondered if he could tell that I was shivering. "What? You're not going to kiss me until I tell you?"

He took a step toward me, pushing me down until my back was flat against the bed. Using his knee, he hooked it under my thigh and pushed my legs apart, climbing on top of me. "I'm not doing anything until you tell me what you want," he said.

His left hand was pressed firmly against the bed, right next to my head, holding him up as his other hand trailed down my chest and toward my pelvis. But rather than touching me where I wanted him to, his hand found the inside of my thigh, caressing it just mere inches from where I needed him.

"Please," was all I could say, intimidated by his dark eyes staring down at me.

"Please what?" He was enjoying this way too much.

I squirmed, my face burning with embarrassment as I reached for his hand and placed it against me, "Please, fuck me," I finally said. That was all he needed to hear.

As soon as I said those words, he slipped two fingers inside of me, moving them back and forth harshly as my head rolled back. I was so beyond turned on that I felt like I could finish then and there. I needed him.