His & Mine | Sequel to Make It Known | DISCONTINUED

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Temptation

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Temptation

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Ophelia:

I'm in trouble.

I'm... naked.

He's naked.

Together, at the same time, holding each other, and I can't think straight. My entire body seems so intensely aware of him, so on edge and bright and mushy. His smooth, tan skin, the planes of lean muscle that define his arms, his shoulders, his chest, his legs, the little bit of hair scattered across his body, beneath his arms, his lower abdomen, his thighs. His smell, so masculine and dark and woodsy...

His skin is warm to the touch, emits so much heat. As I lay on my side, cuddled against him, he tilts his head towards me and I stroke my fingers through his hair, run my other hand over his abs. Our noses slide together and his eyelashes tickle my cheeks and our breaths mingle, humid, between us and...

The tingling between my legs seems to grow every second. It flickers, and sparks and aches and I don't know what for, exactly. Or, actually. I think I know exactly what for and the idea is so dangerous but somehow... completely exhilarating.

I can't help but imagine how easy it would be, for me to slide onto him and then feel him between my legs, no fabric between us this time. Somehow the centre of me is already so hot and slick again.

Until now I've never considered the serious possibility of it before.

You know.

Sex.

In my mind it's always been so far away, removed from everything else that we do, even if that's not technically true, I know.

The last base, the final step. I didn't realize that I'd... be... entertaining the idea. Wondering and considering and imagining, because it seemed like one of those things that applied to other people, not to me, not yet, because...

Well. I don't even know why, really, anymore.

Lots of people my age have sex, I think.

Right now I can't remember any potential consequences or reasons why not, because, I have an implant and we could use condoms and, well. He loves me and I love him and we're planning on being together forever, so, why does it matter when we finally do it, now or later?

Except I've heard and read lots of unfortunate, awkward, nightmarish stories about people's first times and I don't wanna get my expectations up. Especially because he's so big, and I'm little.

I guess, the more I think about it, the more I'm worried that it will be bad and painful and I just don't want to share unpleasant experiences with him, when it comes to this stuff. I want us to feel good together, make each other feel good, like we do now, and I'm worried that sex might not feel good the first few times and, I guess I just want to keep feeling good.

"What are you thinking about?" Luke grumbles, his lips scraping against my cheek as he talks.

My eyes dip shyly down to focus near his collarbone as I confess, "I'm wondering about if I'm ready for... you know."