14. Caius #2
Her pupils dilate. "Then don't pretend."
I kiss her like I'm drowning and she's oxygen. She responds instantly, legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer. The slick fabric of the dress rides up her thighs, and my hands follow, tracing the bare skin there with reverence.
"God, Hallie." I break the kiss to trail my mouth down her throat, tasting the salt of her skin, the faint floral scent of whatever perfume she's wearing. "You have no idea how many times I've thought about this."
"Tell me." Her fingers thread through my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me groan. "I want to know."
"Every time you came to the shop." I nip at her collarbone, soothing the sting with my tongue.
"Every time you bent over to pick up a book or stretched to reach a high shelf.
Every single Sunday dinner when you'd laugh at something my mom said and I'd just sit there like an idiot, memorizing the sound. "
She whimpers, head falling back to give me better access. "Caius?—"
"You drive me crazy, Hal. Always have." My hands slide higher, thumbs brushing the soft skin of her inner thighs.
"The way you hum when you're concentrating.
The way you argue with me about oil changes like you know better than a certified mechanic.
The way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. "
"I—oh." Her hips rock forward, seeking friction. "I thought I was being subtle."
"You weren't." I capture her mouth again, swallowing her moan. "And I loved it. Loved knowing you wanted me even when you thought you shouldn't."
Her hands fumble with my belt, graceless and urgent. "Too many clothes. Why are there so many clothes?"
I help her, fingers working the buckle while she attacks the buttons of my shirt. It's clumsy and desperate, nothing like the smooth choreography of movie sex scenes. It's real and messy and perfect.
"You're sure?" I ask when we're both half-undressed, her dress bunched around her waist, my shirt hanging open. "Because once we do this, I'm not letting you go. Ever."
She frames my face with her hands, eyes clear and certain. "I don't want you to let go. I want you to hold on. To claim me. To make me yours in every way that matters."
Something primal surges through me at her words. Mine. She's mine.
I hook my fingers in the lace of her underwear, dragging it down her legs with agonizing slowness. She shivers despite the warmth of the evening, goosebumps rising on her skin.
"Cold?" I ask, trailing my fingers along the path the lace left on her skin.
"No." Her voice shakes, trembling like the rest of her. "Just... nervous. I'm nervous. The best kind of nervous."
I pause, giving her space to breathe, to think, to be sure. I want her so badly it hurts, but needing her to be certain even more. "We can stop. We don't have to rush this. We can go inside, take our time in an actual bed like civilized people instead of?—"
"Caius O'Connor," she interrupts, grabbing a fistful of my open shirt and pulling me closer, her eyes blazing with determination and desire. "If you don't touch me right now, I swear to God?—"
I drop to my knees on the concrete floor of the garage, pulling her to the hood. Her eyes go wide.
"What are you—oh. Oh."
I press a kiss to her inner thigh, then another higher up, watching her face the entire time. "I told you. I want to worship you. Every inch."
"You don't have to?—"
"I want to." I meet her eyes, making sure she understands. "Let me, Hal. Let me show you how I feel."
She nods, breath coming in short gasps, and I lower my mouth to her.
The sound she makes is worth every year I waited. I take my time, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her grip the hood so hard her knuckles go white, what makes her say my name like a prayer. She tastes like heaven and sin and everything I've ever wanted, and I can't get enough.
"Caius, I can't, I'm going to—" Her thighs tremble around my head, and I double down, pushing her closer to the edge.
She comes apart with my name on her lips, head thrown back, the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.
I don't give her time to recover. I stand, pulling her flush against me, kissing her deep so she can taste herself on my lips. She moans into my mouth, hands scrabbling for my belt again.
"Need you," she gasps, her voice ragged and desperate. "Now. Please, Caius."
My hands shake, actually shake, as I finish what she started, fumbling with my belt buckle like some inexperienced kid instead of a grown man who knows exactly what he's doing.
I shove my pants down just far enough, the cool night air hitting heated skin.
I pause, searching her face in the dim light spilling from the shop windows, looking for any hint of hesitation, any second thoughts.
"You sure?" My voice strains with the effort of holding back when every fiber of my being is screaming at me to take what she's offering. "Hal, if we do this, there's no going back. I need you to be sure."
Her eyes lock on mine, clear and certain despite the flush on her cheeks, despite how wrecked she looks spread out on my truck. "I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."
I line myself up, pressing slowly inside her. We both groan at the sensation, her body stretching to accommodate me, perfect and tight and home.
"Okay?" I stay still, giving her time to adjust despite every instinct screaming at me to move.
"More than okay." She rocks her hips experimentally, and stars explode behind my eyes. "Move, Caius. I need you to move."