Chapter Nine Kami
Chapter Nine
Kami
There we were—truly alone for the first time since Thiago came back to Carsville. Not in a car, not at school. No distractions. No excuses. Just us.
How can I explain how I felt sharing this moment with Thiago Di Bianco? Can you even imagine it? Just watching him cook made my thighs clench and my heart race like it was about to give out.
He was so sexy, so big and manly moving around in that tiny, cozy space.
Everything he did fascinated me. My eyes followed his enormous hands as they held on to the colander or opened a beer.
Everything he did turned me on, waking me from a sexual lethargy I hadn’t realized I’d been in until this last half hour alone together, culminating with him telling me I was the love of his life.
He wasn’t lying to me, was he?
No, he wouldn’t lie to me about something like that. But it was so crazy, so unreal, the thought that he had felt so strongly about me ever since we were kids. Why should it surprise me, though? I’d felt the same way about him. It was as if there were a cord pulling me toward him.
Have you heard of the red thread of fate?
That tale about how we’re destined to meet someone who will be the love of our lives?
It might sound ridiculous, but I knew my feelings for Thiago surpassed anything I could have felt for Taylor or Danny or any other guy.
With Thiago, things were just different.
I’m not saying the red thread legend is real, but maybe, just maybe, we were meant to be together.
“It’s funny because none of this seems real,” I said as he kissed my knuckles.
“We don’t choose who we love,” he said, looking at me the way every woman should be gazed upon at least once in her life.
“Do we choose who we fall in love with, though?” I asked.
He smiled, and the world spun around me faster and faster as he responded with a question: “Does that mean you’re in love with me?” He was trying to be clever.
“All I know is I know nothing,” I replied.
“Are you quoting Socrates to me?” he asked.
“Would you prefer someone else?”
“How about instead of talking, you put those lips to better use?”
We looked at each other, and the world seemed to stop. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It wasn’t showy. It began with a simple caress on the cheek before he wove his fingers into my hair, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine.
For a moment, things felt strange, as if we’d been blind and could now see for the first time, or as if our hands had been covered by gloves that had just been removed, and we could finally feel each other’s skin without anything coming between us.
I felt guilty, because I knew those blinders and gloves were more than metaphorical. They had a single, very concrete name: Taylor.
He had kept us apart. Well, not him, but me, because I was the one responsible, I was the one who had liked him, sought him out and agreed to be in a relationship with him.
But the whole time, just as in the legend, I had felt the pull of the red thread that tied me to my soulmate, tugging persistently.
“Come here,” he whispered, wrapping me in his huge arms and positioning me on top of him. There was hardly space, but that didn’t stop him, and soon he kicked the table back so he could kiss me the way he wanted.
His tongue in my mouth again after so long was a revelation. His scent filled the room, permeating everything. His massive hands moved up my back as I stroked his face. I couldn’t get enough of his stubbly skin, and I kept blinking to convince myself this was real.
We stopped kissing for a moment, but only to meet each other’s eyes, communicating things that were impossible to say with words—things we didn’t fully understand, and yet were so meaningful now, after all this time.
Without a word, he picked me up and carried me to his bed.
I let him. I knew he wanted me, and I wanted him.
We deserved that moment, just the two of us. We deserved that intimacy to step into a timeless space where no one and nothing could interrupt us.
Feeling his weight against me, the only thing I thought was, I’m home.
I belonged to that moment, to that place… To hell with the consequences, to hell with remorse, to hell with whatever I’d have to deal with later!
Something inside me needed to hold him tightly and never let him go, urging me to take advantage of every instant we could devote to our pleasure, letting our bodies speak to each other in ways that words failed to do.
He slipped his hand under my T-shirt, tracing intricate patterns on my skin, tickling me. “What are you doing?” I asked, giggling.
Thiago smiled, and I thought I would faint.
What was it about this boy that drove me so insane?
He hardly ever smiles, a voice inside said. The rarer something is, the more you appreciate it.
“I have a few reservations,” Thiago said suddenly, looking to me for the answers.
“About what?”
“I don’t want to screw things up with you… I don’t want to rush it. We don’t have to do this now, we can wait and see how things go, how you end up feeling about Taylor…” I put my hand over his lips, not wanting his brother to cast a shadow over this moment.
“Shh,” I said, pulling him close. “Whatever you have to tell me, tell me with kisses.”
And that’s what he did.
He kissed me and… My God, what a good kisser!
He took his time—I remembered he’d always been that way. Even when we were little and got candy, Thiago would always save some for later, while Taylor and I would pig out.
You’ve got to dose it out, he used to say, and he would nibble his chocolate or lick his lollipop slowly. Sometimes he’d even wrap it back up and save it for later. That’s how you make it last, he’d say.
And that was how he did it with me.
And it drove me wild.
His mouth toyed with me, his hands undressed me, so slowly it felt like sweet torture.
I tried to tear off his clothes, I wanted a glimpse of his sculptured body, I wanted to kiss him all over, but he wouldn’t let me. He held my wrists with one hand while the other peeled away each of my layers, licking, biting, and kissing every last corner of my body.
Fully realizing where he was headed, I felt shy and hesitant, but at the same time, I was eager.
He started gently, kissing around me, getting closer, making me throb with pleasure. Then he reached my center and licked and kissed. I could feel his hot breath, and I thought I would literally die from it all. He was savoring me as if I were the most delicious fruit.
“I could stay here all night,” he whispered into me, taking me to the edge of orgasm. “Not yet,” he said, sitting back and pressing me into the mattress.
Outside, the snow had turned to rain, and the pitter-patter against the tin roof created an absurdly romantic mood inside the caravan. I never wanted to leave.
“Not yet?” I asked.
Did he know what he was doing to me? That he had transported me to another universe? Did he know how hard it was for me to even get there—how much it meant to be pushed that close to climax, only for it to slip away?
“You’ll come when I tell you to,” he said.
I was so turned on by those words that when his tongue touched my clit again, it was like a bomb going off.
Neither of us expected that, and once my scream had ended—that was the first time I’d ever come so hard, so it had been impossible not to scream—I felt as though something long trapped inside me had finally been set free.
It set Thiago free as well. His reserve was gone—he was no longer the guy who saved his candy for later—no, he wanted something, and I could tell he wanted it now.
“I can’t believe you came,” he said in a gruff voice, not so much angry as frustrated. Meanwhile, he kept tearing off more layers of my clothing.
“Jesus, you’re like an onion,” he said, making me laugh as he stripped off my undershirt, then he pressed his palm into my lips and confessed, “I need to fuck you, Kam.” This wasn’t anything to laugh at. He continued: “I need to fuck you for hours. Once or twice won’t be enough…”
“You’re ambitious,” I told him, feeling around for his erection and giving it a squeeze.
My God, he was so hard…
Now I was the one in control. He let me take over, and I moved slowly down until my mouth was nearly touching the tip.
Then I licked, nibbled, kissed—I was trying to replicate what he’d done to me.
But in seconds, he had sat upright, and with a wild look in his eyes, he commanded me, “Put it in your mouth.”
I didn’t hesitate. I was happy to do it. I had never been one to save anything for later.
I sucked on him as long as I could, bringing him to the verge of orgasm, but I knew if we went on like that, we’d never get around to the main event, and I needed to feel him inside me.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he said, reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a condom, which I watched him slip on. I lay back, waiting for him to lay on top of me, but he surprised me by saying, “Get on all fours.”
I started to sit up, but he couldn’t wait, and he grabbed my waist and pulled me backward.
I’d never done it that way, and I knew it would be new and different.
Especially with him, because he was older, because he had experience, and because he had awakened something inside me no one ever had before: a hunger, an urge to feel pleasure with every fiber of my being.
When Danny and I had done it, it had been a disaster. With Taylor it had been nice, slow, pretty, romantic, but even then, I can’t say I was satisfied.
Thiago, though—he drove me crazy. He revealed a part of me I hadn’t known existed. And I can’t tell you how liberating it was.