33. Claire
33
I brace for the impact I’ve grown to expect when it comes to Leif, but it’s not there.
There’s no burning or blinding eclipse of carnal need. It’s a soul-consuming caress against my defences as his lips softly brush against mine.
Firm in their adoration but gentle in their approach. It’s a tenderness I’ve never explored before, never allowed myself to, knowing the dangers that can come with such vulnerability.
Whenever I’ve been with a sexual partner in the past, my attitude was always that of play. A calculated game to find a worthy opponent to get me to the finish line, who can match my fight. Give me all you’ve got, and we’ll see who comes out victorious, and you better hope it’s me every time.
But I’m tired of playing.
I’m tired of fighting.
I want to bask in the win of more than an orgasm and avoiding a broken heart. I’ve been fighting love for too long. With Leif, I want to yield.
I run my hands over the hard planes of his chest and wrap them behind his neck, forcing his lips harder against mine. I thrust my chest against him as if my heart is trying to feel his, to match his beats because I’ve realised mine only beats for him.
He takes my cue for more and bends down to hook his hands under my legs, pulling me up and guiding my legs to wrap around him. He doesn’t need to coax me. I’m already there, latching on and fusing myself to him.
I can feel my kisses turning hurried, frantic, but not because I’m trying to put us back in the desensitised place we were before. I’m desperate for him. I need to feel him in every iota of my being.
I wind my arms around his neck, locking him to me, feeling a crazed whimper escape me as he matches my restless need. He normally feeds my hunger with a ravenous appetite of his own, but it’s different tonight.
When we reach my room, he’s careful as he lowers me down onto the bed.
My heart is racing, but my mind’s at peace when he pulls back and starts undressing.
His bright blue gaze penetrates mine, only leaving as his shirt pulls over his head.
I kick off my black heels. My hands race to unleash the zipper of the strapless denim dress I’m wearing, and it feels as though I’m taking off my armour as well. I’m laying myself bare, physically and emotionally.
Leif kneels on the bed and crawls over my body, settling between my open thighs and throws a condom on the pillow beside my head before tossing his wallet aside to join the pile of his clothes.
I place my hands on his cheeks and pull him to me, closing my eyes as I breathe in the leather and sandalwood scent I love.
He easily gives in to me, resting his bare chest against mine, and meets my lips in a deep, promising kiss.
I feel his hand wind around me, sliding his fingers through my hair with gentle affection as his other hand caresses my neck. Fingertips dance over my pulse and snake over my shoulder, hovering in one spot for a moment to rub at the skin, as if he’s absorbing the emotions right as they emanate from me, before moving further down my arm, over my ribs. The touch is more of a firm massage once he reaches my waist, and I feel myself rolling against him, aching for a more deliberate touch, a deeper connection.
I wind my legs over his and thrust again. The movement pulls him further into me, making me gasp when I feel the wet tip of his cock hovering right at my entrance.
My eyes fly open to meet his, looking unsure but not afraid. He’s letting me decide. I’ve never been with anyone without a condom.
I was an unplanned baby, and it broke my mother. Her trust in romantic entanglements is entirely the reason I’ve always held back from giving in to love. Never wanting to let my emotions be at the mercy of someone else.
To experience such personal defeat for laying my trust in the wrong person.
I know in my heart that Leif isn’t that kind of person.
My heart’s worth shit with deciding who’s worthy of love and trust. It extends only to Lex and my mother. Not even entirely to my mother.
I know she loves me, and everything she’s done for me has been out of fear that I would be hurt like her. But everything that Lex and Leif have taught me about love tells a different story.
Mum always stood up for me and encouraged me in my pursuits, but she didn’t teach me how to love, how to forgive, and that it’s okay to make mistakes and be vulnerable.
Lex taught me that. So did Leif.
He gave me a safe space to make mistakes and fix them when they didn’t go to plan. He showed up whenever I called. I know he was showing up for sex; it wasn’t exactly a hard offer to deliberate.
But that’s not the way he made it feel. Ever.
How did Lex describe it, the way Caleb made her feel things? Present. When they were together, he was present.
That’s what Leif does.
When he’s here with me, he wants to be; he means to be. Nothing else matters but being present in the moment.
“I’m on the shot,” I whisper into the darkness.
The moon, as it shines through the lace curtains, places an icy glow upon one side of Leif’s handsome face. He stares at me with so much awe that I feel stupid, pesky tears threaten to gather as I take in the other side of his face hidden in the shadows.
I lean over to the bedside lamp, clicking on the switch and filling the room in a deep amber light.
With my back resting against the pillow, I touch my finger along his temple and down his cheek, taking in all his features, now fully visible under the light.
I shuffle further down the bed, under his warm naked body as it weighs me down, letting the head of his cock nudge my clit before my already slick pussy slides down his shaft, coating him in my arousal.
He hisses as I slowly roll my hips, feeling every bare inch of him slide between my pussy.
“Are you sure?” he asks, looking deep into my eyes.
I nod. “I’ve never gone without one before.”
I let the words hang between us. And fuck, I’ve just realised it may not be the same for him.
He’s a nice guy, a passionate lover. He doesn’t give off fuckboy vibes, and he easily could have been in a relationship before that’s reached a level of intimacy where you forgo that barrier.
“Neither have I.”
Oh, god, this is it. He kisses me now, in a way no one has ever kissed me before. He’s sealing my fate. Our fate.
Our lips continue to crash together like unrelenting waves against a shore.
My hands can’t stop their pursuit as they run over the muscles in his back and over his shoulder. I bury fingers in his soft blond hair as our mouths open and tongues lap against each other, consuming the other’s emotions as we freely exchange our hearts.
I feel his knee nudge under one of mine as his hand pulls the other higher and over his hip, flaying me open.
He matches my strokes with his own, continuing to let his bare cock slide between my pussy lips, grinding harder every time the base of his cock meets my clit and the ring there.
“Yes,” I whimper.
His hands move with an ardent touch up and down my thigh and hip.
“I wanna eat your pretty pussy, but I also need to feel you clenching around my bare cock, baby. Help me. What do I do? Tell me what you need,” he says against my lips, not letting up in ensuring every part of him is touching every part of me.
“I need you.”
“Fuck.” He kisses me hard, then pulls back, looking down between us where his hard length drags down and back up through my heat with barely-there restraint.
When he drags back down again, he pauses at my entrance, then looks at me. I feel my breath pick up.
I’m lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, or maybe it’s the intensity of the moment, and then, with aching ease, he pushes into me.
I shudder as I feel every inch of his him glide along the quivering walls inside me. We both moan when he becomes fully seated to the hilt.
I can see every ounce of his pleasure in real time as he feels it. Like a gateway to his emotions, he wears it on his face. It’s euphoria. Admiration. Love.
He pulls out and thrusts back in with the same leisurely pace. Deep, grinding rolls that feel like they’re drugging my mind and body every time he nudges at my G-spot, holding it there before repeating the motion over and over.
I can’t take the distance any longer.
I prop myself up to meet his lips, letting them bruise over his with the same sluggish momentum of our hips.
He pushes me back down and rolls us over, so I’m seated astride him.
His hands fly to my hair, massaging at my scalp and tangling in the tresses. I continue to roll against him, picking up the pace as I feel my orgasm cresting.
I want to wrap myself around him, but I can’t in this position.
I push my hands against the mattress and push, holding on to one of Leif’s shoulders, encouraging him to follow me.
We’re sitting upright over the side of the bed. I’m seated on his lap with my knees resting against the mattress so I can continue to push up and down, bouncing on his cock.
His arms lock against my back like a boa constrictor, and I wrap mine around his head, cocooning us in our bubble of lust and devotion.
“Claire,” he murmurs against my lips, and it’s like he erases any other time he’s said my name before.
I’ll only ever want to hear it again the way he just said it.
Like a declaration that no one will ever love, honour and respect me the way he will. The way he does.
It’s with that knowledge that I crumble around him, crying into his neck. “Leif.”
He continues pumping up into me, following close behind, but not quite there yet. “I want you to come inside me,” I say.
He stutters for a moment, and I pull back to look in his eyes. My pussy is extra sensitive, but I continue to roll over him and say it again.
“Please, baby. Come inside me.” It’s my exposed emotion that does him in.
My pleading words to share in the raw truth of our connection that makes him let go. Helping me to let go of all the ways I’ve held back before.