8 #2
“Like, it all feels so new but ...” I stared down at our connected hands, unsure how to complete that sentence. It terrified me, if I wanted to be honest, just how easy it was for us to pretend we were something we weren’t.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he said gruffly.
We arrived at my place at that moment, and Uzezi told me to hold on, getting out of the car and making his way over to my door.
My trembling heart had made its way up to my throat as I took his hand, letting him help me out.
He reached back into the limo for my flowers, then motioned with his head toward the front door.
Nerves made my palms begin to sweat. What was going to happen now?
Was he—were we—? Was this it? Was it going to happen now—tonight?
Fuck, was I ready? Yes, it was only Uzezi, and I’d had an amazing time; yes, I loved kissing him and I was apparently ridiculously attracted to him, but sex was on a whole other level.
And, despite all these newfound feelings, this was still Uzezi.
Was I really ready?
Like he could read my mind, or see the panic on my face, despite my efforts to hide it, he nudged my hip with his. I glanced up at him as we stopped at the front door. He was smiling fondly.
“Tell me again what we agreed you wanted.”
It took me a moment to remember. I felt covered in heat when I whispered, my voice just as raspy as his, “To be ... edged.”
His eyes darkened impossibly further. “Exactly. We’re taking this at your pace, Ofure.”
“What about you?” I asked impulsively, a part of me wanting to extend this moment a little more so the night didn’t end just yet. “This isn’t just about me, you know.”
“I know,” he said, full lips quirking. “Our desires align; I want exactly what you want.”
“I don’t know,” I said, even though I did know.
I thought of that first Glitch for a moment, how that night, our desires had seemed to align, though we’d gone searching for that thing absolutely everywhere else but here—in this space of possibility between us.
“That still sounds very ... me-centred.”
“Does it?” He moved a little closer to me, and I hated the flowers for a moment for the precious space they held, keeping our bodies just that few inches apart.
“I want to take it slow, same as you. I want to wine you, and dine you, and—to use your own word—seduce you until we’re both strung so tight we eventually just ... explode.”
Oh God. I really hated those flowers for being between us right now. I wanted to kiss him, really fucking badly. And the way he was staring at me, like he wanted to devour my very soul, told me he wanted the same thing.
“Now, get your keys out so I can walk you up to your door.”
I blinked in confusion, swallowing to clear any signs of desire from my throat. “My ... door?”
He smiled patiently, playfully. “Yes, Fure. Your room door.”
“You’re walking me all the way up to my room?”
“Yes, I am.”
And the fluttering in my belly was back.
I dutifully turned and fished my keys out from my clutch.
I toed off my heels at the entrance, Uzezi doing the same with his dress shoes.
I could feel his eyes on me as I made my way up the stairs.
And if I put a little extra sway into my hips as I walked, no one else was here to judge me.
At my room door, which was the very first door on the right after the landing, I turned around.
My heart was pounding giddily. I truly felt like a girl coming back from her very first date with her handsome crush, the night already rendered perfect just because we were together.
Bernice was out with her other friends, and Fiona was hanging out with Tamara and Ezra, so I didn’t have to worry about my housemates coming upon me and Uzezi in this obviously compromising situation.
Uzezi dropped my flowers on the floor in the corner. Then he stepped right up to me, encouraging me to move a step backward until my back was resting against my door. His hands went around my waist, tugging firmly until my lower body was pressed firmly to his. My pussy warmed.
“Fure, baby.”
My pussy thrummed harder, the hungry bitch.
“Yes, Uzi, baby?” I answered breathlessly. Oh God. Was our fun, little call and response about to start sounding filthy?
“How did you enjoy our date?”
“Shall I rate you from one to ten?” I asked playfully, sliding my hands up his broad chest until I had them around his neck. He was almost a foot taller than me, so he had to lean down a little so our embrace was more comfortable.
It meant his forehead was almost brushing against mine when he answered, “If you must,” equally as playfully. His eyes kept bouncing between my eyes and my lips. My lips felt tingly. Sensitive. Needy.
“Ten out of ten, would date again.”
He laughed huskily. “Thank you for the honest feedback; I’ll make sure it stays that way.” I giggled. “Now that that’s out of the way, there’s something I’ve been dying to ask you all night.”
“Oh?”
His left hand slid down from around my waist to my hip. “When you put this dress on, were you thinking about how it was going to drive me absolutely wild?”
I subtly pressed my thighs together, trying not to breathe too heavily. “Honestly, I was only hoping when I sent you the colour scheme that we’d match.” He chuckled. “But ... just for ... research purposes, how exactly is it driving you wild?”
He locked his eyes with mine as his left hand dipped down, the tips of his fingers finding the top of the slit in the skirt.
I couldn’t breathe, could hear nothing but my pounding heart.
His warm hand wrapped around the outside of my bare thigh, then stroked upward, slowly, like he was either waiting for me to stop him or, more likely, he was trying to fucking torture me.
When I didn’t stop him, he continued moving his hand, still underneath my dress, until he was grabbing a handful of my ass. I could literally feel my panties growing damp.
“Been thinking about doing that all night,” he admitted, voice rough.
Like he wanted to remind himself where his hand was, he gave my ass a firm squeeze.
“I could get on my knees right now,” he continued, still in that low, raspy, sexy as sin voice.
“Or just push your dress up a little higher. Get my fingers on your sweet pussy. I bet you’re wet as fuck. ”
“Uzi,” I gasped, both extremely turned on and absolutely mortified.
He grinned, cocky and unapologetic, and I was swooning before he’d even leaned down to capture my mouth with his. I arched wantonly against him, moaning into the kiss. It was hard and rough and desperate, both of us panting into each other’s mouths.
“Ofure, give me your tongue,” he commanded after a few moments, and I practically short-circuited.
I shyly slid my tongue between his lips, and he sucked it into his mouth. I keened, rolling my hips needily against his. Hand still squeezing my ass, he adjusted our positions until he had one thick thigh pressed between mine, pushed up right where I needed it.
I cried out into his mouth, nails digging into his back, my hips jolting forward.
Holy shit, it felt like I’d actually come, just from that.
I rocked against his leg, shuddering with each grind of my hips, my clit so needy and sensitive each stroke felt like touching a livewire.
My underwear shifted with each movement, too, adding to the sensation; I was so fucking wet.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He panted into my mouth, still kissing me, while he ground his dick, hot and hard and thick, into my hip, the movement of his hips just as frantic and uncoordinated as mine. “Let me feel you take what you want.”
It’d probably take the world ending for me to stop at this point. He was also still squeezing my ass, practically massaging it, encouraging the rolling of my hips, his other hand cupping the back of my neck, holding me firmly to his hungry mouth.
I was going to come. Just like this. Fuck. Fuck. I was going to come.
He jerked away from me so abruptly I stumbled. I made a low, pitiful noise, reaching out to try and grab him back. Then I heard the sound of the front door coming open.
Uzezi was already opening my room door behind me, grabbing my flowers and shoving me inside before I could react. He closed my door gently, quietly, and we both held our breaths.
We waited a few beats. I didn’t hear anyone coming up the stairs, which meant it must’ve been Bernice; her room was the one downstairs.
Fuck. That was close.
We looked at each other, then burst into quiet laughter. He walked up to my desk and dropped my flowers on it, then scrubbed a hand over his face, his expression still light with amusement.
“Guess that’s my cue.” I shivered helplessly. His voice was still gritty.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. Shit. So was mine.
“Um. I’ll text you?” he said, and I shifted out of the way as he made his way to the door.
“Yeah,” I said again.
“Goodnight, Fure.” He smiled, and there my heart went, fluttering happily away. “Thank you for an amazing date.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”
“We can thank each other.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Get out of my room.”
He laughed, darted forward to plant a quick kiss on my lips, then he was gone.
I sank heavily onto my bed after I’d heard the front door open and shut, touching my lips like they were a foreign object.
My heart hadn’t stopped fluttering. And even though my pussy was mourning a ruined orgasm, still weakly throbbing, needy and unfulfilled, I couldn’t help but still think that this was the best date I’d ever been on. From beginning to end, hands down.
And I desperately ignored the tiny, growing fear that when this thing between us was eventually over, possibly nothing—and no one—was ever going to compare.