Page 21 of Expressionate
I reach forward and sink my hands into his light hair. "Yeah," I say, absently. His hair is sosoft.
"Thank God," he mutters before shoving my underwear down as well. His fingers dig into my ass as he pulls me forward and tongues my clit. I jerk. My shoulder bangs into the brick again, and I wince. That's going to hurt tomorrow. Hell, it hurts now. But as I look down on the boy under my dress, I don't think I care very much. This isn’t sobad.
As his tongue touches me, my mind drifts. Soft streaks of something soothing make their way up through his ministrations. The air isn't quite as warm as I thought it was when I was inside. Everything in there was heated: the air, the people, even the cheap beer was warm. Outside, it's actually kind of cold. I don't have a lot to cover me up, but the boy's hands are hot as they trail across my skin. They're so hot, they burn. He startles me when he pulls back from my pussy, his lips wet, and stands, palming the back of my head and slamming his mouth over mine. He's not drunk, I realize. There's no alcohol on his breath. I thought because he smelled like alcohol earlier that he was just as drunk as I was, but he doesn't taste likeit.
His tongue slides into my mouth and I pull away quickly, surprised. He doesn't let up. He pulls my mouth back to his and slips his tongue back in. I haven't ever kissed anyone before. Is this what it's supposed to be like? To me, it feels more slimy than warm. Why do people likethis?
I thought sex was supposed to be this uncontrollable thing. It's why girls get pregnant in high school. They like it so much that they do it again and again until oops, a baby. Maybe that's lust. Whatever this is, though, I don't think it's the same thing. Because it's not uncontrollable. At least, it isn't for me. The boy seems to be pretty into it as he moans against my mouth and grinds into my pelvis. I realize something else, too. His eyes are closed and mine are wide open. At this, I close them, and suddenly, it feels a little different. I realize his lips are warm. In fact, all of him is warm and it's absolutely freezing outside. My hands come up around his shoulders and I grip him tome.
Do I say something?I think.Do I do something? Aren't I supposed to make noises so that he knows I'm turned on? Am I turned on?I don't know, but I moan and groan anyway and that ignites something inhim.
"Yeah," he mumbles pulling back. "You like it when I kiss you?" he asks. He doesn't wait for a reply, and I'm glad because I don't know what to say. But I do know that I don't wanthimto talk. I groan louder, this time in relief as he kisses me again. His fingers scale higher along my thighs and then his fingers are rubbing against my pussy again. I feel a little twitchy; I feelwet.
I don't even know this boy’s name and I find that it's probably not important. After tonight, really, after the next few minutes, he'll walk away and so will I, and then that will be it. We'll probably never see each other again and even if we do, I doubt I'll recognize the guy that took my virginity. In a way, that seems fitting for someone likeme.
I bite my lip when he pulls back again because one of his fingers has made its way over my clit and it rubs in circles over the little bundle of nerves. I feel a jolt of electricity hit me in my spine and shoot through me. I can't think. Breathing is harder than it normally is. This, I believe, is what people crave. I slump down against his chest as his finger continues playing with my clit before it travels lower and then enters my slit. I pant against his shirt as he fingers myhole.
"W-wait–" I stutter out. Something's coming, it feels like a fucking freight train and it scaresme.
Either the boy doesn't hear me, or he doesn't care because instead of stopping, he pulls his finger out and his hands are on the buckle of his belt. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I know what I’m doing.” I don’t doubt that. But I’m not so sure if we should be doing this here anymore. Plus, all of my limbs feel like electrified liquid. I’m gooey, but sparking up. I’m afraid to catch fire even as I drown under thesensations.
He jerks his pants open and then slides a hand in his pocket, retrieving a condom. I know I should be glad he thought of that. I hadn't. I'm not even on birth control. I'm not supposed to be having sex. At least he's old enough to practice safe sex. Wait, how old ishe?
I don't have long to contemplate that though, because the next thing I know he's lifting me up and slamming my back harder against the brick wall. I cry out because it hurts. God. Fuck. That reallyhurt.
His lips find my neck as he kisses it in apology. "Sorry," he whispers. I nod my head that I acknowledge him, but the bricks have jarred my bones and I can’t talk because in the next moment, his dick is in me. I flinch as it pushes in. I lift up a bit, trying to relieve thepressure.
He must not notice, because instead of shifting back and giving me some room, his arms arch over my shoulders, hands pressing down and he’s in me fully. I gasp – he must take it for pleasure, because he pulls out and pushes back in. It’s not pleasure. Ithurts. But I don’t say anything – I know I can, maybe he’ll stop. But for some reason, I don’t. I just dig my nails in his back and bite my lip and press my forehead to his shoulder as he fucksme.
I’m shaking so hard as he pounds me, I imagine that when he stops, I’ll still be shaking. The boy’s grunts get louder as he thrusts faster, and I throw my head back as he nuzzles into my neck, panting for breath. My skull connects with the brick wall and stars dance in front of my eyes – both real and not because I’m staring up at the sky. Then, as the chill of the air outside the party house crawls over my skin, the boy comes inside me. Immediately, ice forms in my veins knowing this is the end of any lingering innocence I hadleft.
* * *
Twilight morphsinto the dark of night outside my window. I tap my fingers against the window pane, feeling adrift in the sea of my own emotions. Where is my salvation? Where is my shield? I close my eyes, picturing a wall of ice slowly creeping up around me. Even when the earth falls, even when the universe shatters, I’ll still be safe inside my little cocoon. Nothing can touch me in my safeplace.
I remember Tax texting me earlier, and I figure now is as good a time as any to head over and see if he's made it back. I glance down at my clothes and sigh. Pajamas wouldn't be a problem for friends, but that's not what Tax is. I don't know what he is, but I'm not going next door in soft cotton shorts and a baggy sweatshirt. It would be like walking around without armor. I quickly change into a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top, then shove my feet intoKeds.
I pass Beverly's room, barely discerning her voice as she talks on thephone.
There are loud thumps on the other side of Tax's apartment door when I step out into the hallway. I pause for a moment in front of the door, debating on whether or not I should knock. Perhaps it's not a good time. I turn away, deciding to come back later, when the door swings open and Tax nearly plows into me. I stumble back to avoid being hit as he launches out of the apartment and into the hallway. His dark eyes glance over me. Strangely enough, he doesn't have a smirk or a sarcastic grin ready for me. Behind him, his friend – Cross – is following him out. While Tax's face is unreadable, Cross' is obviouslyupset.
"This isn't a good idea," Cross argues, ignoring my presence. A door opens somewhere in the apartment and their third friend, Blake, is in the open doorway to theapartment.
"Where's Ally?" Iask.
Tax shoots me a look. "I sent her to a friend's house," he says. "No tutoringtonight."
I frown, confused. "Why?"
"It's none of your business," he says, turningaway.
I don't know why I do it, but I follow him as he heads toward the elevator. Cross curses and Blake sighs behind us as he closes and locks their apartment door. "I agree with Cross," he says, loud enough for Tax to hearhim.
Tax doesn't respond. He gets to the elevator and punches the down button, his eyes zeroed in on the doors. "What's going on?" Iask.
Tax glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Nothing. What are you still doinghere?"
I don't know, but I don't move away from him. "Coming with you?" I'm not sure if it's a demand or a question, but the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. They're so out of character, so odd, that even I'm a little shocked I saidthem.
