Page 92 of The Other Side of Green

I wanted so desperately to believe him. And I did, apart from that tiny section of my heart which held the questions… how?… why?... and what if?

“So anyway, about this frustration?”

I squealed as he pressed a button and the back of my seat slid right back. “I thought you were being virtuous?” I said against his mouth as it clapped against mine.

“Oh, believe me, I am.”

The kiss grew, faster and hotter until all thoughts of conversation and questions no longer had a place. I linked my arms around his neck, anchoring him close to me. He was here. Mine.

Only mine.

I arched myself against his firm chest, dragging him down until we wedged together tight in the small space. His hands slid along my sides, across the curve of my tits, thumb rubbing against my nipple. I gasped into his mouth, a hot ache in between my legs. I wanted him so bad, I didn’t think he actually understood it.

“I am so glad fate didn’t screw us up.” I sighed, dropping my head back and giving him room to kiss along my neck.

With deft fingers, he undid the buttons on my denim shorts. I squeezed my knees together as the burn between my thighs became painful. He slipped his fingers under the denim, beneath the cotton of my panties and into the deepest, darkest place I wanted them.

His eyes met mine, a smile teasing the corners of his lips. His hair flopped in his eyes, and for one long moment he looked just like the boy called Blue I used to know. “God, Lyra.” He slipped a finger further, teasing over my clit and I circled my hips against the electric current that pulsed from the delicate touch. Slipping further, he teased his finger inside me, dipping into the tight space, making room for his touch to own me. I pulled his face down to mine, smashing our lips together. Dragging his finger back out he went back to circling my clit, slowly rolling around the hardened hotspot, making my toes point as waves of deliciousness tingled from the tip of my toes along my legs and up my body. Watching me carefully, he dipped back inside, pushing further, deeper, while I spread my legs, silently begging for more. As I screwed my eyes shut, waves beginning to build, he pulled back out again, this time actually making me cry out with frustration as he went back to slowly circling, applying light pressure and then hard, light then hard, light then hard, until I thrashed my head to the side ready to grind on anything he was willing to give me.

Our eyes met, his lips curving as he thrust back inside me again, two fingers this time, spreading me wider, making me whimper and push down until his fingers filled me. Turning his hand a fraction, he pressed in a different direction, rubbing up and down deep inside me, his palm cupping my clit and pushing in time with his fingers.

I splintered in two, rushing out of nowhere and blasting me into the sky.

“Oh. My. God.” I panted, grabbing his T-shirt and pulling him down so I could invade his mouth with my tongue the same way his fingers had just done to my body. He went to move his hand, but I held it in place, unwilling to let go of the sensation of him being inside me. I pushed his hand deeper, enjoying the slightly sharp sensation as his fingers scratched deep inside me like he was carving his initials in a place no one else would go.

He broke the kiss, pecking his lips on my cheeks, my nose, my eyelids, and I sighed deeply. “I should get you back,” he murmured.

I blinked up at him, focusing on reality and not the sensations inside me. “I want to spend the night with you.”

His grin blinded me. “And I you, but we don’t need to rush this anymore. We’ve got forever.”

“I know. But for once I’m stating what I want.” I held his gaze. “I want to be with you. Want to wake up with you. I’m scared this is all a dream.”

His smile fell. “Lyra, I promise you that’s not the case.”

An unexpected tear slipped down my cheek. “I know. But it doesn’t stop me fearing it.”

Gently removing his fingers from inside me, he buttoned up my shorts and then pulled me up to sitting. “We’d better see if the guest room is still ours at Evan’s.”

Jack gave a small shake of his head, but all I could do was cling onto the word ‘ours’ and hope that it was something we could make last.

Evan’s flat was in darkness, but Jack still had the spare key on his set. I flicked some lights on while Jack shot off a text to Evan saying where we were. His answer pinged right back—he was staying out. Make the place ours, put dirty bedding in the washing.

“I just don’t know what he means.” I laughed, wiggling my eyebrows.

Jack stalked for me, catching me up in his arms. I slotted my legs around his waist, squeezing tight. “I can show you.”

I smiled against his lips. “I think you should.”

He pulled back slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Stop asking me that, it’s becoming boring already.”

He backed us into the spare bedroom. It seemed a lifetime ago we were last in here, snuggled up in the bed thinking of ways we could escape the mess we were in. Now we were back, but had nothing left to run from.

“Make love to me, Jack,” I whispered.

“I feel like I should sing.”