Page 92 of Love and Lies

42 Helena

It was still dark when I woke up. I wasn’t sure what exactly had woken me—perhaps the patter of rain on the windows. I hadn’t been sleeping for long; the bedside alarm clock showed shortly after three. It took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t my alarm, and the soft, unfamiliar bedsheets under my fingertips weren’t mine either. Then I remembered everything—running away from the ball, my walk through the city, finding myself in front of this building, Jess finally letting me in. Our conversation on the terrace, feeling safe, like I’d finally arrived, on a day when I’d least expected it. And finally, asking Jess not to sleep on the couch but to stay here with me. At that point the flood of memories stopped abruptly.

I was in Jess’s bed. With him.

I turned quietly onto my side and saw him next to me, his blond hair illuminated by a beam of light from outside, his face half in shadow. Looking at him gave me a warm, cozy feeling. But soon something else more urgent took over—hunger. And longing. Both had taken a back seat while our grief for our siblings was more important. But now, under cover of darkness, it was almost overpowering.

Jess seemed to feel it too; it was less than a minute before he stirred and opened his eyes. He was looking at me, and he was smiling.

“What’s up?” he asked, sounding remarkably awake. “Can’t sleep?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean, I could, but… I don’t want to.”

He registered the shift between us just like I did. I could tell by the look in his eyes—the quizzical expression was gone, and when I saw the way he looked at me now, the yearning inside me turned to a burning heat.

“What do you want, then?” he asked softly, the edge in his voice banishing all doubt from my mind.

I want you.

I didn’t say it out loud, though. Instead, I showed him, reaching for him as I moved closer. I put a hand to his cheek, running my fingers gently down his neck, over his chest, farther down. I reached the hem of his shirt, pausing for a moment. But then I let my hand drift underneath, rippling over his stomach, the muscles there so taut I knew he was waiting for my touch. He inhaled sharply as I brought my hand back up, taking his shirt with me, and every inch of skin I uncovered made me want him more. The tremble that shivered through his body at my hands was delicious. Then, at last, I leaned in and kissed him.

It was as if he’d needed very ounce of self-control he possessed to let me get there—but the moment our lips touched, he stopped holding back. He pulled me into his arms, and our lips parted at the same time. My knees went weak as his tongue found mine, and I met it with a soft moan. God, I’d missed this. I’d missed Jess so much. How many times had I thought about doing exactly this in the last few weeks? I didn’t even know.

We both seemed to remember where we’d left off, and there was no hesitation; I had no doubt about what to do, or whether he would like it. I knew I could just let myself go, right from the very first moment. And right to the very last.

Jess flipped us together so that I was on top. I straddled him, my arms braced either side, and he pulled me close, brushing my hair back to kiss me again with wild abandon, chasing every sensible thought out of my head and leaving only pure, unmitigated need.

But then he pulled away.

“Wait,” he gasped, holding my face in his hands. “I want to see you.”

He reached to one side and pressed a switch, and soft lighting came on around the edge of the mezzanine. He straightened up with me still on his lap; I pulled his shirt off, and, just like last time, the sight of him took my breath away. The subtle glow cast a gentle play of light and shadow on the contours of his face, the definition of his torso, the tattoo down his side. He’d always been incredibly sexy, but in that moment I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted him, and I knew I never would.

Then I saw the way he was looking at me.

I wanted to bottle that look so I could come back to it whenever I wasn’t feeling my best. Jess was gazing at me with such burning devotion that I almost combusted, and he hadn’t even touched me yet. I wanted more. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it up, breaking eye contact only for the second it took to yank it over my head and let it drop to the floor. I’d taken off my bra to sleep, so I had nothing on underneath, my loose hair falling in a curtain across my back. Jess’s gaze wandered down my body, then he reached for me and brushed his lips to mine, before bringing them to my ear.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured softly.

In response I kissed him, moving my hips, feeling the length of him hard against me. I felt the tremble that shuddered through his body and into mine. The tension between us was so intense I couldn’t stand it. I’d never felt anything like this—desire, yes, but not this desperate craving, like I was going to burst into flames if it wasn’t satisfied right now.

Jess seemed to know exactly how I felt. He kissed me again, lacing his tongue with mine, then pulled away, brushing his lips down my neck, his fingers tracing my skin before he put his hands softly to my breasts. I gasped, my eyes closing. If it was this fucking good now, I couldn’t wait for what was coming next.

He held me close, tipped my body back a little, and then his mouth was where his hands had been, and his tongue was on me too. Leaning back, I gave myself over to him, enjoying every second of this prelude, even as I was dying of anticipation. His fingers traced a line over my stomach and down to my hips, and when they slipped beneath the fabric of my underwear, for a moment my arms gave out beneath me. I put them around his neck, clinging to him for support as he found my center—but not for long. I couldn’t wait anymore. It was my turn.

I felt my way down his body, reaching into the waistband of his boxers, and took him in my hand. His head tipped back, and he let out a guttural sound, for a moment incapable of doing anything but relishing what I was doing to him. I picked up the pace, a smile stealing onto my lips, until finally he stopped me.

“Don’t finish me off,” he muttered in a raw voice. “Not yet.” He rubbed my bottom lip with his thumb, parting my mouth and kissing me so deeply and searchingly it took my breath away. My breasts flush against his chest, I ran my fingers over his back, discovering one or two scars—the only thing about him that wasn’t perfect. Jess pulled me closer again, and I rocked against him as he moaned darkly into my mouth. Then he grabbed hold of me and flipped us over together again so I was beneath him.

He kept watching me, as if he didn’t want to miss a single reaction as he made his way down my body—caressing my breasts, kissing my stomach, farther and farther down, until I was practically shaking with need as I felt his hands on the inside of my thighs.

Oh, God, was he going to…? I tensed for a fraction of a second, and Jess sensed it.

“One word from you, and I’ll stop,” he said, as though he understood this was uncharted territory for me. Not that I hadn’t had the opportunity—it wasn’t a one-way street after all—I’d just never trusted anyone enough to be able to let go. But I felt no doubt whatsoever about giving myself to Jess like this. Only a desperate need for him not to stop.

“Don’t you dare,” I managed, waiting impatiently as he took off the last of my clothes, and my legs finally parted around him.

Jess went slowly, carefully, kissing the soft skin at the top of my thighs, feeling his way forward, until I was practically begging him to stop the torture—and finally, he relented. It was incredible. Totally different than I’d expected, and unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Jess knew exactly what he was doing, driving me insane with his mouth, his tongue, his hands. He brought me to the brink again and again, yet never over the edge. But when I realized I was close, I stopped him.