The First Touch (Part II)
Must Read: The First Touch (Part I)
She had to admit, he made sense. She could pursue whatever this was, or leave it as it was, despite the consequences, and here he was, offering something without consequence. It felt foolish to miss an opportunity, especially one that was offered so freely and more than that…it felt right to accept.
She looked into those endless black eyes, and made a split second decision.
“Okay,” she said, quietly but audibly, “I want to try.”
She closed her eyes and tilted her heap upwards in invitation.
A snicker escaped him, jolting her eyes open. She colored with embarrassment at the rejection and fiddled with her hair.
“I know it’s stupid, I shouldn’t have tried to…” she trailed off the teasing look on his face.
“It’s not stupid, I just want to take things slow,” he spoke reassuringly, “I promised to make you feel, so let me come through on that, yeah?”
At her nod, he reached for her hand but didn’t break eye contact.
He softly began to caress every crevice, every crease on those callused palms.
“They’re not very soft,” she admitted.
“Yet, I still want to feel them against my skin,” he finished, holding up their hands to intertwine them, “like this.” Pausing to place her hand near the slope of his shoulder, fingers splayed across the collarbone. She kept her touch light, not wanting him to feel weird.
Knowing exactly what she was thinking he placed her hand more firmly on himself.
“I’m not going to break. Go on, have your way with me.”
She traced the line of his collarbone, peeking up at him to look for signs of rejection, only to be met with approval. She continued her ministrations, and was met with his wandering hands.
He replicated her movements, and then ran a finger up the column of her throat. He was sitting closer now, their knees touching, his hand now cupping her jaw. His thumb ran soft circles on her face. She couldn’t bear to look at those onyx eyes, so she closed her own. She could smell the subtle scent of soap on him, could feel him moving even closer. He would probably go right for her lips, but he didn’t.
He pressed his lips to her forehead and inhaled deeply, before surprising her with an Eskimo kiss, and drawing out a giggle.
“There’s that smile,” he said in delight, “don’t be nervous, I’m not going to bite you.”
The glimmer of mischief had come alive in her eyes, “What if I want you to?”
“I don’t know,” he pretended to think, “Not sure I could deny you that, could I?”
She grinned at him, and he couldn’t wait anymore. He curled his other hand into her hair and drew her forward.
It was a brief brush of their lips, a soft experimental touch. He pulled away slightly, allowing her to make the next move. This time, she leaned in, and put more pressure, testing the limits. He angled her head for better access, and pulled her closer. She let out a soft sigh.
This time, they both pulled away.
“How was that, for a first kiss?” He raised an eyebrow in question, daring her to say something contrary to what he knew she felt.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, “Maybe you should give me another trial, just to help me make up my mind.”
“Just to help make up your mind,” he repeated innocently.
This time, they both went in smiling.
