Lost Girl

Chapter 17

DIANA

My heart was in my throat, strangling me even as I tried to project a confident persona. I could do this, I could be spontaneous and sexy, seduce him the way I've been thinking about since I understood what these feelings meant. Even if it killed me, I would kiss him. I would know what it was like. Fortunately he was a little more than tipsy so he didn't seem to notice my sweaty palms or quivering lips.

He waited, leaning back against the couch, as I crept closer and placed my hands on his shoulders. The slow grin on his face, lopsided though it was, eased some of the tension in my stomach. He was letting me know that it was ok, that I could back away if I needed to.

"You're so pretty." He whispered, and his hands came up to touch my hair. The gentle stroke loosened the knot even further, and I realized that he knew. He knew how scared I was, how awfully sure I would mess this up and he'd never see me as anything more than a friend. It amazed me, really, that even slightly inebriated he was looking out for me.

With only an inch between us, I paused, unsure where to go from here. I knew that technically, I was supposed to press my lips to his, but last time had happened so fast I hadn't really had a chance to analyse it. He didn't rush me, but his eyes told me if I needed help he'd have no problem helping.

"I'm not sure what to do." I murmured, blushing in embarrassment.

"Ok." He said, and then he leaned up that last inch to take my lips with his.

The first one was sloppy, born out of my awkwardness and his tipsiness and the weird position, but that didn't seem to bother either of us.

It seemed so natural for me to sit down, and of course the only spot was right on his leg. His hands helped me, settling me in while our mouths became more familiar. My arms slid around his neck and held on, fingers teasing the short hair. I kept my eyes open, even though I couldn't see much more than his eyelashes and a few strokes of skin. I just didn't want to miss a moment of it, and I felt like all of my senses had to be engaged, just to make sure that nothing felt deprived and went nuts.

In my head I waited for it, waited for the panic to arise and the sense of he's going to take over and it's going to hurt to sneak up and ruin the moment, but it never happened.

There was the anxiety that it would, but nothing more, and I was so amazed that I felt myself smile into it. As I grew more accustomed to the feeling of lips on mine, I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I let them close, and it seemed like that was the cue my body needed; I relaxed in his arms that last increment, letting myself really enjoy it. I felt so happy, so normal, and it was amazing, this feeling. I pulled back a second, and my teeth grabbed--on their own, I swear--his bottom lip to tug on it. He groaned, one of his arms tensing around my waist, the the thumb of the other stroking my cheek.

He pulled my face back down, tip of his tongue stroking the seam of my lips. I parted them, but he only nipped at the top one.
"I really don't want to be only friends." He sighed, before he pulled away and leaned his head back on the couch.

"What's wrong?" I asked, slightly breathless. I don't want to stop, what's he doing?
"This is enough for right now." His voice was husky, and the hand that had been holding my face was now palm up across his eyes.

"Why?" I asked, moving my head to the side. My loose hair fell around me, some of it touching his leg. One of his brown eyes looked at me from under his arm and then closed again.

"Don't do that." He hissed.
"Do what?" I let my fingers play in his hair, stroking what I could reach. It really is soft. Nearly annoying, honestly.

"You're being too cute, I can't handle it."
"Why did we have to stop?" I asked, as I let the warmth from his words seep into my bones.
"Because I'm a teenage boy with awful hormones. I didn't want to push you too far."