after this night (camren)

22. Camila

One of her shirts. I slipped one on, buttoned it to my breasts, and considered myself fully dressed.

I heard the door open, and my heart tripped over itself. Excitement tore through my body because she was there, and I damn near wanted to race down the two flights of stairs. But I knew this woman, and knew what she wanted. She didn't need me running into her arms. She'd want to discover me. I padded down the steps quietly, turning the corner at the second floor just as she was leaving her phone and keys on the kitchen table.

I leaned against the top of the railing, my hip resting against the iron, mu fingers toying with the top button. Waiting. Waiting for her.

When she looked up, her eyes locked on my face. She stroked her jaw and shook her head in appreciation.

"I could get used to this" she said, her deep, gravelly voice turning me to liquid as she stalked over, up the steps, then cupped my cheeks in her big strong hands, "You. In my house. In my clothes. Here for me"

I melted as sparks raced over my skin, "All for you"

Neither one of us said another word as she looked at me as if she were inhaling me, as if the every sight of me was oxygen in her lungs. Electricity charged through me under her gaze. I wanted her to eat me up, to taste me, to touch me all over. Everywhere - this woman needed to be everywhere on my body, in my body, in my heart, in my mind.

I reached for the collar on her shirt, gripping it hard. At some point we were going to kiss, we were going to crash into each other, but now the moment was heady with silence, drenched in anticipation of coming together.

I stepped backward, clutching her shirt. She followed, matching me until the back of my knees hit her couch.

Then it happened. Like fireworks, an explosion at the end of Fourth of July, loud and powerful, that rang in your ears and lit up the sky. Everything became a frenzy of heat and vibrant colour as she touched me. Before I knew it, the buttons on my shirt - her shirt - had scattered to the hard-wood flor as she tore it off. Her shirt was gone next, pants unbuttoned, yanked down to her knees, then off. Like a leopard, she sprang fast, heated and fevered too, and before I knew it, I was naked on my back on her couch, my legs up on her shoulders as she held me down hard with her big body. Her arms, like steel, held my thighs in place as she entered me in one mind-blowing thrust. I was pinned, deliciously pinned, by this position. I couldn't move my legs, but my hands were free to touch her beautiful face, and I revelled in the chance to map her features with my fingers, to draw my thumbprint over her jaw that I loved.

Loved.

She moved in me, fucking me the way she kissed me, deep and consuming, in a claiming of my body. She was owning me, marking me, her fingers digging hard into my shoulders, clutching me tightly, as if she couldn't bear to let go. She took me hard and slow at the same time. I felt her in my bones, on my skin, down to my very cells. She was inside me, she was outside me, she surrounded me. A symphony of sensations flooded every vein, and soon it became impossible to tell where one note ended and the next began. I could no longer distinguish between my body and my heart; they were one and the same, swallowed whole with longing for her. Lauren and I had smashed into each other, atoms and particles colliding, combusting into this never0ending bliss.

"Do you think this will ever stop?" I whispered in between breaths.

"Wanting you like this?"

"Yes" I said, inhaling sharply as I held her face, never taking my eyes off hers.

"No" she said, her voice ragged, "because of how I feel"

"How do you feel?"

"I am obsessed" she said, raw and heated, her words touching down in my soul, "Utterly obsessed"