Loud Silence

Chapter Nine

Snagging the front of his shirt, I coax him closer to me. His lips are moving to my throat, as I pull on his hair, and our eternal alarms are set off.

He strains his groin hard between my legs. I obey and push harder against him, settling my back into the mattress. His hands move to the top of the towel that is still wrapped around me, threatening to reveal what's under it, immediately triggering me to stop him.

"Taylor, please. I'm...scarred."

His eyes linger on mine, apologetic, but yearning for me, as he slowly proceeds on. I don't stop him this time. The towel is open, revealing my entire exposed body to him. There are scars beginning from my collarbone down to my ankle. Burn marks, slashes, puncture wounds. Different shapes and sizes, mapped throughout, never letting me forget the horrific events that had led to them.

His eyes are running through them, analyzing them. Analyzing me. I want to scream and run, to hide forever from this pain and embarrassment, but a stronger will tells me to stay, to be confident.

"You are so beautiful, Jasmine," he finally says, after what seems an eternity.

Tears run down both my eyes as I shut them. He thinks my scars are beautiful, the imperfections that have kept me feeling deformed for so long. I feel him against me once again, lips kissing my body. The pattern of his kisses are familiar. Oh! The kisses are traced on my scars. He is kissing my scars, and in that moment, the horrid memories of them are replaced by the touch of his lips. Pausing below my navel, he places the final kiss on the slit where my C-section had taken place, the only scar that had imprinted a beautiful reminder in my heart.

"Open your eyes, Jasmine." I comply to his command and our faces meet. "You never have to be ashamed. Not with me. Because every part of you is exquisite. Embrace it, because anyone who could embrace you should consider themselves lucky."

"Taylor, I'm not very good at this," my words are lost within him, as he captivates my every emotion, ignoring my admission. 

He takes another taste of my lips, and this time our kiss is charged with an urge, an uncontrollable longing, as our bodies flare up with heat. Our tongue dances playfully, wanting more of each other.

I pull his shirt over above him, slipping it off his buff arms. My fingers trace the muscles on them, moving down to his chest, down to his rock hard stomach, and stopping at his waistline. I expand the elasticity of his sweatpants and boxer, peeling them both off of him as he climbs on top of me, letting his erection free.

Our breath is heavy, in sync, as we're panting, letting the heat mingle between us.

He places one hand under my head, lips still on mine, the other hand is moving on my body, following down the trail that he had kissed. I immediately feel slickness exuding from my privates, throbbing and pounding as it awaits the touch of his fingers.

Once he reaches between my legs, he parts my folds, rubbing the tip of his finger on that spot. Over and over. I let out a moan, surrendering to the pleasure.

"Only if you want it, Jasmine," he whispers in my ear.

"I want you, Taylor," I say breathlessly. The magic words stop his teasing, sending him inside me, deep, slow, euphoric. His thickness slides against my internal walls, each movement sending me into a new range of pleasure.

My hands are gripped on his back, legs wrapped around him, as he takes me completely. His mouth descends to my breast, drawing his tongue over it, prolonging at the tip. He moves to my other breast, repeating, the sensation causing me to become even wetter.

He thrusts against me. Harder. Faster. I offer him as much access as I can give, raising my pelvis to his. We continue the movement, not being able to get enough, until my legs have grown sore, but still wanting more. His finger once again finds its place between my legs,  rubbing my pleasure spot in a circulation motion, simultaneously biting down on my nipple.

"Ah! Taylor!" I scream for him. My orgasm surrenders under his touch, and I let the symphony of bliss radiate through my body, finally reaching my satisfaction.

"Jasmine!" he groans. Not knowing how it is possible, but he grows larger inside me, as I clench myself around him. He pulls out, releasing himself on top of me.

Our sweaty bodies are frozen, the only movement is our chest, as we regain control of our breathing. Taylor kisses my forehead, then rests his head on my chest, a switching of roles. I didn't want to disturb this moment, but I had to clean, so I quietly remove myself from under him, heading to the bathroom.

Stepping back out, I suddenly felt the shyness return, as I try to cover parts of myself and run to the empty bed, slipping myself under the comforter and covering from head to toe.

I'm no virgin and neither is he, that much was obvious, but I have never had another man touch me in so many ways, nor I have ever had an orgasm before. It was as though in that moment, I let everything around us disappear, and I unmasked every part of me to him. I felt—naked. 

There's a tugging of the comforter, as I pull it closer to me, shielding myself from the awkwardness.

"Hey, Jasmine." His voice is making my insides flip. "I feel kind of neglected. Can you please let me in?"

After a moment of consideration, I finally unveil my head from the covers, as he slips under it to join me.
Taylor enfolds me in his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head, as I lean against him, against the chest that I've grown quite fond of, except now, it was bare, our skin making immediate contact.

"Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, a hint of sadness behind it.

What am I going to tell him? That no one has ever satisfied me like that before, as if my inexperience wasn't enough to embarrass myself? Or that I feel like a horrible mother, allowing myself to be caught up in such provocative moment?

"I—I've never done that before," I admit before I could stop myself. "I mean, I've had sex before, obviously, but not like that." Really? How did that make it any better? I wish I would have just stayed under the covers, because I know he can feel how hot my cheeks are getting.

"Neither have I. That was...so much more than I've ever felt," he tells me.

I find it hard to believe that I have done anything to enhance the experience for him, especially not more than any other girl he has been with, I'm sure. But why did the thought of him ever being with someone else make my heart jolt in such an uncomfortable way?

"What are you doing to me, Jasmine? My judgements are smeared when I'm with you. I just can't stay away." His arms grow taut around me.    

"Well, you don't have to. Not tonight, anyways," I respond timidly. There is no explanation for it, but he provides me with this feeling of solace and confidence, and I couldn't fathom him letting go of me. 

"Not ever," he responds surely.

He might not see it, but I'm smiling into his chest, and for one night, this night, we don't have to think about anything beyond. Only now. Only what is in our arms. Only who is in our arms. Because at least for tonight, we belong to each other.