Telepatía

16 | frore

My nipples are hard against pure lace and I'm afraid they'll pop out any second from their tight confines. Behave yourself, Ola.

"Why me?" Theo asks after a moment of deliberation.

I'm tempted to just sink my lips into his inviting ones, but I stop myself, hovering over his face to where I can see him nervously looking into my eyes.

"Why not you?" I asked, voice gentle.

His head lowers as if he couldn't — won't believe my words.

"Look at me," I demand, reaching for his jaw. Deliberately, Theo does as told. "If I wanted to ask anyone, I would have," I start, tucking loose curls behind my ears. "But I don't want to do this . . . thing with just anyone."

"I still don't understand how this will help both of us," Theo murmurs.

My mouth presses into a tight line. "Fine," I drawl. I'm just horny, I want to admit. But instead, I say, "I'm dealing with . . . something," God. Even I don't sound convincing, "and so far, you're the only guy I trust enough to want to do it with."

Theo's cheeks flame with my confession.

"Do w-what, exactly?" He queries.

God, how oblivious is this boy?

"Do you really not know?" My voice comes to a whisper. There's just no way he doesn't have an idea of what I'm trying to imply. Has he never done the dirty? Never had the urge to watch indecent films?

No way. I don't believe it, but . . . Would Theo really lie about something so trivial?

In response, the boy stares blankly at me. His lashes are lengthy in comparison to mine, and it dulls the round pearls in his eyes.

My head lowers, the corner of my mouth tipping as I come to the realization. "You're a virgin," I mumble, keeping my voice to a minimum.

And when I look up, Theo is a blushing mess. "How is this relevant?" He croaks out, timid.

The smirk on my face never leaves me. There's just something about Theo's whole being that pulls me in, deeper than I imagined.

"You've never . . ." I try to find the right words, "done anything with your past girlfriends?" I find myself asking, somewhat amused by the whole interaction.

"N-no," he replies, finally. "I've never . . . thought about it."

No way . . .

I swear, I think something is happening inside of me that needs to be checked out by a fucking professional.

"You've never . . ." I lick my lips, unconsciously. My voice tranquil, gingerly, "touched yourself?"

Theo's hands gradually skim where my knees rest around his waist. I ignore the shiver down my spine and the agonizing surge of moisture between my legs. When I heave up and accidentally press down on his crotch, the sensation is even worse. The brass material of his pants makes me feel as if I've just run a mile. It takes all of my energy to keep myself from moving up and down to satisfy my desires.

Theo groans, his veiny hands latching around my ankles to keep me steady. I almost choke on my saliva, realizing he isn't pushing me away this time.

"You want me too, don't you?" I mutter, determined.

It's uncontrollable. The spark surged through my veins and my lower abdomen. It pools between my thighs. Vivid and warm. I could swear that if I got up and looked to where I sat, a patch from my wetness would be seen on his brown trousers.