a work of art

chapter 6: the birth of venus

I didn't hesitate, not for a moment.

I moved closer, brushed her bangs back from her face, where pieces of them lay close to her perfect mouth. I ran my thumb across her bottom lip, like I'd done before, and she sighed in exactly the same way. This time I heard it – longing. I gripped her face gently with both hands.

And then I kissed her.

Her mouth was sweet, her lips soft. I held myself back, moving slowly, despite the deepest desire in my chest to completely devour her. It took everything in me to hold back. Her hands moved into my hair, found the back of my head, and pulled me closer.

I kissed her mouth deeply, slowly sliding open her lips with my tongue. Her mouth opened easily, and her tongue glided out to meet mine.

It was sweet, but I was aching. My body shook, but I stayed in control. I kissed her slow and she held me tighter and kissed me back. I kissed her like I loved her. Not like we'd only known each other for 24 hours, like we'd known each other forever.

I pushed her hair off her neck, ran my hands over her shoulders and around her back. I hugged her closer to me. Her leg hooked over my hip, and my hands found their way down and under her shirt. Gently, gently, I ran my nails down her back.

And then, she moaned. She arched her back, thrusted her hips into mine, and I lost the control.

Next second, I was on top of her. My resolve to move slowly was out the window. I ran my hands down her throat, over her collarbones, to her chest. My body burned. My bones ached. I'd never wanted anything or anyone so intensely in all my life, and here she was, hot and breathing hard beneath me.

I had to touch her, everywhere.

My hands ran over her breasts, and through her baggy tee, I felt lace. I cupped the outside of them, trailed my thumbs down the middle, found two hard peaks in the center, and felt her back arch. I smiled into her mouth and ran my teeth over her bottom lip. Another moan, and I scraped my nails gently over her nipples as she writhed.

I was delirious now, my hands sliding down her waist and finding the hem of her shirt. I touched her bare stomach, found it working hard sucking in deep breaths as we kissed intensely. My hands shook as they slid across her warm skin. I made circles across her belly with my thumbs, my hands gripping her sides. She was squirming, panting beneath me.

And suddenly, I knew. She had wanted this as badly as I did, after all.

I stared down at her as she breathed hard, gazing up at me with heavy eyes. One corner of her mouth turned up as we gazed at one another. My hands slid farther up her shirt, and I found the lace. I found her breasts again, too, and rubbed them gently. She sighed, arching into the pressure.

I straddled her hips, and she placed her hands on my waist. She started slowly, slowly inching the hem of my dress up, over my thighs, my hips. The dress with her cartoon face on it.

We never lost eye contact.

"Is this what you want?" I asked, begging for it to be true.

Her gaze was so intense, her ice blue eyes much darker in the dim light. She bit her lip and nodded, slowly, deliberately.

"You're sure?" I was in denial.

Slowly, she raised herself up from the pile of clothes, and as she did, she ran her hands along the tops of my thighs, which were pressed tightly to either side of her body. Her fingertips moved painfully slowly, up, up my legs, til they found the bunched hem of my dress. She raised it up and over my head. She ran her hands over my black lace bralette. Down my stomach. Over my thighs.