Page 67 of Our Little Cliche
“Fuck-ing hell.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
HOLLY
HadI knownthisis what foreplay feels like, I would have gone hunting for it a long time ago. My skin feels like it’s engulfed in flames, even though I’m merely doing what I’ve been doing every night since I met Cyrus.But this time I’m doing it in front of him.
He’s watching my every swirl with heavy, hungry eyes while I read for him. This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know how, or why, but I don’t feel the need to hide from him like I thought I would. Like I was moments ago.Scratch that.Idoknow why—Cyrus has the ability to control my mind, body and soul. Yet I’m the one in charge.
Even with himtellingme what to do with my body, it’s not for him, for his needs. It’s for me. I feel so incredibly free. I’ve been in control of writing my own story this whole time, he’s just been guiding me there—like the good author he is.
This is my new beginning.
This isourbeginning.
Cyrus ismyauthor now, and I’d gladly let him write our story on my skin with his white web of love.
Through my heavy breaths I read aloud to my best potential. I want him to pay very close attention to what I’m about to say. “He slowly pushes up the covers to reveal her glistening wetness. She sleeps solidly as he lifts his balaclava, then traces the edges of her soft skin with his tongue, right from her ankles, along her thigh?—”
“Holly…” Cyrus’s pining low tone interrupts me.
I look away from the page to him while swiping the tip of my finger along the wet entrance and back to the bud. His hand runs behind his neck and tilts it to release the tension. I answer him, knowing that me going off script has caught his attention. “Yes?”
Sexual frustration radiates from his body, and it makes the grin that has been threatening to crease my lips for too long finally show. I have to take my hat off to him for being as resilient as he is. Seeing me so exposed and ready for him must be excruciating, but I get the feeling he’s saving himself for something special.
While I’m unconscious.
“What are you reading?”
“Oh, you know, seeing as you’re writing a book about you and me, I thought I could try being an author too. But mine’s more of ascreenplaythan a novel,” I smile, slowing my movements to catch my breath.
“I see. So in your…act, you will stay unclothed for me?”
“Yes.”
“And in my scene, I’m in the balaclava?”
“Definitely.” I nod.
“Hmm. You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“I’ve only been playing this scene in my head every night since I read your book. It’s your fault that I want you to touch me in ways I’ve never been touched before. And your fault that I want you to do your best at doing your worst,” I confess, no blushing, no shame, and no holding back. I have never flirted aday in my life, and it’s coming out of my mouth like hot lava. I can confidently say it’snotthe wine—it’s him.
“I can do that.” He cocks his brow.
“Do you have condoms?”
“Yes. I’ve also had a vasectomy.”
Hallelujah!I’ll praise whatever doctor I need to for this miracle, another layer of protection. I mean, I’d love to be a mother, more than anything in the world. But not today. Although…
Curiosity spikes me, and I almost choke on my words, nearly losing the confidence to say them but manage to spit it out under one breath. “Do you mind if I ask you not to wear one when we fuck?”
“If that’s what you want, then yes. May I ask why?”
“I want to know what it feels like.”
“You want to know how I feel when I cum inside you?”
