Page 49 of Time After Time
My right hand rebelled against the sheet’s hold and took a detour northward. Convincing my fingers to let go was likenegotiating with a stubborn toddler, but eventually, they found their way behind his neck. The touch of my slightly sweaty palms against the back of his neck made him open his eyes, and the sudden eye contact made me do this awkward, unexpected swallow that I hoped wasn’t as audible as it seemed to me.
As I stared at him, I let my nails playfully scratch his skin. Another shaky sigh escaped him, and his eyelids fluttered before falling shut once more. My fingers glided through his blonde hair. “Sebastian,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper, unsure if he could even hear me. Yet somehow, he always seemed attuned to every little thing I said or did. “Kiss me again.”
He shook his head and drew even closer, his left arm now bearing his entire weight above me. At the same time, his right hand traced the contours of my face. “I won’t kiss you again,” he whispered, his voice low, almost secretive, as if we were in a crowded room, protecting our conversation from prying ears.
As he denied my plea for another kiss, a mellow, almost desperate whine escaped my lips. “Please.”
His pupils widened as he took a moment to reiterate his decision. “Gen, it’s your turn to kiss me. I need to know this isn’t just me.” Did my grip on his hands, the soft moans, the gasps, and the way my lips moved against his leave any room for doubt about my feelings in that moment? “At least, I need to know you want this as much as I do.” His gaze shifted from my eyes to my lips, his expression heavy with an ache that stirred something deep within my heart. “Please,” he implored, the words falling from his lips like a prayer, but his plea carried a different tone than mine. I could feel it.
“What if...” In moments like these, with his full attention on me, I wished he wouldn’t notice every little detail, feeling strangely anxious and shaky beneath his unwavering gaze. “What if I don’t want to stop after just one kiss?” I couldn’tbelieve those words had slipped out, but what surprised me even more was the sorrow that shadowed his face.
His forehead nestled in the crook of my neck, and instead of his familiar gaze, I found myself staring up at the blank expanse of the white ceiling. “I would take whatever you’re willing to give me, Gen,” he murmured. It was a response that felt perfect, yet… not. Why did those words sound so heartbreaking? “As long as it’s what you want.”
“What about what you want?” I countered, wanting him to leave the spot on my neck so I could search for reassurance in his gaze.
He let out a self-deprecating chuckle against me, his breath tickling my skin. A few stray droplets from his wet hair landed on my left cheek and eyelid as he shook his head slightly. “That’s... okay,” he replied after a brief pause. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”
His response sent a pang through my chest, and as I struggled to find the right words to express my thoughts. He silenced my mind with a kiss.
He had seemed to forget that it was my turn to kiss him.
The world around us disappeared—the past and future fading away, leaving only the intensity of his body pressed against mine. Our lips came together in a rush of electricity, his tongue exploring my mouth with a boldness that sent waves of desire coursing through me.
Sebastian’s right hand, initially tender against my face, traced a path down my jaw and neck. With a squeeze, my lips parted wider, inviting a more intense and rapid exchange of kisses. As his hand continued its journey, it settled on my chest, just above the fabric of my tank top. His palm rested there, fingers teasing the edge, caressing my now-burning skin.
His fingers playfully danced along, and I couldn’t suppress a sigh as Sebastian’s touch ventured beneath my tank top.My back arched in response, but he retreated to his previous position, a chuckle escaping him at my reaction and the groan that followed.
My hands transitioned from tangling in his hair to exploring the expanse of his chest. Even with my eyes closed, I was fully captivated by his physique, having committed every detail to memory—the subtle shadows the sun always cast on him. Nervously, my hands came to rest against his chest as I continued to revel in his heat and the intoxicating sensation of his kisses.
I opened my eyes to find Sebastian watching me, his cheeks flushed and his hair in disarray. As his lips drew away from mine, a thin string of saliva connected us for a heartbeat longer, and I sighed in satisfaction.
Even after seeking my consent before, his gaze still looked for reassurance, asking if I was truly prepared to take this step with him. Doubts about how this could change our friendship flitted through my mind, but all I could focus on was the burning desire I felt. It was an ache so intense that it bordered on madness, and nothing else in the world mattered at that moment.
“I’ve never done this before.” The words rushed out before I could stop them. They were honest, but saying them out loud sent a flush of embarrassment through me. Taking a deep breath, I looked away, unable to summon the courage to meet his gaze.
A pinch on my chin turned my face back toward him, allowing our eyes to lock once more. His gaze radiated sincerity, eyes shining, and a subtle smile curled at the corners of his lips. “Neither have I.”
His revelation brought an unexpected wave of relief, tightening my chest in a surprisingly comforting way.
Our tongues tangled together again, and Sebastian’s hands, no longer hesitant, gripped the hem of my tank top. As I archedmy back, I surrendered to the pressure of his grasp on the fabric. His lips parted from mine, but I kept my gaze locked on him, determined not to miss a single moment of what he was doing.
My pyjama top lay forgotten somewhere in the room, its location unimportant as my attention stayed locked on him. His eyes moved from my face to my chest.
“Fuck.” His breath hitched, and the sound sent a shiver through me. In that instant, I silently thanked Sylvie for convincing me to choose this lingerie piece. Sebastian’s eyes gleamed, absorbing every detail of my bra. “Fuck, this looks great on you,” his right hand hovered just above my covered breast, trembling slightly. “Fuck.” Sebastian’s moan escaped louder this time, a deep, guttural sound that drew a chuckle from me. But my amusement turned into a startled gasp when he leaned his forehead against my neck, his breath against my skin.
My hands found their way behind his head, fingertips gliding over the nape of his neck. I held on firmly, grounding myself as the sensations built. His lips began their exploration, starting with soft grazes against the bare skin where the bra ended. I gasped, each sound escaping louder than the last, as he moved on to press open, wet kisses.
Each one sent a ripple through me, his lips leaving a cool trace against my heated skin. The soft pressure deepened with every touch, alternating between gentle pulls and bites that blurred the line between pleasure and pain.
“Sebastian, please.”
He mumbled against my skin, as if existing in his own universe, lost in a lucid dream. His mouth quickened, growing more frantic, descending to the valley between my breasts.
“Sebastian, please, touch me.” The words slipped out, laced with a hint of shyness, as if such desires were meant to remain unsaid. Yet the craving persisted—to feel him in every inch of my body, just as I ached to explore every inch of his.
After a final wet kiss and a gentle nibble on the flesh of my right breast, he mumbled, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” His hands migrated to my back, and despite my attempts to arch, they met resistance against the sheet, no longer feeling fresh and cold. “Fuck this thing,” he groaned, frustration evident as his fingers slid over the bra clasp in a futile attempt to open it. His urgency led him to lightly manoeuvre me to the side to better access the bra. A short, loud laugh escaped me, which only deepened his groans of frustration. “Gosh, Gen, I’m begging you to pull me out of my misery.” He gazed at me with those pleading puppy eyes, desperation etched in every inch of his expression. “Please, take it off.”
Amused, I responded with another laugh and slipped my left hand behind my back, swiftly unclasping the bra. While I expected Sebastian to express embarrassment or astonishment at the speed with which I freed myself, he was too preoccupied with his own anticipation.
