The door flies open and we fall through it into the bathroom, just catching ourselves. I turn Lydia so we’re both facing the bathroom mirror. I want her to see herself, as I see her. Flushed, eyes diamond-bright, her chest heaving. God, she’s fucking gorgeous and she’s all mine. I turn her around again and push her up against the now closed door, feverish with desire and the need to create a memory with her that reminds me of who I am, who we are together. I feel that together with Lydia, I can conquer kingdoms. I want to be inside her, part of her, with her so badly I think I might explode with the feeling. I’m well and truly out of control and I do not care. ‘Fuck, Lydia. I want you. So fucking much.’
‘Stop talking and do something about it,’ she says, her hand dropping between my legs and cupping my balls through the light fabric of my walking trousers. All thought leaves my brain.
He lifts my top, pushes down the cups of my bra and his mouth is hot against my breasts, his teeth grazing my nipple, sending shooting sparks of lust south.
‘Ah,’ I moan as the sensation fires through me. I’m up against the door writhing as he pleasures and tortures me, sucking hard and fast now. His hand has dropped to my crotch and is rubbing me through my jeans.
‘I’m always going to want you,’ he groans, pulling away from my breast, his hand grinding at the seams of my jeans. ‘I can’t help myself around you. There’s never been anyone like you.’
‘Tom.’ My voice is breathy. I’m so turned on, I’m undoing his belt buckle and he’s attacking my jeans’ zip.
His hand slips inside my pants. ‘Jesus, you’re wet.’
‘And you’re hard.’
‘So fucking hard. I’m going to explode, if I don’t get inside you right now. Do you want me?’
‘Yes. Oh God yes.’ He turns me round and yanks down my jeans, his hand immediately finding my seam, a finger stroking my clit.
‘Bend over, Lydia.’ He grabs my hips and pulls them towards him. I grip the sink with both hands and look in the mirror above it. His eyes are narrowed as if he’s in pain but he catches my gaze and we both look at each other.
‘Watch me,’ he rasps, slipping a finger inside me, then two. It’s exquisite torture. The he takes them out and with the wetness, he drags them along the cleft of my bottom, his eyes boring into me.
‘This is us.’ I feel the push of the tip of his finger against the tight ring of muscle. I can’t help the low moan that escapes as the thrill of illicit pleasure punches into me. His other hand smooths over my buttocks before his fingers push into me, rocking slightly. I gasp as he pushes a second finger in my vagina with one hand and the tip of one finger on his other hand pushes inexorably against my ring.
‘I want to fuck you so badly, Lydia. Want to fill you up, every hole. Like that night at my place. God. I’ve never forgotten it. Those little moans of yours, so sexy, so fucking sexy. Moan for me, now.’ He pushes a little hard against me, and the fingers on the other hand pump long and slow, sliding in and out, so that I can’t help the low whimpers that escape.
‘Tom,’ I beg, watching his eyes darken, his face taut.
‘I feel so fucking filthy with you, Lydia. Like I can let everything go. Why? Why is that?’
‘I don’t know but you talk too fucking much.’ I grind my hips, desperate for more.
He chokes out a laugh and tortures me some more, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing over it, while his fingers milk me. I’m getting close, there’s that burning tide rising and rising. I give him a pleading look and his grin is devilish. I drop my head. It’s too much. The minute I do, his fingers still inside me.
‘Uhnuh, Lydia. I want to watch you come apart. I want to see you come.’
‘Not fair,’ I gasp. My breath is coming in little hitches now and I push against his hand.
He starts to withdraw his fingers. My head shoots up.
He grins at me again. ‘Better.’
I glare at him but his smile widens and then his fingers slide in again. The feeling is so sharp and pleasurable it’s hard to keep my head up. He picks up the pace, watching me intently. My face contorts, I’m hanging by a thread but I can’t look away. I whimper again, fighting it, trying to hold on, trying so hard not to let myself go, not to show myself, that ultimate moment of vulnerability, but those fingers pump against me, relentless and merciless now.
‘Ahhh!’ He forces me over the line and the shuddering orgasm tears through me, wave after wave of sharp pleasure, making my knees weak. Tom’s smile as he holds my gaze is triumphant.
We stare at each other for a moment in the mirror. I’m a little glassy-eyed to be honest, light-headed with release, little pulses of pleasure aftershocking their way through my tender nerve endings.
Tom gently removes both hands, still watching me, and pushes his own jeans down, producing a condom and rolling it on. I feel the tip of his penis, probing and then his hands are pulling my legs wider. He uses the swollen head to tease my clit a couple of times before positioning it, his eyes holding mine and then he surges in, in one fierce warm thrust, stretching the walls of my vagina. Filling me. Oh God, it feels so good.
‘Oh God, Tom.’ I sigh, savouring the deliciously full sensation. My look is full of gratitude. ‘Oh yes. Oh please.’
His face is strained now, concentrating as he slowly, slowly fills me but his eyes never leave my face. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced and I’m so turned on and holding on so tight to my breath, I can hardly breathe.
He’s found a rhythm now, strong and steady. I’m having to hold on tight to the porcelain but I welcome every thrust. He’s getting deeper now. Deeper and faster. His face is a tortured mask, his eyes slitted in concentration and his mouth slightly open, as he pants hard. I can hardly keep up, it’s almost too much to take. Pleasure and pain battle it out. I’m not sure where one begins and the other ends.
‘Fuck, Lydia. Fuuuuck.’ His face twists, a silent cry on his lips and his expression one of tortured ecstasy. It fills me with so much feeling, my heart actually seems to have heated up, and then a second orgasm bursts over me, a tidal wave of pleasure and relief. Our eyes are locked in one long moment of primeval intensity that I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel again. If last night in the house felt like goodbye, this feels like death.
I’m not sure who tugs their gaze away first, but Tom pulls up my underwear and jeans before tucking himself back in and he draws me to his chest, burying his face in my hair before kissing my neck. Both of us are silent. The moment is charged with energy and it’s as if neither of us dare speak for fear of disturbing it.
Chapter Twenty-Six TOM
As I’m holding Lydia, realisation smacks me in the face. How am I ever going to let her go? Nothing has ever felt the way it does with her.
‘That was quite something,’ she says eventually, looking up at me – we’ve been standing like shell-shocked soldiers for a good few minutes. My heart rate is still jittery and erratic.
‘It was,’ I agree, resting my forehead against her, taking another shallow breath. There’s so much I want to say to her. The words are bubbling in my throat, but they won’t surface, I can’t get them out. Instead, I stroke her hair and hold on tight. Just having her in my arms, with her arms wrapped around my waist, grounds and steadies me. Suddenly all the cheesy lines from movies make sense, coalescing in a bright crystal moment.
The feelings burgeoning inside me are so big and full it feels like I’m trapped inside a balloon, feeling my way, stretching and trying to push through the outer skin. I need to put them into words but I don’t have the lexicon or the experience. Love in our family has always been dealt out like cards, limited to one hand at a time, dependent on winning the last game. I don’t know how to put into words the limitless depth of emotion. It’s euphoric and terrifying at the same time.
I lift my hand to cup Lydia’s cheeks and stare down into her face, hoping that I can share the feeling with my eyes alone.
And just like that her mouth curves and she brings her hand up to cover mine. My heart stumbles at the soft expression on her lovely face. How did I not notice before how beautiful she is, inside and out? And then suddenly it’s simple.
‘You’re everything,’ I tell her.
