Page 11 of The Moments You Miss
I can feel his uncertainty, but I also feel his strength. The way he holds onto me isn’t desperate— it’s steady. Comforting. And that’s how I know.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb gently traces the back of my hand.
I swallow, my throat dry, but I don’t hesitate. “I’m sure,” I say, my voice stronger than I expect. Slowly, he leans in, and I meet him halfway. Our lips touch again, soft at first. I can feel the warmth of him, his lips gentle against mine. There is nothing rushed about it. He is taking his time, giving me control, giving me the go ahead tocontinue. I relish the all-encompassing feeling of his tongue against mine. This is a moment I wish could last longer than just this second in time.
His hand slides from mine, to my waist and pulls me closer. I let myself fall into it, he deepens the kiss. Our breaths are interconnected, like we are both virgins, figuring this out for the first time. I could feel the beat of my heart in my chest, louder and faster the closer he gets to me. My fingers tangle in his hair, his other hand comes up to cup my cheek, and his touch sends a ripple of warmth through me.
When we finally pull back, breathless and flushed, my forehead rests against his. I close my eyes, my heart racing, trying to calm the storm inside me. I don’t want to overthink this. I don’t want to ruin it.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tender; his one hand still resting on my face, thumb gently stroking my skin, the other still gripping my waist. I nod, opening my eyes just enough to look up at him. The air in the room has changed, it isn’t soft and gentle anymore, it is passionate and heated.
“More than okay,” I whisper breathlessly, smiling softly. Biting my lower lip, my hand traces up and down his defined biceps. I lean in and our lips crash together, hard, and rough. The fire that burns in my core pulses as I crawl up to him, my knee between his legs.
He angles himself towards me. A moan slips out of my mouth as I lick his lips, my tongue pressing forward demanding entrance. He opens for me, an indecent, guttural moan escaping from his lips as he returns the kiss.
“Cherry.” The breathless word that leaves Cameron’s mouth sends a shiver down my spine, leaving me feeling undone and we lose it.
In a sudden frenzy his hands are all over my body, exploring every inch of me, touching, grazing. Hard calluses rake along my back as he pulls my shirt off and onto the floor next to us. He takes me and leaves me panting as our eyes connect again. His head leans into my neck, hot breath hitting behind my ear as he nips at my pulse point, sending it fluttering through the roof. His teeth are pulling at my ear, my back arching reactively as a whimper escapes my lips.
“Cam–” I can’t speak, as if all words have emptied from my mind as this man begins to worship my body like it’s all he knows. Cameron pushes me back onto the couch, his hand gripping my bare waist as he peppers kisses down my collar bone, his body hovering.
“You’re. Fucking. Stunning.” Cameron’s voice is confident and breathy somehow at the same time. He continues lower, his eyes burning a hole through my soul as he looks up at me through heavy lidded eyes. He’s silently asking for permission one last time. I nod a little too aggressively as he slowly makes his way to my breasts, sucking the left nipple he begins to cup my right, my body feels as though it’s on fire. Every nerve ending lights up along it.
“More—d” I somehow get out as he caresses both breasts with fervor, looking up at me through hooded eyes. His once clear green eyes are dark with lust as my back once again arches in pleasure from just his mouth, he smirks at me.
“Tell me, Cherry, would you like me to worship you with my fingers or my tongue? Best choose quickly, because I need to knowif you taste as sweet as you look,” in a voice that wholly doesn’t sound like him.
“Tongue– god yes– fuck...” The words escape my lips far too quickly to be casual. This man has my entire body reacting in ways I didn’t even know possible. In a moment, my entire body wracked with want, as he forces my leggings down my legs around my ankles. The anticipation and pleasure intensifies as he rips away my underwear, his eyes dark when he looks up at me from in between my legs.
“God, Cherry– you’re fucking dripping.”
I tense up as his finger glides down my clit and a noise, I’m not even certain is human, leaves my mouth. Without warning, he thrusts his tongue into me. I grasp onto the couch, arching my back putting more pressure onto his tongue, as the pleasure radiates through my body. He curls his tongue in a way that coaxes me to my breaking point, and the heat mixed with pleasure begins to build in my back.
“I-I… Cam– I’m–” I fight the words to come out, my head tilts back and my eyes catch on something red on my windowsill. A metaphorical bucket of cold water hits me as my eyes fly open and I’m pushing myself away from him.
“No, no, no...” I scoot backwards, falling off the couch as Cam sits there for a moment looking confused.
“Leyla– are you okay? What… What’s wrong?” The concern flickers in his eyes, as he sets himself right. He doesn’t see it, the blood pulsing through my ears is no longer from my near orgasm moments before. It’s from the utter terror of seeing the long-stemmed rose sitting outside on my windowsill. The air in the room feels like it’s below zero and I can’t fuckingbreathe. My hand flies up to my chest and immediately I’m grabbing for my shirt.
I’m having a fucking panic attack.
Chapter 8
Tight Chest, Soft Hands
Cameron
My heart sinks as I watch Leyla begin to have a panic attack. I’m no stranger to them but it somehow doesn’t make it any easier to know that there’s nothing I can do to directly stop it.
“Leyla. Leyla, look at me.Breathe. You’re okay, it’s okay. What’s going on?“ I look at her, utterly confused.
I haven’t the slightest clue as to what is going on with her or what caused her to go from riding my face one moment, to gasping for air the next. Her face is pale and she’s muttering something over and over, about it not happening again. My gaze follows hers while she’s mid-panic and that’s when I see it. A single red rose on her windowsill.
“Cherry, look at me. Look at me, I’ll get rid of it, okay? Just focus on breathing for me.” I’m almost certain every word I’ve said has gone in one ear out the other. But, I’m running over to thewindow, flinging it open, grabbing the rose, and tossing it on her counter. My body instinctively pulls her close to me, I’m aware I’m essentially a stranger, but clearly my words aren’t doing much for her.
Her body is vibrating with an unfettered fear, and I don’t know how to help her. This is so out of my comfort zone, but I hold her and let her sob into my shirt. I look at that stupid rose sitting on her counter and I have no idea where this thing came from. I just know whoever it is, I will find them.
Minutes pass and it seems that her sobs have finally calmed down. I run my hand up and down her back and break the thick silence, “Ley?” Her tear-stained face runs through me as if it is a truck running a red light, but she lets out a soft sigh and clears her throat.
