It was like being cut off from the very air I needed to breathe.
I sighed as he tossed the fabric away, the champagne bottle still clutched in the fingers of my right hand. We looked at each other again, staring at one another, examining faces we'd already memorized a million times over. I wondered what this was like for Flor, to look into the face of a girl who wasn't a stranger and then kiss her. His most serious relationships hadn't lasted a fraction of the time that we'd known each other.
I said nothing and he did the same. I think we both knew that if we talked too much, one or the other of us would ruin this. At this point, I didn't know or care if this was just a taste of him, if he planned to teach me a lesson by having sex with me and tossing me aside. I needed to know, needed to feel him inside of me, feel his bare body against mine. This was the way it needed to be.
Flor leaned back and removed his own shirt, revealing the beautiful planes of his muscles and a body that I had admired from afar for too long. In the back of my mind, I knew I was being a hypocritical bitch, that I was betraying too many people with one single breath and a handful of kisses that burned brighter than the sun. My dad, Flor's mom, Max, Rhonda, even Addi. But I couldn't stop. If I really closed my eyes and thought hard, this meant more to me than any of that.
Flor moved his mouth down, across the hollow of my throat and then along the line of my bra, teasing the purple lace with his tongue. His right hand stayed wrapped around my waist while his left lifted my wrist and with it, the bottle of champagne. He took a drink with it still clutched in my fingers and then pressed his mouth to mine. The bubbles shifted between us as he kissed me, and I swallowed a mouthful of champagne, letting Flor pull me tighter against him. Our bare bodies met and when I looked down, I could see my tattoo gleaming in the last rays of sunlight. He'd said the stag represented the transgressing of the taboo. Was that what we were doing? Was his touch on my skin wrong? I didn't even know the answer to that.
Flor's hand slid up and deftly unhooked the clasp of my bra, the lace falling forward suddenly. I had a moment of sheer panic, dropping the bottle as I struggled to clasp the fabric to my chest. Flor's going to see my bare chest! It was almost surreal. I stared into Florian's face, mesmerized by his half-hooded eyes and hungry expression, as the champagne hit the roof and splashed all over our pants before rolling down the shingles, drenching my discarded shirt as it went. It plummeted into the backyard and crashed into my father's perfectly kempt lawn. Flor and I ignored it while he worked to unhook my arms from around my chest, reveal the fullness of my breasts to him. I'd seen him nude dozens of times, but to my knowledge, he'd never once seen me.
I flushed from head to toe as he examined me with those bright green eyes of his and then leaned forward, putting his mouth around my nipple. My fingers grappled with his dark hair, twisting it around and pulling it, tugging on those silky strands that I'd wanted to get my hands on for so long. I crushed his face to my chest as he increased the pressure of his mouth, sucking and biting and moving his way from one side to the other. One thing could be said for all of Flor's years of practice: he was good. Better than Max even, and I knew he was no amateur either.
I sighed, my breath carried away on the breeze as the evening grew colder but I only grew hotter. Sweat beaded on my lower back and chest as Flor continued to kiss his way across my skin, moving back towards my neck, my jawline, my lips. We kissed again and the fervor between us seemed to amplify, a low growl escaping his throat as a moan escaped mine. I played with his lip rings, tasting the metal, tugging on them with my teeth, just as I'd always wanted to. It was strange, surreal even, to have a dream I'd wanted so hard for so long come true, but I didn't have the capacity to examine it in that moment.
If this didn't last, I needed this memory fresh and clear and perfect.
"Flor," I whispered as he leaned back and ran his hand along the waistband of my leggings, touching my skin, examining my tattoo. He curled his fingers under the fabric and tugged it down, lower than he needed to to see the entire piece. I felt my heart skip a beat, my breath come ragged and broken. I closed my eyes and remembered the sensation of his needle piercing my skin, his eyes on my body, his fingers brushing my flesh. And then the memories became real and I opened my eyes, finding Flor's gaze locked on mine again.
He reached up a gentle hand and brushed some of my hair back.
"Abigail." That was it, all he said, just a word. I leaned into him and we kissed again, heat suffusing my chest, the ache between my legs growing to an impossible crescendo. Before I even knew what was happening, Flor was flipping us over, pushing me into the shingles of the roof. My head was pillowed on the rumpled fabric of his shirt as he looked down at me and then grabbed the waistband of my leggings once again. Only this time, he wasn't just looking at his artwork on my skin. This time, he was pulling the fabric over my hips, down my thighs, my knees, and finally sliding it over my bare feet. The only thing left between my complete nakedness and him was a pair of purple panties. He stared at them for a moment, his jaw working like he was angry about something and then he just shook his head.
I watched the muscle in his jaw work as he forced himself to relax.
Flor's mouth found mine again and then trailed down my belly, to the pink and purple jewel pierced through my flesh, and he tugged on it with his teeth, lighting up yet another erogenous zone I hadn't even known I'd had. My belly, my hips, my thighs. Flor worked his magic up and down my body, avoiding the one area I so desperately wanted him to touch.
When I finally sat up on my elbows and reached out to unbutton his jeans, he took both my hands in his and looked me straight in the face. It was that look that made me realize that no matter what had happened before or what might happen after, that he loved me, just as much if not more than I loved him. I thought of his paintings suddenly, of his tattoos, of how familiar those girls looked, and I came to the realization that what I'd seen in all of their faces, in their poses and smiles, each of them had just a little bit of me. Flor had been painting me, whether he meant to or not.
He released me, sliding his fingers up my arms, and sat back, letting me unbutton his jeans and push them down his hips. Oh my God, Florian Harper Riley. When did this happen? I opened my mouth to say something, to tell him how shocked I was or ask if it would hurt, when he leaned over and breathed warm breath across my cheek.
"You always wondered," he told me with that arrogant smirk growing on his face. "And now you know."
"I knew you didn't wear underwear," I told him, referencing a specific incident when I'd walked in on him in the bathroom and found him pushing his pants down his hips. I'd only gotten a shot of bare ass, but that'd been enough to make me squirm for weeks. "But I … "
"Had no idea exactly what my complete catalogue of body art contained?" I flushed and nodded, too embarrassed to say anything else. Yes, witty exchanges were our thing, bickering was our thing, but this was a whole new animal for me.
Flor had pierced junk.
Holy crap.
I took a deep breath and tried to still my hammering heart. Flor didn't just have one ring, but a few. I didn't know what to call any of them, but there they were, metal gleaming on the tip of his cock and even on his balls. I swallowed hard, my gaze drawn to the long length of him, the gentle curve of his dick. I wasn't an expert on length or anything, but I knew he was bigger than Max. Seven inches maybe?
I glanced away again and Flor leaned forward, kissing the side of my neck, brushing my hair back from my face. One arm circled around me and pulled me down to the roof while he settled himself on top of me. His fingers found my panties and stroked along the fabric, forcing me to bite my lip to keep from crying out. My clit was hard beneath his fingers and I knew I was already wet, completely soaked through. Just looking at him was usually enough to get me there.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight and reveled in the feel of him pulling the fabric down, revealing my entire body to him in one smooth motion. He continued downward, letting my body weight rest on the roof as he moved back and tossed the panties aside. I opened my eyes suddenly and found them tumbling over the edge to the yard, just like the champagne bottle.
I didn't have a chance to protest because Flor was back, pressing the heat of his body against mine. I could feel him hard and ready at my opening, as desperate for me as I was for him. I bit my lip so hard it bled, looked up into his face and rested my palms on his cheeks.