Chapter Twenty-Nine

The first time, we don't make it to the bedroom. We don't even make it to the stairs. The first time it's up against the wall in the living room and it's fast and desperate, completely without finesse. By the time Theo buries himself inside me it feels as if we've had six weeks of painfully slow foreplay and neither of our bodies care to mess around.

Theo's jeans are undone, my skirt is up around my waist. I want his shirt off, but I can't stop kissing him long enough to make it happen and I settle for bunching the fabric in my fist, my other hand roaming over his warm skin.

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a condom.

‘You just carry condoms around in your jeans?' I ask, eyebrows raised.

He huffs out a laugh, kisses me again. ‘Lil handed them to me with a knowing look before she left the other day.'

I pull back. ‘My sister snuck you condoms? That's… that's…'

‘I know. But instead of dwelling on it, let's just be grateful.' He presses against me and I moan.

‘Yes,' I manage, ‘grateful. Very grateful.'

His first thrust has me gasping into his mouth. He moves his hand to my thigh, holding my leg, higher, tighter around his hip as he grinds into me over and over. I am stretched, full. Every sensation is too strong; my skin feels hypersensitive, each brush against it a flash of light. When his fingers dip between our bodies it only takes the lightest touch before I shatter, laughing and crying out gibberish as the orgasm sweeps through me.

He presses his face into my neck, his own rhythm faltering as he reaches his climax.

‘Fuck, Clemmie!' he exhales against my overheated skin. ‘Fuck.'

We stand still for a moment, breathing hard. I realize my eyes are closed, and when I peel them open it takes a second for Theo's face to swim into focus. He has a swathe of deep pink brushed across his cheeks; his eyes are wide. His hands rest on the wall either side of my face, and he leans forward, presses soft kisses across my cheekbone, down the side of my jaw.

‘That was… a little faster than I had intended,' he mumbles.

I laugh, the sound high and airless. ‘I don't think either of us were in a position to draw things out.'

He groans, pushes his hips forward, still hard inside me. I make an answering sound of agreement.

‘Right,' he says, clearly attempting to muster some self-control. ‘Let's at least make it upstairs next. I intend to take my time, and I've spent six very long weeks dreaming about you in my bed. Or your bed. Really any bed.'

‘Bed sounds good,' I agree thickly, though I band my arms tighter around him, pull his head down for a long, lingering kiss that escalates quickly to a clash of hands and teeth and tongues.

‘Bed,' Theo growls finally, pulling away from me, cold air rushing in between us. He deals with the condom, zips his jeans back up. ‘I'd sling you over my shoulder but I learned my lesson about trying to carry you up the stairs.'

He takes my hand, kisses me again, and again, and again. We move slowly, each step interrupted by these long, intoxicating kisses, and I'm rubbing myself against him totally without shame, searching for the friction my body craves. This time we make it as far as the stairs, before I am pushing him down, straddling him, greedy fingers tangled in his hair, his tongue in my mouth.

‘Stop, stop,' he says, and I freeze.

‘Clemmie. We cannot have sex on the stairs,' he says sternly. ‘We are grown-up people, only steps away from a comfortable bed. If we don't move, I'm going to do some serious damage to my back, get carpet burn in unmentionable places.'

Oh God, stern Theo is such a turn-on; my grabby little hands are already reaching for him of their own accord.

His eyes darken and then we're kissing again, and I think we really are going to have sex on the stairs – even though Theo is right and it is deeply, deeply uncomfortable – because peeling even a millimetre of my skin away from his feels like it is simply not an option.

Then his arm is under my legs and he's lifting me and my hands are wrapped around his biceps as the muscles there tighten and, oh, his arms, his arms! And somehow he has us both back on our feet. Before I can utter a word of protest, he grabs my hand and drags me up the last of the stairs, practically flinging me through the door to my bedroom – which is the closest – and onto the bed.

‘Clothes off. Now,' he manages, already stripping off his T-shirt.

I wriggle out of my top and bra – my skirt and underwear having been discarded along the way – and lie back, too turned on to be self-conscious about my own nakedness, too busy taking in every bare inch of Theo's insane body, the way he's looking at me with an unholy light in his eyes.

‘This time,' he growls, ‘we're doing things slowly.' My toes curl up at the deep note in his voice, and then he climbs on the bed, moves over me and now that there is nothing between us, now that we are skin to skin, I think I am going to die of the pleasure of it.

And then his mouth is everywhere.

‘I'm obsessed with your skin,' Theo mutters, then he lifts his head, frowns. ‘That sounded wrong. Not in a creepy serial-killer way. I don't want to wear your skin…'

‘Shut up, weirdo,' I giggle, squirming under him.

Theo grins, goes back to pressing open-mouthed kisses over my chest, down my ribs. ‘You're so soft,' he sighs, his breath skating over me, making me shiver. ‘So, so soft. You taste so good. I want to bite you.'

‘Again, with the serial-killer vibes,' I gasp, and he chuckles as he moves so that his lips are at my thighs, and he bites me gently, a scrape of his teeth.

‘Oh my God, Theo,' I pant a minute later. ‘Please. Please. Please.'

‘So. Fucking. Polite,' Theo punctuates each word with a kiss. ‘Tell me what you want, Clemmie. Everything you want.'

It's a perfect kind of torture, and true to his word, Theo draws it out, taking his time, until I feel like I'm going to lose my mind, until I am incapable of words and dimly aware that I am making noises I have never made before. The world shrinks down to the touch of his fingers, his tongue, and when he finally lets me come I feel all my muscles lock, my body bows off the bed.

‘Oh my God,' I whisper, my heart pounding in my ears. ‘Oh my God, oh my God.'

Theo pulls me to him in a tangle of sweaty limbs, a pleased smile on his face. ‘That was even better than I remember, and I've been remembering it a lot.'

‘Oh really?' I grin.

His arm drifts over my waist, turning me away from him, my back to his chest. ‘Yes, really,' he says softly, his lips against the shell of my ear. ‘But do you know what has been tormenting me for weeks? Lying there, just on the other side of this wall?'

‘What?' I ask, breathlessly, pressing myself back against his erection, eliciting a groan of appreciation.

‘The vibrator Serena sent you. Have you been using it?'

‘Yes,' I say, then add the full truth in a whisper. ‘I was thinking of you.'

Theo flips me onto my back, looms over me, and he looks half-wild now. His teeth flash in a feral smile. ‘Show me.'

So I do.

It's hours later when we finally stumble downstairs, looking like we've both (barely) survived some sort of sexy tornado.

It's the middle of the night and we're in the kitchen. I am wearing Theo's T-shirt and making scrambled eggs and toast.

Theo is leaning against the counter, completely naked because ‘we could have been doing this for weeks, Clemmie. We could have been naked together for weeks. I'm never putting on clothes again and neither should you. You should definitely always be naked from now on.'

‘I'm not going to cook eggs naked,' I say firmly. ‘It feels… unhygienic and potentially dangerous.'

‘Who needs to eat?' Theo exclaims expansively, snaking an arm around my waist and nuzzling my tangled hair.

‘We do!' I huff. ‘I think we probably just burned ten thousand calories. If we don't eat something and hydrate, my body might turn to dust.'

‘Hmmm, wouldn't want that,' Theo agrees, taking the plate I hand him. ‘And I think I like seeing you in my clothes almost as much as I like seeing you naked.'

I blush, which is ridiculous, given everything that has just happened between us, but I can't help it. I don't think any of this has really sunk in yet.

We eat our eggs at the kitchen counter mostly in comfortable silence. Theo clearly realizes he's ravenous after all because once he's finished his he starts trying to scoop food off my plate and I'm forced to threaten him with a kitchen utensil.

‘Careful where you're waving that thing!' Theo yelps.

‘This is another reason to put on clothes,' I smile sweetly.

‘I can't believe you're complaining about my lack of clothing,' Theo sighs, getting to his feet. ‘The shine is off already. You've had my body and now you're tiring of me.'

Even though his tone is joking, I know him well enough to hear the tiny, truthful fear at the heart of those words.

I stand as well, wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze him tight, plant a kiss on the perfect pectoral muscle in front of my face. ‘I honestly don't think I could ever get tired of you, Theo.' I smile against his skin. ‘Yes, I think you're unbelievably hot and you've potentially ruined sex for me forever, but I also think you're sweet and clever and funny and extremely, extremely silly, which is maybe my favourite thing about you.'

‘Really?' He looks down at me, and there's a vulnerability in his expression that makes my heart squeeze.

‘Do I really think you're extremely silly?' I go up on my tiptoes, kiss the corner of his mouth. ‘Yes.' I take my courage in my hands. ‘I'm totally mad about you. Full of very big feelings.'

His hands at my waist, he lifts me off my feet, spins me round. When my feet touch the ground again I'm laughing, and he catches my mouth with his. ‘Very big feelings is good,' he whispers. ‘Now, let's go back to bed.'

The next morning I wake up in Theo's arms. This time we shower together. This time nobody leaves.