How to Sleep Together ✓

20| Normal

D A I S Y

Wilde came over every afternoon to my house. The days my gran was awake, we spoke. When she wasn't, Wilden was all mine, to touch, to do anything.

I learnt from Troy that they weren't a thing, Wilde and Cecile. He ended things with her. Which left us with no restrictions. We could do it for hours, my fingers touching him, from his face to his neck, to the collarbones, I've kissed countless of times before. He often laid still, letting me feel him, try to find that comfort I once felt.

It was funny how Zayeer hurt me, made me feel cheap.

He didn't rape me.

But I felt lost, a lonely ship in a storm. I didn't understand why my cravings weren't there anymore. Why the idea of kissing anyone save Wilden, didn't appeal to me.

Everything felt wrong.

Wilden didn't. I stole kisses from him, wondering why it felt right. Why his lips felt perfect and okay and safe. Why his body just made me feel warm again.

Wilden's sprawled on my bed, his breathing was even, eyes closed gently. I'd seen him sleep countless of times before. My fingers traced down his bare torso, admiring the contours of his body.

What would I have done to have him like this at fourteen.

Now, I was ugly, an ugly stain on what would be a cloth of white silk. I was selfish for keeping her, for using him. But I didn't want to let him go.

I watched him walk away once and it hurt me to no end. I was grateful now, I didn't beg, plead or worm my way in his life because he came back.

He came back.

I kissed him, his forehead, down to his nose to his lips. His lips moved to my own, in a way that was as easy as breathing. When we stop, I pulled apart, breaths a little heavy and his eyes open. His voice is deep, husky and surprised, "That's a nice way to wake up."

I grinned, "don't get used to it," but my voice is a whisper, my lips hovering over his. He didn't move to kiss me so I touched his lips again. I could feel his hesitancy, his worry for me. It wasn't like the first kiss today that he automatically responded, this was him trying not to push me.

"Kiss me," I whispered, "Please."

"Wasn't that what we were already doing?"

I laughed, "don't be a smart-alec."

His nose brushed against mine.

"Wilde," I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I know you punched Zayeer," I whispered.

"I'm not sorry," Wilde said, he kissed my lips gently, "I hate him," he whispered.

"Me too, I just wanted to say, thank you."

We moved apart and Wilde stared at me till my stomach did a flip. He hesitated then he said, "I would do it for you, any time."

Our lips met. My hands moving all around his body, his bare skin.

If home was a feeling, my home was with Wilde. I never felt so safe, so warm so comfortable than with his arms wrapped around me, touching me gently and never pushing me. We didn't do anything but kiss till we heard my gran wake up.