Chapter 14

⚠️ WARNING FROM MEOWINGHAM : NOT SAFE FOR WORK. EXPLICIT SCENES COMING.

Faye

A soft knock on the door jolted me from my comfortable spot on the couch. I glanced around the living room, quickly checking to make sure everything was in order. Then, taking a deep breath, I rose and walked toward the door with purposeful steps.

I paused just before opening it, smoothing my hair and ensuring I looked presentable—though, in reality, I was dressed in simple home clothes: a black t-shirt and comfortable sweat shorts. It was an odd mix of casual and nervous.

Everything had changed with Yoko, and I was still trying to wrap my head around it all. We were stepping into new territory, and though it thrilled me to the core, it also felt foreign—sometimes even a little terrifying. But the excitement of what was unfolding between us made it all feel worth it.

I opened the door and there she was, casually dressed, looking effortlessly stunning. I couldn't help but smile as I noticed how her long hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her warm eyes met mine, sending a rush of excitement through me.

"Hey," I said, flashing a grin, my voice full of warmth as I welcomed her in.

"Hey," she replied, trying to sound casual, though I could tell she was just as excited as I was.

"Come on in. Hope you're hungry, 'cause I thought we could make lunch together," I said, stepping aside to let her into the living room.

"Sounds good," she said, her gaze wandering around the room, taking everything in like she was seeing a treasure chest.

"See anything you like?" I asked, walking into the kitchen, a smile tugging at my lips. Her simple admiration for my place made me happy.

I paused when she didn't immediately respond. When I turned back, she was looking at me, her eyes soft, filled with something more. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I did," she said, her voice low.

And I couldn't help but notice how her eyes were saying that, out of everything in the room, I was the one she couldn't take her eyes off.

"Come help me out, will you?" I said with a hint of shyness, turning my back to her as I pulled out the ingredients for lunch.

"What are we making?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Something simple and quick... Aglio Olio pasta," I replied, handing her the pasta and pot. "Fill the pot with water and get it boiling, then I'll work on the prawns and garlic."

She nodded, eager to jump in. 

The task was easy, and soon enough, the water was boiling, and she dropped the pasta in, watching it carefully like it was the most important thing in the world. Meanwhile, the sizzle of garlic filled the air, followed by the prawns, their aroma mixing with the heat of the chili flakes.

We worked side by side, and I couldn't help but smile at how effortlessly everything was going. It felt like we were a dream team. Our conversation flowed easily, from the latest gossip in her group of friends to whatever random thoughts popped into our heads.

There was something so easy about being with her, the way we exchanged glances and smiles that seemed to hang in the air a little longer than usual. 

The atmosphere was light and comfortable, but I could feel the quiet tension, the undeniable pull between us. We both knew it was there, but neither of us was rushing to address it—just letting the moment unfold naturally.

While the pasta simmered, I leaned casually against the counter, my gaze drifting from Yoko's shoulders to her waist. She stood focused on the bubbling pot, completely unaware of the effect she had on me.

"So," I began, my voice soft but probing, "how do you feel about all this? About... us?" I watched her turn, her eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity.

"It's... a lot to take in," she admitted honestly. I couldn't disagree, especially with the memory of someone else's kiss still lingering in my mind.

"Yeah," I murmured, a hint of jealousy slipping through, "especially when you've had girls kissing you before..." My words trailed off, a mixture of sadness and insecurity lacing my tone.

"Faye," she said quickly, crossing the kitchen to stand closer, her hand slipping into mine. Her grip was firm, almost pleading. "It was nothing. Just... a moment that didn't mean anything." Her voice was steady, reassuring.

"When Becky kissed my cheek, it didn't feel... real. Nothing like how I feel when I'm with you." Her eyes lowered, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. "We're just friends, and she knows there's nothing more between us."

I tilted my head, gently lifting her chin so our eyes met again. I could see them reddening, and without thinking, I pulled her into a warm embrace. "I know," I whispered into her ear, my voice soft. "I know your heart is with me."

She buried her face into my shoulder, her body relaxing against mine. 

After a moment, she pulled back, her eyes searching mine. "I've always known I like women... but I've never actually been with anyone. Being with you feels... surreal. Sometimes, I wonder how I got so lucky to be with someone like you—so elegant and distant on the outside, but full of warmth and romance underneath."

I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "That's quite a string of oxymorons. Cold but warm?"

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah. To others, you seem cold, distant, even a bit intimidating. But to me, you're sweet, warm, and so loving. Who else would know that but me? I'm the lucky one."

I shook my head, a soft smile on my lips. "I'm the lucky one. I never thought I'd meet someone.. Like how Tess met Angel"

She laughed gently. "You always say things that make me feel everything at once. I get lost in your words, in your voice."

I softened, pulling her closer. "Let me be your first."

"You'd want that?" Her voice wavered, full of vulnerability.

I nodded. "If you'll let me."

Her smile was soft and sweet, a silent yes. She leaned in, and our lips met—gentle, tender, unhurried. The kiss wasn't urgent; it was filled with a quiet, profound connection. My heart soared, overwhelmed by the tenderness of it all.

This was real. This was ours.

As the kiss deepened, our passion ignited, a slow-burning desire turning into something fierce and unstoppable. My hands slid to her waist, lifting her effortlessly as though she weighed nothing, setting her on the counter where I'd been leaning just moments ago.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in our safe haven. Even the soft bubbling of the pot on the stove seemed distant, insignificant.

"Yoko," I whispered, my voice husky against her lips.

She pulled back slightly, breathless, eyes wide with both excitement and hesitation. "What about our food...?" she murmured, the question a fragile barrier against the rising heat between us.

A slow, wicked smile curved my lips. My eyes locked onto hers, dark with a different kind of hunger. "I'd rather savour you."

She laughed softly, the sound a delicate thrill, her exhilaration feeding mine. My hands slid down, resting on her thighs, my thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles on her skin—each touch sparking waves of electricity.

Leaning in again, I captured her lips, our kiss deepening, urgent. My mouth traced along her jawline, then down the column of her neck, where I paused, lingering. A quiet moan escaped her lips, a sound that set my pulse racing.

I grinned against her skin, my voice low. "Found your sweet spot, huh?"

"Seems like it..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, each word trembling with anticipation. Her vulnerability, her surrender, made me ache with a deeper need.

I kissed the spot again, teasing, drawing out more soft moans. Her body responded instinctively, her breath hitching as I lingered, my touch exploring, my lips savoring.

In this moment, time stood still; the world outside ceased to exist. Nothing mattered but us, entwined in this intimate dance.

She gently pushed me back, her eyes darkening, filled with an unspoken plea. "Faye..." my name fell from her lips, a whisper heavy with desire.

I stepped closer, my hands caressing her thighs, sliding higher, testing boundaries we both knew we wanted to cross. "Can I?" I asked, my voice thick, heat flooding through me—though not from the boiling pot.

"Yes." The word fell from her lips, soft and trembling, yet resolute. It was all the invitation I needed.

I knelt before her, gently parting her knees, my heart pounding with anticipation. This moment—this connection—was electric, undeniable, ours.

"Can you lift your hips for me, babe?" My voice was soft, filled with anticipation and care.

She complied, lifting her hips gracefully. My fingers hooked onto the loops of her shorts, slowly sliding them down, then carefully removing her underwear. I discarded them to the side, every movement deliberate, every moment charged with unspoken intimacy.

I paused, looking up at her, searching her eyes for that silent permission. Her gaze met mine, warm and inviting, and she nodded—a gesture that said everything words couldn't.

Not withholding back, I flatten my tongue against her warm, soaked clit. My tongue skillfully alternates between long, slow licks and rapid flicks. Soon, a sweet moan escapes from her lips, a sound that turns me on easily.

I slid in one finger slowly, watching her taking it as it penetrated her. Another moan came, this time expressing her pleasure and satisfaction. I slid another into her, and her back arches as I watched on. Her hands bracing on the counter as the sensations sends shivers and tremble through her entire body.

"Oh Fuck.." She muttered breathlessly, her entire being trying to adapt the intrusion as I curled my fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot with precision.

She then let out a gasp as I found it successfully, her hands now tangling through my hair, pulling me closer and she succumb to the irresistible pleasure.

"Faye," She moaned my name, barely a whisper as my fingers masterfully pumped in and out of her entrance insistently, my mouth working wonders on her clit. I could feel her on the edge as her insides were tightening, clamping my fingers down. I gently tug on her clit with my teeth, immediately sending her off the edge as a jolt of pleasure struck through her, unravelling as she came, exploding on the countertop of my kitchen.

After she calmed down, I gently withdrew my fingers and stood up, my face flushed with desire and a quiet sense of triumph. Without missing a beat, she pulled me in close, her lips finding mine, tasting the lingering trace of herself on my mouth.

The kiss was sweet and slow, like we were savouring a secret only we knew. She gently nipped at my lower lip before pulling back, her eyes wide with awe.

"God," she breathed, "that was... incredible."

I grinned, our foreheads pressed together. "Glad to hear it."

"I... I didn't know it could feel like that," she admitted, her cheeks tinged pink.

I chuckled, teasingly. "Oh, there's a lot more where that came from." I winked, the promise hanging between us like a silent vow.

We lingered for a moment before I helped her down from the counter. Turning around, I picked up her discarded panties and shorts, helping her slip back into them with my fingers brushing 'accidentally' over her sensitive spot.

Once she was dressed, I planted a soft, lingering kiss on her lips before turning back to the stove.

"Hmm, looks like we'll be enjoying some overcooked aglio olio," I sighed, a sheepish smile tugging at my lips. "Can't imagine how that happened."

Yoko burst out laughing, eyes twinkling. "Oh, I wonder," she teased, clearly amused by my mock innocence.

After lunch, we found ourselves nestled on the couch. The sun cast a warm glow across the room, soft beams highlighting her side profile, making her look even more radiant. My arms draped around her neck as I gently played with her hair, feeling a deep sense of peace and joy in this quiet, shared moment.

"Right, so..." I broke the comfortable silence, drawing her attention as she glanced up from her phone. I nodded toward it. "Your poem?"

Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise as she remembered. "Oh, right." She smiled, her fingers hovering over our message thread. "Someone didn't reply as promised, though."

I gently pulled her closer, my eyes locking onto hers with a playful dominance. "Well, someone got confessed to that day. It's only natural to need a moment to process."

She let out a soft, awkward laugh, trying to mask her embarrassment as I cornered her. "Hmm, who could that be?" Her eyes darted away, avoiding mine, clearly hoping I'd let the topic slide.

But I didn't. 

Holding her close, I leaned in and lightly kissed her lips. As I pulled away, my fingers trailed gently along her lips, tracing their outline. Our eyes met, and in that silent gaze, there was an unspoken understanding: the past was behind us. 

Right now, it was just the two of us—and that was more than enough.

"I think your poem's brilliant. I love how you continued with the same theme. If you keep going, you might even turn it into a book," I encouraged, bringing us back to our original conversation.

She flashed me a charming smile, her dimples showing. Adorable.

"Yeah, there's so much more to write now. So many feelings," she said, pointing at her phone. "In this poem, the two characters haven't gotten together yet. But in real life, the poet and the person she's writing about are already a thing."

I smiled, fully aware that the "princess in the ivory tower" was me from the start.

Feigning innocence, I asked, "Who's this princess in the tower?"

She narrowed her eyes, her expression incredulous, as if to say, Seriously? Haven't I given you enough hints?

Softly, she scoffed. "Aren't you an English lit major? Shouldn't be that hard to figure out."

I raised an eyebrow, playing along. "The poet's pretty mysterious. I'm struggling to decipher it. Maybe—"

Before I could finish, she kissed me, cutting off my teasing. I smiled against her lips, parting them to deepen the kiss. Sweet, fervent, and packed with passion, the moment lingered until we finally broke apart, leaning back on the couch.

"Do you know now?" she asked, eyes sparkling with love.

I nodded, a soft laugh escaping. "I knew from the very start."

"Good," she replied, winking playfully. "I'd have been disappointed if you didn't. It was as obvious as it gets."

With her back comfortably leaning against my chest and her head resting in my embrace, she scrolled through her phone. I planted soft kisses on her hair as we watched some funny videos together, laughter mingling with the afternoon light.

"What are your hobbies?" she asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

I smiled, thinking for a moment. "Hmm, I read," I replied honestly.

She chuckled softly. "I figured as much. What else?"

I pondered, reflecting on what truly filled my free time. "I write poems, like you."

Her eyes widened with excitement. "Really? You do?" she exclaimed, her admiration evident. "Will you share them with me?"

I gently patted her head, a tender smile forming. "Of course. I'll let you read them sometime."

"Promise you'll read them out loud to me?" she asked, her eyes wide and irresistible, practically pleading.

I couldn't help but grin. "I promise," I said, unable to resist her charm.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a cozy blur, filled with shared glances and quiet laughter. Eventually, evening came, and Yoko had to head home to tackle her assignments. Though reluctant to part, I held her in a warm, lingering embrace before she left.

Later, nestled under the covers, I felt my heart overflow with warmth. I found myself rereading her poems, each word now carrying a deeper meaning. Knowing they were meant for me—a subtle confession woven through verses—made my heart swell. 

I imagined how she might have crafted each line, building towards a beautiful climax of emotion, and my smile widened.

As my eyelids grew heavier, I drifted into a peaceful sleep, my heart full and content. Whatever tomorrow would bring, I knew we'd face it together.