Black Blood

He immediately responds by moving his lips against mine. Kissing is something I am now comfortable and familiar with, when it comes to Novak. The first few times I kissed him like a baby girl just learning to stand. Now I’m more confident and don’t think about it, usually.

Novak’s arms wrap around my waist. Although I no longer think about the kissing itself, I do think about my next steps. If you could look inside my head you would see a chaos of questions without answers. Should I take off his outerwear? Is that too fast? Do I want to do this? Am I doing it right?

The questions run through my head to the point that I don’t pay attention to how I move my lips. Nine times out of ten, it feels good to kiss him, I get warm and forget everything around me. This time, I only feel my heartbeat accelerate. I only notice that I have stopped moving my lips until Novak pulls away. Slowly I open my eyes.

‘Are you alright,’ Novak asks softly. His fingers slide slowly and gently over my cheek. The touch is loving and seems to calm me. I nod with a slight doubt. If I’m completely honest with myself, I’m bloody nervous.

He wants to step back, but I have other plans. I put my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me again. He raises his eyebrows and wraps his arms around my waist again. His eyes shoot over my face. His furrowed brows, searching eyes and somewhat tense muscles tell me that he does not understand my intention.

I ignore his questioning look and press my lips against his again. This time, he does not immediately kiss me back with abandon. His lips move slowly, almost tentatively. His arms hang tense along my waist. It makes me wonder if I am doing something wrong. I do my best to banish the doubts from my mind. I am going to do this, I want to do this, I think.

My hands slide down Novak’s neck, through his back to the bottom of his shirt. Through his clothes, I feel his muscles and warm skin against my hands. With Christiaan, I was never the one taking innegatives. I now believe that everything I did with Christiaan is not a good example of how it should be, if I can believe Novak’s stories. I don’t know how it should be. Novak once told me to follow my feelings, but I can’t do that as easily as he made it seem.

As the kiss progresses, Novak’s doubts seem to fade. His movements become harder, more lustful. His hands grip my waist tighter as he pulls me closer to him. The doubts in my body, however, do not abate. I don’t seem to be able to enjoy the kiss. I’m too preoccupied with what to do or if I’m doing it right.

My hands linger on the bottom of his shirt, which is tucked into his trousers. Should I pull the piece of fabric out of his trousers or should he do that. I am in such doubt that my hands remain motionless at the edge of his trousers. However stupid and insecure this action may be, Novak does not take it lying down. Gently, he gives a squeeze to my waist. That small gesture gives me encouragement. The doubts seem to subside a little and I can better focus on how warm and pleasant his touch is.

The whole time, there has been no deepening of the kiss, no tongue. Something prevents me from taking that step and Novak doesn’t take the innegative either. This is enough tension for now. I like the fact that Novak allows me to do this at my pace. I don’t get the feeling from him that he wants it faster or in any other way.

My hands touch the bottom of his shirt. For a moment, doubt hits my hands like a hammer.

Is there still a way back if I do this? I take a deep breath against Novak’s lips before taking the fabric tighter in my hands and pulling it out of the top of his trousers.

What do I do now? Pull his shirt over his head? You could say I’m thinking way too much. I slowly move my head away from Novak’s, look at him. The two shining blue eyes give me an encouraging look. That is the last thing I need to grab his shirt by the bottom again and pull it awkwardly over his head.

He has to put his arms in the air and help me open his head. My cheeks turn red, my heartbeat quickens. I tend to put my hands in front of my face. This must have looked so stupid. My eyes deviate from his bare torso as soon as he drops his shirt on the floor.

I have seen Novak shirtless before so the sight should not surprise me. Yet I continue to feel insecure and do not allow my eyes to glide over it.

‘It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,’ he says as if he can read my thoughts. With an increased heart rate and my hands folded together, I slowly turn my head. Although I said I’ve seen Novak shirtless before I’ve never really let my eyes slide over his skin. This is the first time I’ve taken in his skin properly. The colour of his skin is as white as the rest of his body. His chest is slightly muscular, just enough so that you can see the lines running. His ribs are not visible under his pale skin. His belly is as tight as physically possible.

My cheeks heat up again, this time not out of shame or doubt. It feels uncomfortable to look at someone’s body so clearly. Novak, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind at all. There is a grin on his lips and his arms hang loosely along his body.

‘Now it’s my turn, turn around.’ I stare at him in amazement for a few seconds. Fear surges through my body again. His grin disappears for a moment and changes into a worried look.

‘If you don’t want it, you don’t have to,’ he reminds me. I shake my head and turn around anyway. I have nothing to hide, I tell myself.

Tense, I fold my hands together again, fiddling with my nails. I take a deep breath, hoping it will calm my nerves. I am startled as soon as I feel Novak’s hands on my shoulders.

‘Relax,’ he says softly. He places a gentle kiss at the beginning of my neck. Goose bumps start to form on my body and my hands grip tighter.

I can’t see what he’s doing, but from the slight tugging at my dress I can tell he’s untying the strings. He says nothing, I say nothing. The room is silent. My eyes have settled on one of the candles in the corner. The little yellow flame moves slowly back and forth. The sight allows my thoughts to wander and my nerves to subside a little.

As soon as the top of my dress begins to loosen, I push the piece of fabric closer to me with my hands. I feel like it will take hours for Novak to loosen the strings. It gives me time to think things through and I could swear he is taking longer on purpose.

I feel his hands leave my body and his warmth disappear against my back. For a moment, I stand with the dress in my hands. My grip is the only thing that keeps the fabric from falling to the ground. As Novak said, it’s nothing he hasn’t already seen from me. Yet it is different. Last time we were in a bed, both wrapped in blankets.

I take a deep breath, gather my courage and drop the dress on the floor. Without looking at Novak, I get out of the dress, dressed only in my lingerie. At first, I don’t dare look at him. I seem to have completely forgotten why I started this and what my purpose was.

I let my eyes glide along the room, remembering why I was doing this. My nerves have subsided somewhat, my heartbeat back to normal. Slowly I lift my head. God, you’re beautiful,′ he says as soon as our eyes meet. The blood rushes back to my cheeks and I immediately know no place for myself.

His hands grab me gently by my bare waist. His hands warm and soft against my skin. The calluses on his fingers are palpable. The warmth sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. He is the one who reunites our lips this time. This time, all my nerves seem to have vanished into thin air.

My lips slide automatically along his. His warm hands slide up my back to my shoulder blades. The warmth and touch are pleasant, gives me goose bumps and makes me unconsciously press myself closer to Novak, seeking more contact. The fine tingles shoot through my stomach like sparks.

He starts to gently push me backwards, towards the bed. That brings me back to my goal. I carefully detach myself from Novak as he slowly pushes me onto my back on the bed. I can’t and don’t dare take over anymore so I say the only thing that comes to mind.

‘I want you.’