I Misread It
Clara squeezed her small hands tightly around the material of the jacket. Balling it in her fists, clenching so tight it almost hurt.
It was the only way to keep her hands in place.
Inside the fires were well stoked, a tightness in her stomach and a needful ache that had spread to every inch of her body.
Nessa’s lips were soft, and the pressure against Clara’s mouth was gentle while, at the same time, hungry. Although their kisses had become daily, they never lasted long, a minute at most. Still, it was the most incredible minute of her life.
The daily ‘practice’ was helping Nessa become more comfortable with physical contact. They had even begun to hold hands every once in a while.
It was slow, and after each session, Clara was left feeling hot and bothered. But even still, she cherished every damn second of these moments together.