US
700 Words
Chapter Nine:
A few weeks passed, and what began as secret glances and accidental touches had quietly bloomed into something more. Something that felt too big to name, and too fragile to say out loud.
Micah and I were... us.
We didn’t label it. We didn’t flaunt it.
But in hidden messages, long phone calls, and lingering kisses behind office doors, it was real.
Especially when no one was watching especially when his mother wasn’t around.
Mrs. Langston didn’t know. And if she ever did, I wasn’t sure what would happen. So, we stayed hidden. Carefully tucked between silence and stolen moments.
---
After dinner, we took a long walk under silver skies. The city was quiet, unusually still, like it was holding its breath for us.
Then the rain came.
Fast. Loud. Relentless.
Micah grabbed my hand and pulled me into a run, both of us laughing breathlessly as the storm soaked through our clothes. By the time we reached his apartment, we were drenched—skin clinging to wet fabric, hair dripping down flushed faces.
The door closed behind us, and everything shifted.
He looked at me like he’d been waiting to be alone with me all night. And I? I couldn’t think. I could only feel every nerve in my body alive under his gaze.
---
His kiss was warm, grounding, and yet it set my whole body on fire. We barely made it to the bedroom, our wet clothes leaving a trail behind us. His jacket hit the floor. My dress followed.
His hands were everywhere—careful, patient, reverent. He touched me like I was something to be memorized.
When his fingers brushed against the clasp of my bra, he paused. “Okay?”
I nodded, cheeks warm. “Yes.”
He undressed me slowly. Gently. And when I stood before him in just my underwear, trembling but sure, he reached out, tracing a path down my side with the back of his hand.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered.
---
We slipped into the bed, his lips meeting mine again, bodies pressed close.
When he finally moved above me, breath heavy, eyes searching mine, he asked one last time, “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure,” I whispered.
He kissed me deeply, grounding us both in that decision. My fingers clung to his shoulders, legs wrapped around him. Every inch of my skin buzzed under his touch.
And when he slowly entered me, my breath caught tight and unfamiliar.
He froze.
His eyes widened slightly, voice barely a whisper. “Rina… are you…?”
I looked away, cheeks burning.
He gently turned my face back to his, fingertips soft against my jaw.
“Hey,” he murmured, his gaze locking with mine. “You’re a virgin?”
I nodded slowly, lips parted, heart racing.
A soft breath escaped his lips. Then he smiled slow, deep, tender.
“You’re all mine now,” he said, voice husky and raw. “I’ll take care of you.”
And he did.
---
The rhythm started slow—deep and gentle. He kissed every inch of my skin like it mattered. He whispered things into my neck I barely heard, but felt.
The pain dulled under his touch, fading into warmth… into want… into us.
And as we moved together—like we’d been made for each other—I stopped thinking altogether.
I just felt.
Him.
Me.
The rain outside.
The ache.
The sweetness.
The release.
All of it.
---
Later, we lay tangled in the quiet, the storm now distant, just a hush against the windows.
Micah brushed damp strands from my face and kissed my forehead softly.
“Still okay?” he asked.
“More than okay,” I whispered, breathless and full.
His thumb stroked my cheek. “You have no idea what you do to me, Rina.”
I smiled faintly, heart still pounding. “I think I’m starting to.”
He chuckled, pulled me into his arms, and for the first time in my life…
I didn’t feel like I’d given something away.
I felt like I’d been claimed. Completely.
And I didn’t want it to end.
- Writer
