"I feel so good. I've never felt this good with anyone else," my Rebel Girl breaks the silence, her voice trembling with happiness and a slight carefreeness.
A spark flares in her eyes, as if she is realizing for the first time what true pleasure is.
I look at her, and my chest instantly grows warm. Everything seems so simple and so real when I am with her.
"Me too. And I've never had as much fun as I do with you. And it's not about where we are, but about the fact that I'm with you. You were right, before you I didn't even know what fun was," I feel everything in my chest ignite from her being near.
It's something more than just fun. It's the feeling of flight, when you are high up, and everything around seems vivid and alive.
Katrin pulls away from me, her body moving so fluidly that I can't help but follow her every gesture.
The girl decides to change her position, sitting on my stomach, and I feel how her weight presses on me, bringing with it something powerful and alive.
She continues, just as before, to stroke my chest with her palms, and her touch is so gentle and warm that I involuntarily hold my breath, catching every moment.
She is so strong and passionate that I can't help but admire her persistence and how she knows how to make every moment special.
"I told you that I always get what I want. I wanted you to have fun, and here you are, having fun."
"That's for sure. You never get bored with you," my gaze becomes more direct. "Have you had 'this' with other guys?"
"What do you mean by the word 'this'?" she starts flirting with me, her lips playing in the shadows, and her gaze becoming ever more ardent.
"You definitely had a kiss, I saw that," I say with a slight note of jealousy. "I'm talking about relationships and sex."
"Yes, both. You don't like that answer?" she waits for my reaction.
I really don't like that she had this before me; I want to be her first in everything, to leave my mark on her life, but this feeling is painful, like a prick.
"Yes," a hidden pain sounds in my voice, which I don't want to show her.
"What does it matter who I was with before you, if I'm with you now? You still won't know who it was and what I did with them, so there's no point in thinking about it. Well, okay, except for Dimka. And even then, we only had kisses, and you saw that. I didn't have anything else with him."
Her words are reassuring, but they don't take away the pain in my chest.
I feel her fingers sliding across my skin, and her hands wrapping around me, as if shielding me from the world. She is here, and that's the main thing.
Katrin runs her hand over my nipples, and her touch pierces through me, stoking the fire inside. My breathing falters, and in my head there is only her — passionate and hot, all-consuming.
"I still can't believe that you've never had anyone."
"You don't believe me?" I tilt my head slightly, and in my eyes there is a soft sincerity which, I hope, can melt her rebellious heart.
"I believe every word of yours," a note of care sounds in her voice, as if she's afraid she might hurt me with something unnecessary.
"It's just that you are a very handsome guy, even though you used to dress like a Nerd. This style really suits you. You look so confident and natural, don't change it, okay?"
"Whatever you say, my Rebel Girl," I lean back, my eyes glinting in the shadows, my voice becoming slightly more playful, but a certain attachment is felt in it, as if I'm finally finding my home in her words.
The girl laughs, and this laughter is like music — free, light, as if she is shedding all the tension and allowing herself to be herself.
"I wonder how our two weeks will end. Won't you run away from me like from a fire after Friday?"
"You still haven't told me what awaits me on Friday," it is a slight reproach.
I want to know what mystery she has prepared, but Katrin, as always, leaves me in the dark.
"It will be very emotional and vivid. But I'm still not sure if you'll like it."
"You have intrigued me," I can't resist and run my hands over her hips, feeling how her skin reacts to the touch.
I raise my palms sometimes higher, almost to the waist, sometimes lower them to the knees, slowly, trying to feel every moment, every second.
The girl shudders, but doesn't pull her hands away, and I feel her breathing become erratic.
"Will there be other guys?"
I don't want to see her friends who could touch her. The thoughts that someone will touch Katrin make me nervous.
Even simple hugs become something intimate for me. I don't want to share her with others, for someone to touch her like I do. All of this is mine, only mine.
"Yes. But they definitely won't care about me, if that's what you mean."
"Acquaintances?" I ask again, trying to decipher what is hidden behind these words.
There is something more in this question than just curiosity. I need to understand how confident she is that everything is under control.
"As you know, I'm a popular person. Many people know me, and, of course, there is a chance that we will meet my acquaintances.
But that shouldn't worry you. Everyone knows that I'm not in an official relationship and am not planning to be. But everyone also knows that I won't tolerate a boorish attitude toward myself."
"You've already been treated boorishly once, and they might do it again. No matter how proud and self-confident in your strength you are, you know yourself that against a man, especially if he is drunk, you are unlikely to hold your own."
I notice how her face tenses, her eyes become dark as an abyss, but she doesn't answer. Her lips press into a line, but she says nothing, only her gaze becomes detached.
I can't get rid of the thought that this gaze pierces me through.
"I know, and what, should I not leave the house now because I could be raped? Is that what you're suggesting?" in her voice, there is not only offense but also an attempt to regain control.
The girl looks at me, her eyes darting between anger and despair. Her intonation says that she feels vulnerable — Katrin is hurt.
I see her stand up and walk away without saying a word. The space between us becomes vast, like a void.
She can't stand it, it's too painful for her, but in her silence, I understand that she just doesn't want to show her weakness.
"I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just worried. You could be hurt, and I might not be around. This thought drives me mad."
I feel pain and fear clench in my chest. The thought that something terrible could happen to her is worse than any nightmare.
Rebel Girl doesn't answer right away, but, sensing the depth of my words, she comes over to me and lays her head on my shoulder. I feel her breath — hot and heavy.
She hugs me around the waist, and I feel her body relax. It is salvation for me. I could sit like this forever, but her words bring me back to reality.
"That won't happen."
"And if I hadn't come, what would have happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," the girl seems to be trying to hide from herself, to keep from giving in. "Let's go take another swim instead."
I nod silently. And all that's left is to try to believe that everything will be okay.
We stand up, and I hug her, pressing her back to my chest. I feel her body relax, her breathing become lighter, and her heart beating in time with mine.
Her skin is warm and smooth, and I know that she feels my every movement. But at this moment, I am worried not only by her closeness, but also by what I have to tell her.
"Just promise that you will be as careful as possible with other men," I feel my fingers tighten on her waist, as a mixed feeling of fear and care overtakes me.
I let her go, but I can't understand why she is ready to take risks again. Why doesn't she understand that I care?
I don't understand her carelessness, this absurd drive for risk. Everything inside me screams that it shouldn't be like this. Why can't she just be careful?
I see her turn to me, her eyes full of sincerity and pain. Her hands slowly rest on my face with some touching care, and I feel the warmth of her fingers.
"I promise. I will be as careful as possible with other men. I trust only you. I know that only you won't hurt me and that you don't wish me any harm, otherwise you wouldn't worry about me so much. But you understand me too."
"Alright."
I take her hand, and we step into the cold water. But her touch is warm, unbearably attractive.
I hug her around the waist, pulling her closer. She hugs me around the neck, and our kiss is slow but passionate.
Her lips move in sync with mine, our breathing becomes faster, and our bodies merge into a single whole.
We don't look for words — the sensations say everything. Sometimes the kiss turns into a battle of desires, but there is harmony in this.
We don't think about tomorrow — in this moment we are one, and that is enough.