Forbidden

He strokes my breasts with quivering fingers, circling my nipples, sending nervous shivers of excitement through me. Eyes fixed, brow narrowed in concentration, he seems to be holding his breath. Then, suddenly he emits a small sound, the air exiting his lungs in a rush. Tentatively I reach for the bottom of his T-shirt. When he doesn’t protest, I pull it gently up and over his head. As he reappears, hair ruffled, he brushes his fingertips across my skin, kissing my breasts. I un-button his jeans and he inhales sharply, his body immediately contracting beneath my touch. His breath is hot, fast and damp against my cheek and he reaches for my mouth, kissing me harder still. As he draws me towards him, a strong tremor runs through his body and into mine. His arms tightly encircle me, and the warmth of his chest pressed against me makes me gasp. He is kissing my neck, my shoulders, my nipples, breaking off to take in small gulps of air, his hands on my breasts, my stomach, inside my knickers, pushing them down my legs. I slide them off and step out of them, then reach for his boxers and pull them down. He kicks them from around his ankles and then we are standing together, naked together for the first time in the bright light of day.

How amazing to be together like this with the door open, the window open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze! The rain clouds have passed and the sun has come out and everything in my room seems white and bright. Lochan reaches instinctively for the door handle, and then stops himself, laughing. And suddenly it’s as if all the laughter and happiness in the world is right here, right here between us in this room. Our love, our first taste of freedom – even the sun seems to be beaming down its approval – and I finally feel that everything between us is going to be all right. We won’t have to hide for ever: people will accept, people will have to accept. When they see how much we love each other, when they realize we were always destined to be together, when they understand how happy we are – how could they possibly reject us? All our struggles were so we could reach this point, this exquisite moment – finally holding each other, touching each other, kissing each other without fear of being caught, without guilt or shame – sharing our bodies, our beings, every part of our souls.

He follows me onto the bed, lying down beside me and continuing to kiss me, stroking my nipples with his fingertips, licking my neck. I touch his penis but he pulls my hand away, breathing hard.

‘Wait—’ He stares at me, his taut body thrumming against me like a live wire. ‘Maya, are – are you sure?’

I nod slowly, a touch of fear creeping into me. ‘Will it hurt?’

‘If it hurts, we’ll – we’ll just stop. All you have to do is say stop. I’ll be really careful, I will, I promise . . .’

I smile at the fervour in his voice. ‘It’s all right. I trust you, Lochie.’

‘But only if you’re sure . . .’ His hands are like vices round my wrists, still trying to prevent me from touching him.

I take a deep breath, as if preparing to launch myself into a void. ‘I’m sure.’

Our eyes lock together, sealing a silent agreement with our gaze, and in his face I see reflected my own fear and longing.

‘Did you remember to get some—?’

‘Yes.’ He raises himself quickly off the bed and disappears from the room.

Moments later, he returns with it in his hand. A panicky flutter rises in my chest. Without a word, Lochan sits down with his back to me and starts fiddling with the shiny purple wrapper. Lying against the pillows, I pull the duvet over me. My heart is slamming against my ribs. I can’t believe we’re actually going to do this. I watch the smooth, white curve of his spine, the sharp angles of his shoulder blades, his ribcage rapidly expanding and contracting, the muscles in his arms tightening as his hands fumble between his legs. I notice that he is trembling.

Finally he turns back towards me, his breathing shallow and rapid. I lean in for a kiss and we lie back down on the bed, his mouth fierce and urgent against mine. This time he is on top of me, propped up on his elbows, rubbing his face against my cheek. I run my hands up and down his stomach and feel him shudder. Tentatively I move my legs apart and draw up my knees. I feel it prod my thigh.

‘Further up,’ I whisper.

He has stopped kissing me now, his face inches above mine, concentration etched between his brows as he shifts slightly, trying to find the right place. After several near misses, he leans over to one side and reaches down to try and guide it in. His hand knocks against my leg. ‘Help me,’ he whispers.

I reach down and, after what seems an eternity, get it to the right place. I withdraw my hand and immediately feel myself tense. Lochan presses against me; I wince in anticipation: this is never going to fit. For a moment nothing happens. Then I feel him begin to push his way inside me.

I inhale sharply. Lochan’s face hovers above mine, staring down at me, his breath rapid and laboured. His eyes are wide, green irises flecked with blue. I can make out each individual eyelash, the cracks in his lips, the sweat beading on his forehead. And I can feel him inside me, his body trembling with the desire to go further.

‘Are you all right?’ he asks shakily.

I nod.

‘Can – can I keep going?’

Another nod. It hurts, but that’s not important right now. I want him, want to hold him, want to feel him inside me. He begins to push further. A sharp stab makes me flinch, but then suddenly he is all the way in. We are as close as two people can be. Two bodies, blended into one . . .

Lochan is still staring down at me, an urgent look in his eyes, emitting ragged little gasps. He begins to move slowly back and forth, his elbows sunk into the mattress, clutching at the sheet on either side of my head.

‘Kiss me,’ I breathe.

He lowers his face towards mine, lips brushing my cheek, my nose, then slowly making their way towards my mouth. He kisses me gently, very gently, breathing hard now. The pain between my legs starts to fade as he continues to move inside me, and I feel another sensation, one that makes my whole body quiver. I run the backs of my hands gently down his chest and stomach, into the depressions between his hips and then up the sides, urging him with my hands to move a little faster. He does, pressing his lips together and holding his breath, the flush on his face deepening, spreading down to his neck and across his chest. Sweat glistens on his forehead and cheeks, a small drop ru

‘It’s OK,’ I reassure him quickly.

‘I can’t—’ The words catch in his throat and I feel him tremble against me.

‘That’s OK!’

With a small gasp, his movements begin to quicken. ‘Sorry!’

I feel him twitch inside me, his pelvic bone digging into mine. Suddenly he seems locked in his own world. He closes his eyes and his jagged gasps tear at the air, his body growing tighter and tighter, his hands tearing at the sheets. Then, with a deep, sharp inhalation, he presses himself hard into me, again and again, shuddering violently with a series of small, wild sounds.

Once he is still, the full weight of his body presses down on me and he collapses against my neck. He is holding me very tightly, his arms pressing against mine, his fingers digging into my shoulders, his body still twitching. Exhaling slowly into the cool air of the room, I run my hand over his damp hair, across his neck and down his back, feeling his heart pound violently against my own. I kiss his shoulder, the only part of him I can reach, and stare up in astonishment at the familiar faded blue ceiling.