Victor: Her Ruthless Crush Theodora Taylor (fantasy books to read TXT) 📖

“I promise,” I signed in CSL. Like I was making a vow. The sign for PROMISE slid off my fingers. Easily.

Then I added, “My words don’t cheat,” remembering how he used those signs to sub in for “I swear” the night of our first kiss.

“It did hurt,” I admitted, still signing. “But it feels better now.”

Totally true. A combination of him taking a beat to check in with me and the memories of the first time we kissed had me feeling a lot more comfortable. My core tightened around his staff, like a hug.

A hug that wanted more.

He pulled me in close. And somehow, no words were needed after that. We instinctively started moving together. Finding a natural rhythm.

Before that moment, it wouldn’t have occurred to me to do anything but lie on my back like I’d seen in most movie depictions of first sex. But being on top was so much more comfortable. I loved the scrape of his skin against mine as we moved together. The way his invasion seemed to lay claim to my most secret place, filling me up.

A weird sensation began to rise inside of me. A bloom of beautiful color filling in a black and white sketch. I’d wanted to do this silently. It had seemed right somehow to match him in his muteness. But the unexpected burst of pleasure pulled his name from my mouth.

“Victor! Victor!” I cried out, my voice full of helpless wonder as I orgasmed for the first time ever with another person.

His pace had stayed slow and steady during the duration of our sex. I didn’t realize he’d been holding himself back until he began pumping so much faster inside me when I started to come. He gripped me tightly, his mouth in my neck as he frantically thrusted.

Then, without warning, I felt a strange vibration in my neck, accompanied by a loud bellow. “Awnnnn! Awnnn! Ahovoo! Ahovoo”

It sounded like an animal, but it was Victor, I realized.

Victor using the voice I’d never heard before to call out my name. Victor speaking my language to tell me he loved me as he released into the condom.

“I love you, too!” I murmured into his ear, over and over again, until he was done.

So no izakaya for us.

Victor lifted me off of him as easy as if I was one of the lighter weights in his gym. And I sank bonelessly down to his pillow as he rolled to the side of the mattress to dispose of the condom.

He slid the covers over us a few moments later.

“Are you O-K?” he signed.

“I’m great!” I signed back, putting all the emphasis I could on my “great.” Then because I needed him to know he was the most amazing boyfriend ever, I added, “Sex with you was great!”

I’d hated how direct I had to be before. But the way he grinned back at me made me happy that sign language forces you to name some things exactly that you’d keep vague if you were just speaking.

A moment passed between us, the warm aftermath of what we did buzzing in the background.

Then he furrowed his brow and signed, “Did you truly think I didn’t want to have sex with you? Are you crazy?”

I laughed at his teasing question. “I have self-esteem issues. You know that.”

“Why?” he asked, looking utterly baffled. “You’re pretty and smart and talented. You agreeing to be my girlfriend was my luckiest day.”

His sincere confusion gave me all the gooey feelings. Could he be more romantic?

I found myself matching his truth. “You’re beautiful and smart and talented too. You asking me to be your girlfriend was my luckiest day.”

He grinned, and he pulled me into his arms. “We agree.”

I nodded against his chest with a giggle. “Yup.”

No more talking after that. We silently agreed to bask in the glory of what we’d just done.

And all I wanted in the world was to stay that way forever.

15

We basked in the afterglow of our lovemaking a little too long. Actually, a lot too long. When I woke up, it was dark outside. Not good, considering that sunset these days wasn't until after six.

Cursing, I rolled out of bed and scrabbled around for my clothes. It was too dark to see, even with Tokyo lit up beyond the picture windows in Victor’s bedroom. And I couldn’t figure out where the closest lamp was.

A small click sounded underneath all my shuffling, followed by enough light for me to spy my uniform lying on the floor at the bottom of Victor's low bed.

Also, Victor himself. He sat up, the soft white sheet slipping down to his waist. My face heated with memories of how I’d stared at what was hidden by the covers earlier.

“Where are you going?” he asked. He looked worried.

“I'm late!” I couldn’t sign because my hands were too busy putting back on my school uniform. “I'm late getting home from ‘art club.’ Late for dinner with my family. Late for everything. My parents are going to kill me!”

A sympathetic look replaced the worried one. “I have my meeting tonight. But I'll have Donny drive you home.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that earlier,” I answered, picking up my backpack. “What kind of high schooler has meetings at night, anyway—you know what, I don't have time to hear that answer. Main point, showing up in a Bentley would only make things worse.”

He frowned. “Donny can drive you to your station then. I don't like the idea of you walking alone at night.”

“This is Tokyo, not New Jersey,” I answered. “Plus, it’s rush hour. The train is probably faster. Sorry, I don't have time to argue with you about this. I’ve got to go!”

I think he was signing something else to me, but I was in such a rush, I didn’t see it.

I ran out of the room, past Donny standing outside the front door, and all the way to the station.

I suspected from the way the other passengers