her. “Somehow I feel more at peace with myself.”
“I know what you mean,” Matilda agreed. “Everything seems so clear.”
“You’re the only one I would want to share it with,” Damian said. “Something about you makes me want to be near you. I couldn’t get you out of my head at all. That’s not usual for me.”
“I couldn’t get you out of my head either,” Matilda confessed, feeling self-conscious as she said it. A tiny part of her half expected to laugh in her face and say “Just kidding!”, but he looked down at her with an expression on his face which made her truly believe that he was sincere.
“That’s good,” Damian gave her a warm smile which made her toes curl up with happiness. “I’ve been thinking about your smile, and the way you look down and blush whe never I give you a compliment — it’s adorable. And I can’t forget how fucking beautiful you are when I’m inside you.”
Dropping the oars, Damian leant over and kissed her, pouring all his desire into the one kiss, so that Matilda felt that all the breath had suddenly been sucked out of her lungs. She let his body guide hers, let it wash over her, and surrendered herself to the passion of the night. After all, why not? It was just the two of them, under the soft silvery light of the moon.
-
“Damian…,” Sylvie said thoughtfully into Matilda’s ear as she sat compiling data in the archives.
“What?” Matilda sat up, alarmed, wondering if her thoughts had somehow been projected onto the screen in front of her. She looked around at Sylvie grinning like a fat spider who has just discovered a treasure trove of juicy flies.
“So that’s his name, h mm? You doodled it in the corner of the notes you left on your desk.”
“Oh, did I?” Matilda blushed at her blunder. She was still such a schoolgirl!
“Not to worry, I won’t tell a soul — who is he?” Sylvie asked, her face full of lively curiosity.
“He’s… just some guy I have a crush on,” Matilda lied. Although she liked Sylvie, a lifetime of experience had taught her never to fully trust someone with her secrets. The less people knew about her, the less information could leak out to the media.
“Oh really? You’re glowing like that just over a little, unrequited crush?” Sylvie teased.
“I’m not glowing, am I?” Matilda wondered. When she looked in the mirror, she saw the same pale face and dark hair, the same wide, innocent green eyes, despairing over how boring she looked compared to some of the golden, glamorous girls Damian must have met in his travels. She looked young and plain.
“Like a beacon,” Sylvie confirmed. “I’ve honestly never seen anyone so happy in this archive in my life. It’s usually full of dry old men and women who haven’t so much as thought about sex in a decade , let alone had any.”
Matilda reflected over the last week, during which she had seen Damian every night. They had talked, laughed, made love over and over, and she still couldn’t seem to get enough of him. He was under her skin, filling her mind and overflowing into every aspect of her life. There was barely a second where she wasn’t picturing his face or lingering over a conversation they had been having the night before. Even when she slept, all she dreamt of was Damian, his gentle, warm voice, his never-ending resources for new and exciting places to show her around the city, and his strong arms encircling her.
“Hello? Earth to Matilda?” Sylvie tried, waving her hand in front of Matilda’s face.
“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry.” Matilda realized she had sunk into a daydream. Discreetly checking for drool (she had been pondering Damian’s razor sharp abs) she tried to look composed and professional.
“Well, damn,” Sylvie said, looking faintly envious. “If that’s not love, I’ve never seen it. I remember the first time I met my husband — fat and balding now, I’ll grant you, but back in the day he had a butt I could have eaten my
“I know what you mean,” Matilda agreed. “Everything seems so clear.”
“You’re the only one I would want to share it with,” Damian said. “Something about you makes me want to be near you. I couldn’t get you out of my head at all. That’s not usual for me.”
“I couldn’t get you out of my head either,” Matilda confessed, feeling self-conscious as she said it. A tiny part of her half expected to laugh in her face and say “Just kidding!”, but he looked down at her with an expression on his face which made her truly believe that he was sincere.
“That’s good,” Damian gave her a warm smile which made her toes curl up with happiness. “I’ve been thinking about your smile, and the way you look down and blush whe never I give you a compliment — it’s adorable. And I can’t forget how fucking beautiful you are when I’m inside you.”
Dropping the oars, Damian leant over and kissed her, pouring all his desire into the one kiss, so that Matilda felt that all the breath had suddenly been sucked out of her lungs. She let his body guide hers, let it wash over her, and surrendered herself to the passion of the night. After all, why not? It was just the two of them, under the soft silvery light of the moon.
-
“Damian…,” Sylvie said thoughtfully into Matilda’s ear as she sat compiling data in the archives.
“What?” Matilda sat up, alarmed, wondering if her thoughts had somehow been projected onto the screen in front of her. She looked around at Sylvie grinning like a fat spider who has just discovered a treasure trove of juicy flies.
“So that’s his name, h mm? You doodled it in the corner of the notes you left on your desk.”
“Oh, did I?” Matilda blushed at her blunder. She was still such a schoolgirl!
“Not to worry, I won’t tell a soul — who is he?” Sylvie asked, her face full of lively curiosity.
“He’s… just some guy I have a crush on,” Matilda lied. Although she liked Sylvie, a lifetime of experience had taught her never to fully trust someone with her secrets. The less people knew about her, the less information could leak out to the media.
“Oh really? You’re glowing like that just over a little, unrequited crush?” Sylvie teased.
“I’m not glowing, am I?” Matilda wondered. When she looked in the mirror, she saw the same pale face and dark hair, the same wide, innocent green eyes, despairing over how boring she looked compared to some of the golden, glamorous girls Damian must have met in his travels. She looked young and plain.
“Like a beacon,” Sylvie confirmed. “I’ve honestly never seen anyone so happy in this archive in my life. It’s usually full of dry old men and women who haven’t so much as thought about sex in a decade , let alone had any.”
Matilda reflected over the last week, during which she had seen Damian every night. They had talked, laughed, made love over and over, and she still couldn’t seem to get enough of him. He was under her skin, filling her mind and overflowing into every aspect of her life. There was barely a second where she wasn’t picturing his face or lingering over a conversation they had been having the night before. Even when she slept, all she dreamt of was Damian, his gentle, warm voice, his never-ending resources for new and exciting places to show her around the city, and his strong arms encircling her.
“Hello? Earth to Matilda?” Sylvie tried, waving her hand in front of Matilda’s face.
“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry.” Matilda realized she had sunk into a daydream. Discreetly checking for drool (she had been pondering Damian’s razor sharp abs) she tried to look composed and professional.
“Well, damn,” Sylvie said, looking faintly envious. “If that’s not love, I’ve never seen it. I remember the first time I met my husband — fat and balding now, I’ll grant you, but back in the day he had a butt I could have eaten my
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