"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 hint of carefree lightness. A spark flares in her eyes, as if she has just discovered what true pleasure is.
I look at her, and warmth instantly fills my chest. Everything seems so simple and so real when I'm with her.
"I feel the same. And I've never had this much fun with anyone but you. It's not about where we are — it's about being with you. You were right. Before you, I didn't even know what fun really was," I admit, feeling my chest ignite with the fire of her presence. It's more than just fun. It's a sense of flight, of being high above the world, where everything feels vivid and alive.
Katrin pulls away from me, her movements so fluid I can't help but follow her every gesture. She shifts her position, sitting on my stomach, and I feel the weight of her settle over me — bringing something powerful and alive. She continues to run her palms across my chest, her touch so gentle and warm that I unconsciously hold my breath, savoring every second. She's so strong and passionate, and I can't help but admire her persistence and the way she makes every moment special.
"I told you, I always get what I want. I wanted you to have fun, and now you are," she says with a playful glint in her eye.
"You're right. It's impossible to get bored with you," I say, my gaze growing more intense. "Have you ever had… 'this' with other guys?"
"What do you mean by 'this'?" she teases, her lips playing in the shadows as her gaze burns hotter.
"You've definitely kissed someone before — I saw that," I say with a trace of jealousy in my voice. "I mean relationships. And sex."
"Yes, both. Does that bother you?" she asks, watching me carefully.
It does. I hate that she has those experiences before me. I want to be her first in everything, to leave my mark on her life. But the feeling stings, like a sharp prick in my chest.
"Yes," I admit, my voice laced with the pain I try to hide.
"What does it matter who I was with before, if I'm with you now? You'll never know who they were or what I did with them, so there's no point in thinking about it. Well, except for Dimka. But we only kissed, and you saw that. Nothing else happened between us," she says, her words both soothing and sharp.
Her reassurance helps, but the ache in my chest lingers. I feel her fingers glide across my skin, her hands wrapping around me like she's shielding me from the world. She's here — and that's all that matters.
Katrin's fingers trace over my nipples, sending jolts of electricity through me, stoking the fire within. My breath hitches, and all I can think about is her — fiery, intense, and all-consuming.
"I still can't believe you've never been with anyone," she whispers, her voice soft.
"You don't believe me?" I tilt my head slightly, my eyes full of gentle sincerity, hoping it might melt her rebellious heart.
"I believe every word you say," she says, a note of tenderness in her voice, as if afraid she might accidentally hurt me.
"It's just… you're so handsome, even if you dressed like a nerd before. But honestly, that style suits you. You look confident and natural — don't change it, okay?"
"As you wish, my Rebel Girl," I lean back, my eyes glinting in the shadows, my voice laced with playful affection, as if I've finally found my home in her words.
She laughs, and her laughter is like music — free, light, as though she has shed all her burdens and finally allows herself to be herself.
"I'm curious to see how our two weeks will end. Will you run away from me like from fire after Friday?"
"You still haven't told me what awaits me on Friday," she says lightly reproachfully. I want to know what mystery she has prepared, but Katrin, as always, leaves me in the dark.
"It will be very emotional and intense. But I'm still not sure if you'll like it."
"You've 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 her waist, sometimes lowering them to her knees, slowly, trying to savor every moment, every second. The girl shudders but doesn't pull away, and I feel her breath become erratic.
"Will there be other guys?"
I don't want to see her friends touching her. The thought that someone might touch Katrin makes me nervous. Even simple hugs have become something intimate for me. I don't want to share her with anyone, for someone else to touch her like I do. It's all mine, only mine.
"Yes. But they definitely won't matter to me, if that's what you're asking."
"Acquaintances?" I ask again, trying to decipher what lies behind these words. There's 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. A lot of people know me, and of course, there's a chance we'll run into my acquaintances. But that shouldn't worry you. Everyone knows I'm not in a relationship, and I'm not planning to be. But they also know I won't tolerate rude behavior toward me."
"Someone's already treated you rudely, and they might do it again. No matter how proud and confident you are, you know yourself that against a man, especially if he's drunk, you're unlikely to resist."
I notice how her face tenses, her eyes darken like an abyss, but she doesn't answer. Her lips press into a line, but she doesn't say anything. Only her gaze turns distant. I can't shake the feeling that her stare pierces through me.
"I know, and are you suggesting I stay home because I could be raped? Is that what you're saying?" Her voice holds not only offense but also an attempt to regain control.
The girl looks at me, her eyes flickering between anger and despair. Her tone tells me 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 an emptiness. She can't take it anymore; it's too painful, but in her silence, I understand she 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 there. That thought drives me mad."
I feel pain and fear clenching in my chest. The thought that something terrible might happen to her is worse than any nightmare.
Rebel Girl doesn't answer right away, but sensing the depth of my words, she comes 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's a salvation for me. I could stay like that forever, but her words bring me back to reality.
"That won't happen."
"And if I hadn't come, what would've happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," the girl seems to try to hide from herself, not letting herself give in. "Let's go instead, let's swim again."
I nod silently. And all that's left is to try to believe that everything will be okay.
We get up, and I hug her, pressing her back to my chest. I feel her body relax, her breath become lighter, and her heart beat in rhythm with mine. Her skin is warm and smooth, and I know she feels every move of mine. But in that moment, it isn't just her closeness that worries me, but also what I have to say.
"Just promise me you'll be extra careful with other men," I feel my fingers tighten on her waist, a mix of fear and care overtaking me.
I let go of her, but I can't understand why she is still willing to take risks. Why doesn't she understand that I care? I don't understand her recklessness, this absurd desire for danger. Everything in 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 a kind of tender care, and I feel the warmth of her fingers.
"I promise. I'll be as careful as possible with other men. I trust only you. I know you're the only one who wouldn't hurt me and that you don't wish me any harm, otherwise, you wouldn't be so worried about me. But you have to 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 wraps her arms around my neck, and our kiss is slow but passionate. Her lips move in sync with mine, our breath quickening, and our bodies merging into one. We don't need words — everything is said through the sensations. Sometimes the kiss turns into a battle of desires, but in that, there is harmony. We don't think about tomorrow — in that moment, we are one, and that is enough.