Page 98 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
Skye peeled Celene’s hand off its place under the hem of her skirt and repositioned it further up, where she parted her legs. They both hissed when two of Celene’s fingertips prodded, specifically and infuriatingly, onto her panties, right at the fabric stuck to her opening. Skye let her hand go and slumped her arms over her head, onto the couch. It read, “take me” as clearly as fucking possible.
Celene’s quavering, drawn-out moan made Skye tremble like the leaves outside, stroked by the wind. And Celene’s eyes fluttered shut like she’d give in, until she growled, “More. I want you starving for me, at your limit. Absolutely out of your mind.”
Skye swore she must’ve been misread as her mind had been out of commission for at least fifteen minutes. Celene sat up before she could argue her case.
Straddling Skye, she tapped her chin in a coquettish turn, aware of her effect. “Now, what would turn you on more?”
“Could I handle more?” Skye asked and surely meant it.
“We’ll see.” Proving whatever inhabited her head correct, Celene shed her tank overhead, leaving a magnificent display of skin and abdominals more defined from her deep breaths. “What do you want from me first? My mouth, my fingers...” She bent downward, kissing lightly at the skin under Skye’s ear. “Or my pussy? Should I rub my pussy on yours?”
Skye swore she’d died. Her body went completely stiff for a few seconds.
Celene snaked a confident hand under Skye’s blouse, pushing a bra cup down. Gently squeezing, swearing huskily. “Do you have a preference, Skye?”
The hell, Skye didn’t have apreference. All her opinions had been depleted. If Celene suggested slathering Skye in almond butter and wrapping her in a human-sized tortilla, she’d orgasm through that. Struggling against her active imagination, she could only whimper.
“Permission to touch you?” Celene asked, a full-on tease. And at Skye’s ridiculously fervent nod, Celene grasped the hem of Skye’s skirt and pushed it inside-out above her hips. Nothing prepared either of them for what Skye bought with her in mind. Delicate bikinis in cherry, scant enough to leave no mystery to the skin underneath.
Regaining some traction here, Skye took Celene’s hand again to slip beneath the lace, upping the eroticism, seeing the motion through the material. When they stopped in Skye’s wetness, she didn’t let go this time. She guided Celene’s two longest fingers into her and gasped in a quivering near-finish.
Above Skye, Celene’s eyes rolled into a close as she held her place. A moment of connection. Of Skye removing her hand from herself to glide across Celene’s collarbone, to the slope of her neck, where she could feel a pulse drumming its approval.
The moment was a short one. Celene drew Skye into a blazing stare, expelling a moan, stark and unabashedly ravenous. Skye responded in sync, fiercely engaged and ready to be ravished. Rising for better leverage, Celene shifted into the lover Skye hadn’t realized she’d manifested until it happened.
Rafters above echoed Skye’s near howls as Celene plunged them into sex that had her grasping around Celene’s neck like a life preserver. To buoy herself while fumbling for purchase on the couch. The intoxicatingly tangy perfume, the tensing of Celene’s arm, the stickiness of what parts of their skin touched, the power over their speed, immersed in consuming, decadent pleasure. Like Skye had begged for a taste, and Celene emptied the whole bowl. Skye rolled her hips to meet every thrust, and instead of tiring, it amplified her craving.
She even shivered at the sounds, at the wet slapping that reverberated through her body. Nothing close to embarrassment sent Skye’s face aflame; she bucked through it, knowing it pleased a woman so skilled to make her drip down her thighs. Skye gulped from all the panting, then succumbed to a deep, branding kiss.
Blinking slowly, Celene murmured, “You’re otherworldly beautiful, Skye. God.”
The adoration, more than Skye bargained for. She loved it. “From the second you found my keys, I’ve wanted you.”
Celene shivered hard, biting her lip. Followed by the pressure of her thumb on Skye’s clit, and that shut down most faculties except anything lending to a hard, pulsating orgasm. And the reality of tightening around Celene’s fingers sharpened her gasps to a fever pitch, then in slow, awe-stricken purrs as they sailed through the come down.
Skye laid a hand to her own chest.
Oh, fuck, she’d ascended somehow.
Celene remained embedded. Moving slothishly, like she’d come, too. And she asked the unexpected. “Again?”
Skye blinked blankly, aghast, and answered, “God, yes.”
The slyest, sexiest smile spelled out Celene’s intentions as she sat up on her knees, insinuating Skye’s hips onto her lap. Celene took a moment to detach the panties to hang off one leg, then her fingers reanimated, hitting a different angle. Prone and glad about it, Skye yielded all her pleasure to Celene. Ardor high, throat raw, responsive to her girlfriend gasping, telling her to contract around her again.
So, she did.
24
If Celene expected Skye to withstand the remainder of their evening, she’d pace their sex.
However, witnessing that gorgeous woman grasp at her own tousled hair, singing her praises in the form of colorfully indulgent moans while clinging around Celene’s fingers in erratic beats, this was a difficult feat.
For the sensation itself, Celene slicked her fingers until they were almost out, then dipped in, smiling. “More?”
Skye covered her eyes with a hand, grinning. “Are you serious?”
“I haven’t tasted you yet.”
