Written in the Stars

by Alexandria Bellefleur

  Elle gripped her sleeve, rubbing the fabric between her fingers and her palm. “So. My room.”

  Darcy reached out and ran her hands up Elle’s arms, over her shoulders, until her fingers rested on either side of Elle’s neck. Beneath Darcy’s fingertips, Elle’s pulse pounded in an unmistakable display of nerves.

  Not just nerves. Elle wanted her so badly her fingertips pulsed with the need to touch Darcy, skin burning with the desire to be touched in turn, but she didn’t want to mess this up. This, whatever it was they were doing that Elle didn’t know for sure, didn’t want to risk asking because what if she didn’t like the answer and—

  “Hey.” Darcy’s thumb brushed along the underside of Elle’s jaw, a gentle graze that made Elle shiver. “What are you thinking?”

  What was she thinking? God, what wasn’t Elle thinking? A flurry of half-formed thoughts zipped through her mind. What she wanted, what she hoped . . . so much hope her bones ached, her body too small, almost bursting with holding it inside. Her skin was too tight, hot, itchy, and she wanted to strip it off, strip herself down, let Darcy see the full shape of her heart, messy and imperfect and with a space carved out, a space she’d been aching to fill for so long but no one ever fit, their angles too sharp, too rough, puzzle pieces never lining up right with hers. Elle had been waiting, waiting for the right person to come along who fit inside the space, that space inside her heart carved out just for them. For her person, not a perfect person, but a person perfect for her.

  A person she hoped just might be Darcy.

  Elle turned her head and brushed her lips along the inside of Darcy’s wrist. “You know, hoping I’m wearing cute underwear.”

  Laughter sputtered from Darcy’s mouth, warm and bright, replacing the anxious swirl in Elle’s stomach with a giddy sort of levity.

  “I should be the judge of that, don’t you think?” Hands still cupping Elle’s jaw, cradling her face with a delicacy no one had ever treated her with, Darcy leaned closer until their noses brushed once, twice—

  Patience wasn’t a virtue Elle possessed. Surging up on her toes, she pressed her lips fully against Darcy’s, smiling into the kiss, her stomach erupting in a kaleidoscope of butterflies when Darcy smiled, too.

  Hands sliding back to tangle in Elle’s hair, Darcy swept her tongue against the seam of Elle’s lips. Elle opened, moaning softly when Darcy flicked the tip of Elle’s tongue with hers, tasting, teasing.

  The kiss was dizzying, her knees going stupidly weak stupidly fast. Screw sports cars, Elle had zero to sixty down pat. Fingers knotting in the hem of Darcy’s cashmere sweater, Elle gripped her tight, swaying into her. She groaned when Darcy’s tongue traced the roof of her mouth, sending tingles down her spine, her nipples pebbling against the wool of her sweater.

  Gasping for air, Elle tore her mouth away and panted. “Can I take this off?”

  Elle already felt bare, stripped down to hope and bones and the pulse inside her veins, raw from sharing on the astronomy tower and inviting Darcy over. It was only fair to strip Darcy down a little, too.

  Darcy’s head bobbed as she lifted her arms into the air, letting Elle tug the sweater up and over her head.

  Gah. Darcy’s bra was black, all delicate, sheer lace and thin straps that contrasted heavenly against her peaches and cream skin. A flush worked its way up her chest, skin mottling in sunset shades of pink and red, dark orange freckles dotting the swells of her breasts. Elle bit down on a whimper and dropped the sweater to the floor, hands hanging limply at her sides.

  “Freckles and dimples and . . . damn it, Darcy.” Elle panted. “You’re so gorgeous you make my head hurt.”

  Her heart, too, in the best way. A good ache, the best ache. Anticipation married to a promise, satisfaction guaranteed, only a matter of time.

  Darcy threw her head back and laughed, the move highlighting the long, elegant line of her throat. More skin Elle wanted to trace, taste, freckles she wanted to connect in constellations she’d never get tired of exploring, the freckle beside Darcy’s mouth, Elle’s favorite, the one she’d always come back to. Her new North Star.

  “Dimples? They’re caused by having a shorter than normal zygomaticus major muscle. It’s a facial flaw.”

  Oh, please. “A sexy flaw.”

  Cheeks pink and eyes bright, Darcy reached one finger out, curling it beneath the low V-neck of Elle’s sweater. Her finger brushed Elle’s bare skin right over her heart. “Fair’s fair.”

  Elle reached for the hem of her sweater and yanked it over her head, freezing when the fabric snagged hard on her earring. Perfect. “Um. I’m stuck. Could you . . . ?”

  Hands reached up the neck of Elle’s troublesome fluffy sweater. Gently, Darcy freed Elle, then helped her tug the sweater the rest of the way over her head.

  Hair mussed and bangs falling in her eyes, Elle blinked, flushing hotter as Darcy’s eyes dipped, staring unapologetically.

  Pupils blown wide, Darcy lifted her eyes. Her tongue, bubblegum pink and just as sweet, darted out, licking her lips. “May I?”

  Yes, yes. A thousand times, yes. Elle nodded so fast her head spun.

  Fingers danced up Elle’s side, forcing her to bite back a giggle at the way it tickled, Darcy’s touch too soft. The laughter stuck in her throat, transforming into a moan when Darcy cupped the small, braless swell of her breast, her thumb sweeping against her nipple, featherlight.

  Her knees trembled and her back arched sharply into Darcy’s touch. Her brain forgot how to make words entirely when Darcy dropped her head, lips skimming the skin stretched over her collarbone, and lower, trailing down Elle’s chest, pressing wet kisses to her skin that led to the peak of her right breast. Darcy’s lips wrapped around Elle’s nipple, sucking gently, tugging with her teeth until Elle’s skin went taut, pebbling. Darcy drew back and blew, the sudden rush of cool air against Elle’s sensitive skin making her gasp and reach out, fingers tangling in Darcy’s red hair.

  One of Darcy’s hands slipped lower, slid beneath Elle’s skirt and between her thighs, cupping Elle over her leggings and damp underwear and pressing, rubbing with the heel of her hand, making Elle clench and mewl.

  Before Elle could get any real relief, Darcy straightened and walked them both backward until Elle’s knees hit the side of her unmade bed. Elle fell, bouncing against her mattress and sinking into the mess of soft blankets.

  Darcy tumbled down after her, hands braced on either side of Elle, bracketing her head. She skimmed her nose against Elle’s, breath fanning her mouth, making Elle’s tender, kiss-swollen lips tingle. Eyes dark and lids heavy, those long, enviable lashes that had first caught Elle’s eye on their disastrous blind date swept against the thin skin beneath Darcy’s eyes as she blinked, throat jerking as she swallowed.

  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been dying to taste you?” Rhetorical, it had to be, the way Darcy’s tongue darted out from between red lips turning the question into a confession. “It’s all I can think about. Tell me I can. Please.”

  Fingers twisting in the sheets beneath her, Elle arched her back, pushing up into Darcy. The ache between her thighs intensified. “Fuck. Yes.”

  A relieved sigh slipped from between Darcy’s lips as if she’d thought Elle might say no. As if there were a universe where Elle would ever tell her no.

  Darcy slipped lower, lips skimming the hollow of Elle’s throat, the space between her breasts, her hands ghosting over Elle’s ribs, down her waist, her hip, along the curve of her thigh, gooseflesh prickling in the wake of Darcy’s touch. Fingers tucking beneath the band of Elle’s skirt and the leggings underneath, Darcy tugged, yanking the fabric over Elle’s hips and thighs, down her calves and over her feet, her mismatched socks sliding off with them, inside out. Flung across the room and forgotten.

  Naked save for the bright blue lace boy shorts hugging her hips—not as sexy as that unfortunate pair she’d lost after their first date, but close—Elle tried not to squirm. The room was warm, but a shiver skit
tered down her spine at the look in Darcy’s eyes. A look that ignited a want inside Elle that made her dizzy with desperation even though she was lying down. “Darcy.”

  Blinking fast, Darcy leaned over Elle, lips trailing a hot path down her torso, tongue dipping inside Elle’s navel, making her squirm, hips dancing. Those kisses trailed lower, lips brushing the elastic band of Elle’s underwear, teeth snapping the fabric before her fingers dipped beneath the waistband, tucking and curling. “Okay?”

  Elle’s back bowed, hips arching off the bed in silent invitation. Silently pleading for Darcy to please get her naked and do dirty things to her, things that would leave her boneless and breathless and blissed out beyond belief.

  Taking the hint, Darcy inched Elle’s underwear over her ass and down her legs. She shimmied between Elle’s thighs, lowering herself to the bed, lying on her stomach against the mattress. Warm lips caressed Elle’s inner thigh, laying down teasing kisses, Darcy’s tongue darting out every so often to trace shapes on Elle’s skin. Darcy gently nipped the crease of Elle’s thigh, a pleasant sting that drew a needy whimper from Elle’s lips. One hand hooked Elle’s right knee over Darcy’s shoulder, spreading her legs, opening her wide.

  Elle held her breath, chest growing tight as Darcy’s breath ghosted over where Elle ached.

  “Oh my god.” Her neck arched against the bed at the first broad swipe of Darcy’s tongue against her.

  Darcy’s breath was hot, her lips even hotter as she kissed Elle, openmouthed and eager, her tongue sliding through Elle’s wetness, lapping at her entrance. Another desperate groan spilled from Elle’s lips when Darcy wiggled her tongue, slipping inside Elle, her hands reaching down to cup Elle’s ass, holding her to Darcy’s mouth.

  Elle scrunched her eyes shut, fingers clenching the sheets so hard she nearly tore them off the corner of the bed as Darcy licked a path from Elle’s entrance all the way to her clit, two slender fingers replacing her tongue. Elle was so slippery with arousal that those fingers sank inside with ease, curling, pressing hard against Elle’s front wall, making her thighs tremble and her tummy harden.

  In a blink of an eye, those clever fingers of Darcy’s slipped out of Elle, making her whimper at the loss. “God . . . I—”

  Darcy leaned up on one elbow and brought her hand to her mouth, plump red lips enveloping her glistening fingers. Her lashes fluttered, lids lowering on a moan before they flickered open. Intense, brown eyes stared up at Elle, Darcy’s lips curling in a devilish smile around her digits, a smile that made everything south of Elle’s navel go painfully tight.

  Slick with spit, Darcy slipped her fingers back inside Elle, adding another, Elle’s walls gripping Darcy tightly. Trembling, Elle’s back bowed, neck arching when Darcy splayed one hand against Elle’s belly holding her down as she lapped at her clit, soft licks interspersed with openmouthed kisses.

  Letting go of the sheets, Elle threaded the fingers of her right hand in Darcy’s silky-soft hair. On a whim, she glanced down, breath catching in her throat at the sight of Darcy’s brown eyes locked on her face.

  Between that stare and the perfect feel of Darcy’s mouth, Elle tipped over the edge, back bowing against the mattress, one hand clutching Darcy’s head to her sex, the muscles in her thighs shaking as she came apart in slow, trembling convulsions that stole the breath from her lungs and made her chest burn.

  A weak whimper fell from Elle’s lips as she tugged even more weakly at Darcy’s hair. Fingers pressing firmer than before, Darcy didn’t back off, didn’t let up even when Elle thrashed against the covers, just this side of too sensitive. Elle had barely recovered from her first orgasm when Darcy wrenched another from her, teeth scraping gently against Elle’s sensitive clit.

  An explosion of color flared against the black of her vision, a supernova bursting behind closed lids. Her back arched, a cry spilling from her lips, loud and unrestrained, nearly sobbing as Darcy licked her through it, the hand holding her down gently stroking the sweat-slick skin of her stomach.

  Fingers untwining from Darcy’s hair, Elle let her hand flop down against the bed. Darcy pressed a kiss in parting to Elle’s clit and sat back on her haunches, a grin curling her mouth, lips shiny and chin wet, those dark eyes of her gleaming.

  Fuck. Elle stared up at the ceiling, at where the stars stuck to her ceiling shone weakly, pale green light competing with the strands of fairy lights illuminating the room in a dim champagne glow. Her heartbeat slowed to something approaching normal, as her brain returned to her body, no longer rocketed to somewhere outside the stratosphere.

  Darcy prowled up Elle’s body, all lean muscles and mouthwatering curves. She was still only half naked, though the flimsy lace bra she wore did a poor job of concealing much of anything, the taut pucker of her dusky pink nipples visible beneath. Leaning over Elle, hands braced on either side of her head, Darcy dropped, nose nudging Elle’s. “Good?”

  Boneless and muscles composed of jelly, all Elle could manage was a weak laugh.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Darcy grazed her nose against Elle’s, lips brushing. Elle parted hers lazily, letting Darcy slip her tongue inside Elle’s mouth. A moan slipped from her lips at the taste of herself on Darcy’s tongue, warm musk and salty, tangy sweetness. Fuck. Elle opened wider, hands clutching the back of Darcy’s neck, tugging her close, wanting another taste of herself on Darcy’s lips.

  Straddling Elle’s thigh, Darcy’s hips began to rock, riding her desperately.

  Elle slid her fingers down the gentle curve of Darcy’s stomach to pop the button on her jeans. The sound of the zipper lowering was loud in the otherwise silent room, but nothing compared to the gasp Darcy made when Elle slipped her fingers inside Darcy’s undone jeans, fingers rubbing Darcy’s clit through her underwear.

  “Shit,” Darcy swore, scrambling backward and tearing the denim down her thighs.

  Of course, her underwear matched. Crisp black lines curved around her hips, a triangle of barely there lace covering her core, red curls trimmed neat beneath.

  Elle’s heart skipped several beats before crashing against her sternum. “Come here,” she whispered, hands reaching for Darcy.

  Darcy crawled back up the bed, legs straddling Elle’s hips. Her hair spilled over one shoulder and down her back in a cascade of copper curls that Elle wanted to sink her hands into, so she did. Short nails scraping against Darcy’s scalp, she drew her closer, close enough to kiss.

  The hand not tangled in Darcy’s hair slipped down her side, tracing the sinful curve of her waist and paving a path lower, fingers plucking at the thin band of Darcy’s underwear, snapping it gently against her skin.

  Hips circling, Darcy groaned into Elle’s mouth, rocking against Elle’s thigh.

  Taking the hint, Elle slipped her fingers beneath the crotch of Darcy underwear and ran her finger along Darcy’s slit. Sinking two fingers inside, Elle let her thumb brush against Darcy’s swollen clit, lips curling in satisfaction when Darcy whimpered against Elle’s mouth and circled her hips.

  “Harder,” Darcy whispered against Elle’s lips. “Please.”

  Elle crooked her fingers, applying more pressure to the raised patch of nerves inside Darcy’s slick heat, and thumbed her clit faster. “Like this?”

  Darcy threw her head back, long hair tickling the tops of Elle’s thighs as she straightened, riding Elle’s hand. It gave Elle a perfect view of where her fingers disappeared, sinking inside Darcy’s tight, wet heat. Shiny arousal slid down the back of her hand as Darcy rose and fell, fucking herself on Elle’s fingers, starting slow and moving fast, desperate, soft cries spilling from Darcy’s lips as Elle moved her thumb faster, harder, determined to make Darcy come as hard as she’d made Elle.

  Gorgeous, Darcy was so unbelievably gorgeous. Sweat broke out along her neck and the space between her breasts. Leaning up on her left elbow, Elle tugged at the cup of Darcy’s bra until it slipped, and closed her lips around Darcy’s nipple, sucking hard, teeth grazing the pebbled flesh an
d making Darcy keen, thighs shaking as she came hard around Elle’s fingers.

  Stroking her through the aftershocks, Elle tried to gauge whether Darcy could keep going, whether she wanted Elle to get her off again. When Darcy reached a hand down, weakly pressing at Elle’s wrist, Elle stopped, fingers sliding out of Darcy and splaying limply on the bed beside her.

  Darcy rolled to the side, collapsing against the mattress, chest heaving, her legs tangled up with Elle’s. Her skin was flushed, her bra and panties askew, and a slight sheen of sweat covered her skin from her hairline all the way down to her navel, which rose and fell, jumping in time with her pulse.

  Elle licked her lips, suddenly parched. Reaching over to her nightstand, she unscrewed the lid on her bottle of water and drank deep, gasping lightly after she finished. Pivoting, she turned, bottle in hand, and stared at Darcy’s wrecked form.

  Hair sticking to her forehead and splayed against the pillow in a fiery halo, Darcy panted lightly, chest heaving and air whistling from between shiny red lips. Debauched, Darcy looked like Elle felt—a beautiful mess.

  “You want some?” Elle swung the bottle by its neck, biting the inside of her cheek when Darcy snatched it and arched up, throat working as she chugged deeply until not even a drop remained.

  “Sorry.” Darcy laughed, collapsing back against the pillows. “If you wanted more of that.”

  Not a big deal. Elle tossed the bottle back on the nightstand where it rolled, landing against the floor. She’d pick it up later.

  With a sigh, Elle lowered herself back down to the bed, muscles finally sinking into the mattress as she gave herself permission to go from person to amorphous puddle of goo. Or she did once she flipped over to her side, facing Darcy, who appeared to have finally caught her breath.

  Reaching out, Elle rested a jittery hand on the dip of Darcy’s waist and waited for her to roll away or say something that would cement the fact that Elle was never this lucky. But that didn’t happen. Elle waited another beat for good measure, then paved a path from Darcy’s ribs down to her hip, delighting in the way her clumsy touch managed to make Darcy shiver and burrow closer.