us, behind me, gripping along the tightened muscles of her stomach until I found the treasure I’d been seeking, the fine, light hairs of her amazing cunt, the hard prominence that spoke of her desire, and I gratefully slipped my fingers between her wet lips, never more at home than I was when I was there, stroking the length of her, waiting to enter.
Samantha gasped and tore her mouth from mine. “I love you, Nina,” she breathed into my ear, then treated me to the most amazing sight I’d ever seen.
Her head arced over me to meet Kitt’s and she kissed her. It was heart-piercingly beautiful, the way their lips met and moved together; I was filled with an awestruck joy at their joined perfection. I had never felt so completely safe in my life.
My lion pressed harder against me, her hand gripping insistently as Samantha’s hand scratched lightly down between us until she cupped my pussy in her hand, squeezing, teasing, promising…everything. Her hips surged behind me.
Ah, but my beloved Samantha was gorgeously wet, and when Kitt gently pushed me so that I was almost half on top of Samantha, my fingers found their mark and I slid into her cunt, tucking my thumb under my palm so I could play with her clit.
Samantha bit my neck as Kitt crawled down my body, nipping with her lips, light little licks with the tip of her tongue, memory and experience merging as she mapped me. She stopped and kissed Samantha’s hand as it lay on me, then parted my lips with her tongue.
“Oh God, Kitt…” I gasped as she sucked me into her and grabbed my free hand, twining her fingers with mine as I curled my other hand deeper into Samantha, who shuddered behind me and slipped an arm around my chest, anchoring me to her. She laved my neck with open-mouth kisses, scraping her lips and tongue along the column of my neck.
“I adore you, I fucking adore you,” she ground out between sensual attacks and her cunt sucked my fingers, fitting on me as if I’d been made for her.
I cried out when Kitt’s tongue slid inside me, and Samantha crushed me to her, trapping me, holding me still when I tried to arch my back.
“I got you…” she assured me and her fingers slipped around my clit while Kitt’s mouth worked me relentlessly, driving me on and up. Her free hand wrapped loosely around the hand that drove into Samantha, moving with me, around me, a light tickle that urged me on, harder, faster.
Samantha shifted, sliding her leg across mine, trapping it between hers, opening herself further to me, spreading me wider, and pushing my thigh against my hand, my thrust in her that much harder as I moved under Kitt.
“Damn, I love you, Samantha,” I whispered, craning desperately to kiss her as the two most beautiful women I would ever know or be this close to in this lifetime loved me and each other, pushing me to the edge, the power behind this building, towering over me.
Her lips were instant relief to my thirsty soul. “I want you inside me,” I told her, “I want you both inside me.”
Kitt heard me and raised her head from me. I caught my breath, gulping at the loss, and Samantha responded instantly, sliding into me so I wouldn’t feel it for too long.
“Te adoro,” she whispered, speaking the language of my childhood as she moved gently within me and my cunt slid along her length, welcoming her home to me, “te amo, te adoro.”
Kitt climbed up my body, straddling my leg, and her cunt was deliciously hot and wet as it slid along the hard muscle of my thigh.
Her perfect, perfect mouth kissed me and once again, for the last time, I enjoyed the taste of my cunt on her tongue.
“I love you, Francesca Kitt DiTomassa,” I told her, melting into her golden eyes. “I will always love you.”
I grasped her hip with my hand as she rode my thigh, her leg pressing between us, driving Samantha further into me. Kitt slipped her hand between us, cupping Samantha’s hand under hers, and I could feel her fingertips waiting to enter me.
“Baby,” she murmured, kissing me gently, “this is going to hurt you—I want to do what you want, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
She was right, I knew she was right, because even Samantha inside me hurt a bit.
“You are really tight, love,” Samantha whispered, then caught her breath when I shifted my hip slightly, causing my fingers to reach deeper. Her hips jerked against me and honestly, I couldn’t care less if my arm broke, I wanted this, wanted to be in her, wanted her to come.
Kitt leaned across me and kissed Samantha deeply as she shuddered against me, and my hand traveled from Kitt’s hip to her ass and I pressed my fingers along the length of her cunt. She groaned into Samantha’s mouth and I felt Samantha shiver as she tasted me for the first time on Kitt’s lips.
“Kitt, baby,” I rasped out, losing my voice, my breath, my mind between them, “I don’t care if it hurts, I want you.”
She buried her head into my neck, between me and Samantha.
“Okay…okay…” she groaned as I pushed her over the edge, slipping my fingers inside her, letting her crush down upon me.
I felt Samantha ease out of me a bit and then…God. The world was going to fall apart and take me with it because it hurt, it fucking hurt but it didn’t matter because it was so fucking intense, so fucking good it spiked through me, and trapped as I was between them, my body heaved anyway, light and pain and pleasure and God, if it only happened once in this life, then it was enough to remember it always, the sweat-slick intensity as Kitt’s head pushed into my shoulder and her free hand pulled, Samantha’s arm wrapped around me, fingers digging across my collarbone as I buried my face against her chest, her heart pounding into my ear, the straining, painful push of bone and muscle of my arm trapped to my side now so I could press my fingers into Samantha’s cunt, the bruising push of Kitt’s hip between my legs, driving, always driving their combined thrust while I loved her, deep and hard.
“God yesss…” Kitt hissed against my throat as she shifted on me, her pussy pulling and gliding and loving me. When she bit at the bone in my shoulder, the sensation sent a chill through me, and I heard Samantha’s breath catch as she surged against me.
My body relaxed, totally relaxed, and I felt their combined push become something deep and discrete—Kitt steady and deep, Samantha more of an urgent thrust in my cunt as she got ready to come—I could feel it, in her body, in mine.
I twisted my head and kissed the skin above her heart. “Come, love,” I begged her, “come deep.”
Her leg flexed over mine, pulled against me, and I could feel the tendons in my wrist strain between our bodies, the tension of her cunt an exquisite weight across my arm, the beloved absolute embrace of it almost blinding me as she took as much of me as she could within her and her painfully engorged clit pulsed under my thumb.
“Coming,” she gritted out, a desperate sound that slipped between her teeth, and her body waved as she again crushed me to her, kissing me desperately while she rode the tension out of herself and into me, forcing me to move against the twin pressures of them, creating a frantic need, a hunger that made my throat ache and made my hands move, almost frenzied as I plunged as far as I could into Kitt.
“Stop…baby, stop,” Samantha said. “Too much,” and she shifted slightly so I could ease my fingers from their home.
I won’t lie, my hand hurt from that position, and I slowly flexed it, then wrapped my fingers lightly around Samantha’s forearm, sliding down over her wrist, stopping only when my fingertips found Kitt’s hand crushed over hers.
Electric strings were racing out and under my skin, the arc starting from wherever I felt the raw intensity of my Samantha, the barely restrained fierceness of Kitt, and the rush was coming up and over me as Kitt let go of my shoulder. She reached for my face, brushing over my cheeks with her fingertips, tracing my lips until her thumb rested below my lip. She raised her head and kissed me, perfectly, the way only she could.
“Yours,” she whispered against my lips, and once again my beautiful Kitt broke and took me with her, my body soaring, my heart torn between love and grief because I knew
what she meant, what this was—this was good-bye—as her cunt held me as if she’d never let me go.
I moved the hand that had felt both of them moving within me to her spine to feel the flex of the muscles along her back, the blade as sharp as an angel’s wing, to trace the span of her shoulders one last time.
“My lion,” I whispered back to her, “the pride of my heart.” I kissed her with hopeless intensity and came, a sharp burst of pleasure and pain that pounded through me, tearing me, drenching me in love and sorrow.
Kitt eased slowly out of me and it was painful, both physically and emotionally. She pressed her fingers against my neck and rested the full weight of her body upon me, crying into my throat while Samantha murmured soothing little sounds into my ear and gentled my bruised and aching cunt.
I didn’t need to see Kitt’s or Samantha’s hands to know that I’d bled again—I’d felt the tear when they’d entered me, could smell the blood on Kitt’s hand.
When I moved my fingers to come out of her, she stopped me. “Please…stay,” she cried softly, “just a little longer.”
“Love you,” I murmured and stayed, content to feel her for as long as possible before even this, too, had to end, and I rubbed her back as she lay on top of me.
Samantha shifted, sliding her arm out from under me, and lifted herself up on one elbow. She kissed me tenderly, kissed the tears that ran hot and free from my eyes, and when she finally left my cunt she placed her hand over mine where it rested in Kitt.
I realized Samantha was crying too as she kissed Kitt’s cheek. “I love you,” she said softly to her, then kissed me again. “I adore you,” she whispered into my ear, then settled herself over me.
It was some time later, but not too long, when we shifted and resettled into each other and I let Kitt hold me as I’d never let her before—my head on her shoulder, my leg over her hip, and Samantha draped over my back, her arm reaching over me to hold my hand and Kitt’s, joined together, body and blood.
Executive Agenda
Radclyffe
Cynthia Wilson, juggling her purse, a briefcase, and a cardboard carryout container with two venti red-eyes and cinnamon scones, breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the door to the executive office was slightly ajar. She bumped it with her hip, thankful that she wouldn’t need to search for her keys with her third hand. Two seconds later, she regretted what had seemed like providence just an instant before. Two women were half sprawled on the shiny granite-topped reception desk, locked in a clinch that was well on its way toward a frantic consummation. Frozen in place, Cyn got a very clear view of the new secretary’s creamy thighs and a hand stroking emphatically beneath her pale blue silk panties. Cyn didn’t need more than a millisecond to register that the woman on top, who was obviously doing something very wonderful with her fingers if the secretary’s ecstatic cries were any indication, was Cyn’s boss, Rian James.
“Oh my God,” Cyn blurted before she could stop herself. Rian turned at the sound of Cyn’s voice, her arm still thrusting between the supine woman’s legs, a remote, almost disconnected, expression on her face. Cyn backed up directly into the door that had now closed automatically, as it undoubtedly was supposed to have done earlier, and dropped the coffee and scones onto the Glen Eden wool carpet. Mortified, she yanked open the door and fled. An ululating cry of rapturous release followed her down the hall.
The elevator ride from the twentieth floor to the lobby seemed endless, but once Cyn was outside, sheltered against the building and taking deep breaths of the crisp fall air, she quickly regained her normal composure. It wasn’t as if she had never seen Rian with a woman before. Her boss was a highly successful corporate headhunter as well as a prominent lesbian activist, and her popularity among women of all sexual persuasions was well known. At thirty-five and a confirmed “bachelor,” Rian James was considered one of the most eligible women in the country. No matter where she went, she was never without a beautiful woman on her arm.
“I’m sorry, Cyn,” Rian’s silky voice said from close by.
Cyn turned her head and found Rian leaning against the wall beside her, her dark brown eyes searching Cyn’s face with obvious concern. Cyn noticed that Rian’s chestnut hair was getting wild—the ends were straggling over her collar. She made a mental note to schedule an appointment for Rian with her hair stylist before the National Lesbian Health Organization’s benefit auction the following night.
“No,” Cyn said. “It was my fault. I didn’t expect you to be in quite so early.”
“I thought you had that meeting with the benefit organizers.” Rian shrugged and flashed her trademark grin, the one that always made her look so sexy in her promotional photos. “I…ah…just thought I’d get acquainted with the new secretary. Turned out a little differently than I expected.”
“Please, it’s not necessary for you to explain.”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Rian leaned close, so close their bodies touched. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course,” Cyn said briskly. “Well, I should go up. I need to get maintenance to take care of that spill on the carpet, and I want to double-check your itinerary for tomorrow evening.” Cyn eased around Rian, avoiding her eyes. She didn’t want her boss to know how much she wished it had been her beneath Rian just moments before, writhing from the pleasure of her touch. Two years. Two years she’d organized Rian’s schedule, planned her trips, seen that the clothes she needed for everything from boardroom showdowns to charity balls were clean and delivered on time, and on more than one occasion, arranged for Rian’s intimate needs—booking hotel suites, reserving private tables in exclusive restaurants, and even assuring that Rian had the appropriate female company when Rian didn’t have the time or the inclination to invite someone herself. As Rian’s admin, Cyn saw to all Rian’s needs, except the most important one.
Cyn strode through the reception area to the office that adjoined Rian’s, pretending she didn’t notice the smirk on the secretary’s face. The girl was attractive, but then so was Cyn. She wasn’t going to be disingenuous and pretend that she didn’t know women found her attractive. She was intelligent, and she had a nice body, good bones, and honey blond hair that she came by naturally. She had no trouble finding dates. In fact, the only woman who didn’t seem to show the slightest bit of sexual interest in her was Rian.
Cyn couldn’t help think of the secretary and her smug superiority. It was that smirk—that very satisfied smirk—that finally pushed Cyn over the edge. She threw her briefcase against the side of the desk and dropped into her chair with a low growl.
“Well, things are about to change.” Then she pulled up Rian’s schedule and reached for the phone.
*
Twelve hours later, Rian tapped on Cyn’s door and stuck her head in. “You about done?”
“Almost.” Cyn smiled pleasantly and turned back to the production sheets she’d been studying.
“Are you up for some dinner? I can call that little Italian place around the corner and see if they can take us on short notice.”
Cyn kept her face carefully expressionless. She couldn’t ever remember Rian making her own dinner reservations. She fibbed, “No thanks. I’ve got plans.”
“Oh. Okay, sure.”
When a few seconds passed, Cyn glanced toward the door. It seemed as if Rian was about to say something else, but then she just shook her head.
“Everything all set for tomorrow?” Rian asked.
“The limo will pick you up at your townhouse at six forty-five.”
Rian frowned. “Why so early? I don’t have to be there until nine.”
“They just added a VIP reception before the wine and cheese thing.”
“Hell. Now I’m going to have to spend an extra hour talking to people.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Do I have a date?”
“Of course. The limo will stop for her on the way to the benefit.”
“Anything I need t
o know?”
“Everything will be on the schedule in the limo. You can check it on the way. If I tell you now, you’ll forget her name.”
Rian grinned. “I’m not that bad.”
Cyn just smiled brightly, her attention still on her paperwork. “Have a good time.”
“Yeah, sure,” Rian said, puzzlement evident in her voice. Eventually, she drifted away.
*
At two minutes to seven, Cyn stepped out of her apartment building and nodded to the doorman, who stood beneath the awning in his braided uniform looking as if he were guarding Buckingham Palace. She’d use the limo service before and knew that they would be on time. She was more nervous than she had expected and mentally reviewed her appearance. Black vintage Dior dress, matching heels, and just enough loose curl in her hair to make her look wild. It all worked, she decided, and willed herself to relax. Just as she expected, at exactly 7 p.m. the gleaming typhoon limousine she’d ordered glided to the curb. A female chauffeur was opening the door before Cyn had time to cross the sidewalk.
“Madam,” the Lara Croft look-alike murmured as she held the door.
“Thank you,” Cyn said, holding out a single sheet of paper. “The new itinerary.”
“Very good, madam,” the chauffeur said smoothly, slipping the paper inside her uniform jacket.
Then Cyn was inside, sliding across smooth black leather until she was sitting next to an astonished Rian. She took in the interior of the luxurious space with its curved expanse of leather sofa along one side and the bar opposite, complete with crystal glasses, chilled champagne, and iced caviar centered on a silver tray holding a selection of thin crackers.
“This is nice,” Cyn observed. She smiled at Rian. “Did you open the champagne yet?”
“Cyn?” Rian’s gaze flickered down to Cyn’s breasts and she looked quickly away, as if caught in a guilty act. “I didn’t realize we were picking you up too.” She cleared her throat and shifted on the seat, uncharacteristically crossing and uncrossing her legs. “You look…terrific.”
Extreme Passions Page 4