Moved by the palpable emotion in Olive’s voice, Kate closed her eyes and murmured, “I think I might.” She thrust in and out of Olive slowly, burying her fingers as deeply as she could. “Have you spent the past couple weeks feeling like you’d lost something you’d just discovered you needed? Something you were terrified you might never find again?”
Olive’s blunt fingernails dug into her back. “I guess you do have an idea.”
Bracing herself for a no, Kate moved her thumb to brush lightly against Olive’s swollen clit. “Would you let me make you come if I promise to do it again just as soon as you recover?” She withdrew her fingers until only the very tips remained, then brought a third to join the two Olive had been enjoying so well. A raised eyebrow earned her a fervent nod, which emboldened Kate to ease back inside. She kissed Olive’s neck, pleased by the way the muscles beneath her lips tensed as she stretched her fingers slightly apart. “I want to hear those sexy little noises you make and feel the way you tighten and convulse around me.” She paused, then admitted in a whisper, “I need to remember what it’s like to make you feel good.”
Olive caressed the side of her face. “Yes.”
Kate drew a light path around Olive’s clit, testing her readiness. Her body jolted in reaction to the careful touch, clearly on a hair trigger, thrillingly close to detonation. Eager to bring on the explosion, Kate pulled Olive into a deep kiss, increasing the speed of her thrusts until her knuckles slapped rhythmically against Olive’s ass. She groaned, pleased by the lewd sound of their fucking, doubly pleased when Olive grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Nipping Olive’s lower lip, Kate finally brought her thumb in to join the action, rubbing precise circles designed to elicit the fastest, hardest, messiest climax possible. She wanted Olive to soak the futon, to fall apart completely all over her hand.
“Oh, fuck.” Olive stiffened. Arched her back. Spread her legs impossibly wider. “I’m gonna come.”
Excited, Kate kissed a path down Olive’s throat to her chest, sucking on the nipple closest to her mouth while redoubling her efforts between what seemed like perpetually shaking thighs. She closed her eyes in anticipation, dedicated for the first time in days to something other than writing. And damn, did it feel good.
Olive’s orgasm hit hard and wrenched a hoarse cry from someplace deep inside her, so loud that Kate knew it signaled a genuine loss of control. She surged up and covered Olive’s mouth with her own, swallowing her delicious moans in case Erato was listening at the door. She didn’t slow her hand until Olive’s taut body went limp, and it only went still after Olive grabbed weakly at her arm, mumbling, “Please, no more.”
Kate pulled out slowly, relishing every aftershock that rolled through the supple body pressed tightly against her own. Flattening her hand over Olive’s aroused sex, she bent and kissed each of her nipples in turn. “You. Are. Magnificent.”
Olive managed a breathless chuckle. “Only with you.” Encouraging Kate to rest her head on her chest, she took deep breaths in an obvious effort to calm herself. “Wow. That was even better than your books.”
Kissing the skin closest to her lips, Kate murmured, “I try.” Then she closed her eyes and enjoyed the thrum of Olive’s rapid heartbeat beneath her ear. After a moment, she added, “I’m choosing to accept that purely as a compliment of my sexual prowess and not as a subtle panning of my love scenes.”
Quiet laughter rumbled through Olive’s chest, making Kate smile even harder than she already was. “As it was intended.”
Kate sighed at the mindless scratching of blunt fingernails between her shoulder blades. “It just feels so easy with you—Erato’s interference aside.”
“Who will henceforth be referred to as She Who Shall Not Be Named whenever we’re postcoital. Or precoital. Or midcoital, for that matter.” Olive stretched to give her left butt cheek a sharp pinch. “Deal?”
Yelping, Kate rolled away while using her hand to shield her bottom against further assault. The sheet dislodged slightly, sending a welcome, cool breeze over their sweat-dampened bodies. “Deal!”
“Excellent.” Olive beckoned for her to return. “Now get back on top of me, but facing the other way.”
The mental image that accompanied the invitation unleashed a renewed flood of wetness to coat Kate’s already sodden folds—so much that she felt almost awkward about accepting. Face hot, Kate admitted, “You’ll drown.”
“I won’t.” Olive tugged lightly on her arm. “I’ll feast.” At the realization that Kate wasn’t going to budge, she reached between their bodies and nudged Kate’s thighs open. Locking eyes, Olive dragged her whole hand through the abundant wetness coating her sex before lifting it to her mouth so she could suck each finger clean. She finished her lengthy, deliberate display by licking every last drop of juice from her palm. In a low, huskier-than-usual voice, she murmured, “Believe me, wet—even messy—can never be a bad thing when your pussy tastes this yummy.”
With both her ego and her libido boosted, Kate was able to let go of her insecurities and resume her position on top of Olive. But before she reversed direction, she paused to cradle Olive’s face in her hands so she could cover her cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin with kiss after feather-soft kiss. As much as she burned to come, she wanted Olive to know without a doubt that this—that they—were about more than sex. She whispered, “On that note, I haven’t forgotten that I owe you a very fancy, very private dinner date.”
Clearly pleased by the comment, Olive caught a lock of her hair and gave it a playful tug. “As much as I appreciate that, right now you’re all I want to eat.”
Mindful of the rule against mentioning her muse, Kate declined to point out that she happened to be Olive’s only option as long as they were locked in the office (save for the half-eaten bag of M&Ms next to her laptop). Instead, she groaned at the sensation of yet more wetness seeping from her body, drawn out by Olive’s blunt language and the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She ducked out of Olive’s grip, shooting her a mock dirty look. “Keep doing that and you’ll really have a mess to contend with.”
“Promise?” Olive’s eyes flashed with pure, sinful mischief. “Now will you please sit on my face already?”
Turned on by Olive’s total lack of inhibition, Kate gave her a final, passionate kiss, then maneuvered herself onto her hands and knees until she hovered above Olive’s eager mouth. Drawing upon her newfound confidence that with this woman, sexually she could do no wrong, Kate snaked her right hand down to fondle herself. Her clit was so sensitive she didn’t dare touch it, not wanting to bring on her own climax when a far superior source of release was mere inches away. She stroked her labia instead, imagining that Olive was not only watching but thoroughly enjoying the show. “Is this what you want?”
Olive let out a quiet growl before grabbing Kate’s ass and pulling her down onto her waiting mouth. Overwhelmed by wet, sucking heat that threatened to send her swiftly over the edge, Kate forcibly lifted her hips so she could at least remove her fingers from the overwhelming mix of sensation. Olive delivered a firm swat to the fleshiest part of her bottom. “Brat.”
Not in any real mood to play hard to get, Kate lowered herself back onto Olive’s mouth with a seductive wiggle of her hips. The moan that greeted her sent pleasant reverberations through her lower body, setting off tiny explosions that stole her breath and left her clinging to the futon. Wanting to distract herself from the way Olive’s skillful tongue sought out her most sensitive spots with unerring ease, she brought her now-unoccupied hands to Olive’s fragrant, slippery sex—laid out so temptingly right below her face—and spread her open.
The sight that greeted her was absolutely mouthwatering. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a woman so beautifully aroused, in real life or within her shamefully extensive history consuming visual pornography. Olive was dark pink, swollen and heavy and coated with droplets of milky white fluid, practically begging to be kissed. Obliging what she
hoped was a shared desire, Kate gave in to temptation and dipped to have a taste. As soon as her tongue made contact, the driving suction against her clit faltered, offering her a welcome reprieve from her own fast-approaching climax.
Grateful to have found a way to buy herself a little breathing room, Kate moved her hands to Olive’s thighs and pressed them apart to pin her down against the futon’s mattress. At the same time she rolled her hips, dragging her pussy from Olive’s chin to her nose, trying to stay away from her searching mouth. Whatever embarrassment she’d felt about her copious wetness was long gone, a testament to the trust and comfort she felt with her new lover. The enthusiasm that met her every action—from grinding her pussy into Olive’s nose to the near-theatrical way she bobbed up and down on Olive’s clit in an exaggerated pantomime of giving head—reassured her that with Olive, even her kinkiest instincts were worth following. Best of all, they were probably shared.
As though privy to her thoughts, Olive slipped two fingers into her vagina, then ran her other hand through the slick crevice between her buttocks, pausing to tease her anus with the barest indirect pressure. Aware that now her focus had slipped, Kate rocked herself on the fingers inside her briefly before redoubling her own efforts, penetrating Olive once, twice, three times, then withdrawing altogether, reaching down to grab and spread her ass instead. She moved her tongue in fast, tight circles around Olive’s throbbing clit, feeling suddenly competitive about who would make who come first. Olive seemed to pick up on the new game, because the hand on her ass lifted only to return seconds later, landing low on her cheek with a resounding smack. Kate moaned against Olive’s clit, feeling her own jump in response. That earned her another slap, which caused her to contract around the fingers inside her—which, damn it, was the beginning of the end.
Cursing, Kate did her best to keep licking despite the thunderous pleasure she could no longer hold back. The grip on her ass tightened, keeping her firmly attached to the wet suction of full lips and at the mercy of an expertly controlled tongue. At the same time, she could feel the fingers inside her fighting to keep moving even as she clamped down around them. The result was a friction so divine it rendered her momentarily useless, unable to do anything except be present and feel. She kept her tongue pressed against Olive’s clit, her entire body quivering as she flew apart with a muffled shout. Olive squeezed her butt, then slapped it, moving her head back and forth as she milked wave after wave of ecstasy from Kate’s absolutely exhausted body.
Acting on instinct alone, Kate sank her fingers into Olive once more, as deep as they would go. She sought out and found a spot she recalled drove Olive crazy and rubbed hard against her walls as she suckled the swollen bud beneath her tongue. Though Olive managed to continue the blissful torment of her clever mouth, she also began to tremble in what was by now a familiar pre-orgasmic ritual. Encouraged, Kate moved her hands back to Olive’s thighs, pushing them open in a thoroughly lewd pose. She pinned one of her knees to the futon and held it there, then very carefully forced three fingers into her until she was buried to the knuckles. Olive moaned loudly, prompting Kate to push up onto her knees, away from her greedy mouth.
“Kate.” Olive whimpered. Her fingers slipped out of Kate, and she hooked both arms around her thighs for leverage. A wet kiss pressed against the side of her knee, followed by warm puffs of air from Olive’s rapid panting. “Yes, baby, lick me. I’m so close.”
Kate used the movement of her tongue and fingers in lieu of her words to let Olive know exactly how much she’d missed her and how glad she was to be here with her now. Olive was crying out and biting at the tender skin of her thigh before she’d even said half of what she wanted to say, but that was okay because even if they didn’t have unlimited time, at least they had the rest of the night. It was more than Kate had any right to expect.
Olive rode out the intensity of her release for an admirably long time before she finally patted Kate on the hip. “Kate, get up here.”
All Kate heard were the tears. Frightened by the quiet sobs that suddenly overtook the body beneath hers, she scrambled off Olive and struggled to turn around without disturbing their increasingly disarrayed cover. She swore as her ankle got tangled up in the sheet, pulling it off their bodies to expose her bare ass and Olive’s presumably weeping face. Panicking, Kate fought to cover Olive while rushing up to lie at her side. Instead she managed to roll off the futon and land on the hard laminate floor. Thankfully, the sheet stayed behind. At least one of them could preserve their modesty—and dignity.
Olive’s gorgeous face peered over the side of the futon, caught in the no-man’s-land between laughter and concern. Yet her cheeks still glistened with evidence of the tears Kate knew she’d recognized. Eyes wide, Olive said, “Are you all right?” Then, before Kate could answer, “After all that fucking, I can’t believe the dismount is what did you in.”
Despite her lingering concern, Kate couldn’t help but dissolve into giggles. She’d faced a lot of humiliation over the past few weeks, so this barely registered. Olive’s two-pronged response of concern followed up by a perfect one-liner reassured her before the notion of shame could even occur. Accepting the hand offered, Kate allowed Olive to pull her back onto the futon and beneath the sheet. She arranged the cover over their bodies so their heads remained out in the open and drew Kate into a thrillingly intimate embrace.
Kate kissed the corner of Olive’s eye, sampling the saltiness of her tears. When Olive let her eyelid slip shut, she pressed her lips against one closed lid, then the other. “You were crying,” she said. “So I kind of panicked.”
Olive slid her thigh between Kate’s and settled a hand on her hip, rubbing with her thumb. “I was just keeping my promise.” At Kate’s raised eyebrow, she said, “That we’d have a good cry together afterward.” She smiled, brightly, then sobered a bit, looking down at Kate’s collarbone as she traced it with her finger. “Honestly, it just hit me all of a sudden. What I’d nearly lost. How good this is—how good we are.”
Kate placed her hand over the scar at the center of Olive’s chest, feeling her own emotion rise again. What she’d nearly lost was staggering. How good they were seemed almost improbable. In a way, she still wasn’t sure she could accept that this was real. What about when Erato let them out of this room? Could she and Olive honestly build a lasting relationship out of a beginning this strange and tempestuous? She had no idea, but—she reminded herself as the tears threatened to flow again—at least for right now, in this room, she wasn’t alone anymore.
“Hey,” Olive whispered, and caressed her hip, then her inner thigh. She kissed away the lone droplet that had managed to escape from Kate’s eye, capturing it on her tongue with a murmured, “Shh.” Her hand crept between Kate’s thighs and stroked her soothingly. “I’m here now. We’re in this together, remember?”
Kate nodded, then muttered, “Shit,” when two more tears slipped out. She laughed when she saw Olive had restarted her own waterworks, a similar curse falling from her lips. “We are such girls.”
“We so are,” Olive said, and hugged her tight as she laughed and the tears seemed to flow harder. The hand between her legs continued its caresses, further confusing Kate. As though sensing her shift in mood, a single finger parted her labia and slid wetly over her highly sensitized clit. “The good news is, I love girls.”
And then—for the moment at least—Kate had nothing left to cry about.
Chapter Twenty-three
Olive fell asleep after the sun went down, worn out from at least five orgasms and hours of hushed conversation between rounds of making love. She fought to stay awake until the very last second, hanging onto consciousness as though succumbing to her exhaustion was tantamount to abandonment, but Kate reassured her again and again that it wasn’t and that, in fact, Olive’s nap would give her the perfect opportunity to write. After all, their freedom might very well depend on her ability to keep making progress. Olive was only able to let go after eagerly accepting th
e idea that Kate should write, which actually compelled Kate to drag herself away from their little love nest, get dressed, and return to her laptop for another round of trying to finish The Damn Book. Within minutes, she was glad she had.
The words flowed. No, they poured out of her, tumbling onto the keyboard one after the next, filling up the formerly blank pages of her document as though she were simply transcribing the end of a preexisting tale. The heart-to-heart talk between Molly and Rose’s mother materialized on the screen just as she’d envisioned in her head, the fragments of dialogue and action she’d imagined for so many weeks finally coming together in a scene she was immediately and immensely proud to have written. Incredibly—and despite her increasingly unhappy bladder—she blazed through the entire thirty-five-hundred-word chapter with energy and motivation to spare, leaving her poised to tackle the very scene she’d dreaded less than twenty-four hours ago, but which she now felt completely prepared to write. The reunion. Complete with red-hot sex! Like she’d just enjoyed with Olive!
Humming to herself, Kate plunged into the literal and figurative climax of her novel. She was so engrossed in crafting the buildup to a perfect love scene she didn’t realize Olive had risen until a cautious hand landed on her shoulder. Deep in her fictional world, she gasped, nearly falling out of her chair as she was jerked back into reality.
Olive stood there in her half-buttoned blouse and panties, tousled and sexy from sleep. She was grinning, legs crossed in a manner that suggested she was mere seconds away from doing the pee-pee dance. “I’m so sorry. I tried calling your name.”
“No, it’s okay.” She reached for Olive and tugged her onto her lap but immediately regretted it. Her bladder screamed for relief from the pressure that had been building all day. “Uh-oh.”
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