Bare from the waist up, I returned the favor. Natalie arched off the bed, and with fumbling, nervous fingers I tugged her shirt off and then went to work on her bra. For someone who clasped her own bra every day, I would have thought this part would be easier. But my hands shook and my fingers slipped. It took me nearly a minute to get the clasp undone and Natalie’s breasts free.
And then I stared in awe.
I’d seen plenty of breasts before, they weren’t the new or unknown. But I was acutely aware that these perky, pink tipped nipples belonged to Natalie. And that I was allowed to touch. Acting on instinct, I bent my head and rubbed my lips over one hard tip, then the other. I tried to keep in mind what I liked when guys had done it to me before. I flicked my tongue out, laving it around the tight bud. This elicited a shiver from Natalie, and her hands came to grasp my waist and squeeze.
When I took one into my mouth, sucking gently, Natalie ran her hands from my waist to my breasts, and her fingers plucked. It was incredibly difficult to concentrate when she was doing this to me. My body shook and I moaned around her, my fingers clawing into the bed sheets beneath to keep me upright. I’d never felt anything like this before. I was burning up from the inside, the heat of arousal flushing me from head to toe. I wanted to touch everything, kiss everything, all at once.
I wasn’t expecting Natalie to roll me over, to put her weight over mine and kiss me until I saw stars behind my closed eyelids. When I was limp and trembling, she kissed a path from my chin to my navel, derailing for only a few seconds to pay my needy breasts attention. She made me arch from the bed. My mouth dropped open on a silent groan. My calves framed Natalie’s sides, squeezed tight to her as if that could help contain all the sensation running rampant through me.
I screamed when she went lower.
She kissed the top of my mound, and then right above my clit. She skipped over it, moving lower, her tongue playing over the lips of my entrance. She urged my legs up and over her shoulders, turning her head to kiss the inside of my thighs. She gently bit the sensitive skin there, sucking lightly. My muscles shook, trembling around her. She licked a strip from my entrance to my clit, and then back down. Teasingly. It was the barest of touches. Absolutely no pressure to it.
Over and over she did this, getting firmer every time.
She hovered at my entrance, and I felt her fingers spreading me. My breath caught in my throat, anticipation stringing me tight. She entered me with her tongue, keeping my spread for her as explored. My back left the bed, and my hands scrabbled at her shoulders as sounds I’d never made before left my mouth one after the other. I thought I might be scratching her, but she was moaning encouragingly into me, her lips moving, tongue moving. My brain was whiting out.
She moved her hands to my waist, keeping my lower half pinned to the bed so she could do as she pleased. Her mouth left and I cried out, arching wildly. She made a soothing noise, and then her mouth was on my clit, her tongue insistently flicking my button. I twisted and squirmed, and she didn’t let me budge. She was relentless in her task, and soon I found myself tumbling over the edge. I was shouting, my hands in her hair and my back off the bed. I’d never felt anything like it before in my life. The feeling went on and on, and her tongue kept rubbing me. She was sucking as she worked, and it was like the orgasm was being physically pulled from me. She didn’t stop till I was a limp mess on the sheets, gasping for air and not able to form a single coherent thought. There might have been tears on my face, and I’d swear I was seeing literal stars.
She came to lie beside me, a warm palm on my stomach, her fingers absently stroking. I shivered beneath the touch, my whole body sensitized to her. She nuzzled my neck, and I could feel the curve of her smile against me. I tilted to give her better access, wanting her to explore wherever. She slung a leg over mine, her skin warm and sweaty, sticking to mine, and her voice was entirely smug when she asked, “Yeah?”
It took far longer than it should have for me to recall how to speak, and even then I only managed, “Hell yeah.”
Her laugh was music in my ears, and the moment I regained enough strength in my muscles to move, I made sure to return the favor.
I rolled on top of her, drawn as I had been before to her breasts. I sucked one pert nipple into my mouth, tweaking the other with my fingers. Light pinches and teasing bites had Natalie shifting beneath me, her legs spreading, her heels coming to rest on the curve of my ass. I could feel her wet against me, the slick of her glazing my skin. She panted and moaned from nothing more than my contact with her tits. She was a wave movement beneath me, and a little maneuvering on my part had my thigh between her legs.
I moaned around her as she began to hump my thigh. Her noises got higher and breathier, and I felt incredibly empowered. Her other leg remained wrapped around my waist, her muscles straining as she kept me tight to her for maximum friction.
When I finally pulled away from breasts, she tried to bring me back with her hands in my hair, tugging on the strands. I had to pry her fingers away and then unwind her leg as she mumbled her disgruntlement at me.
She went silent when I settled between her legs, my mouth inches from her mound. I ran my hands over her thighs, down to her ass. I couldn’t help but cup the firm flesh, my fingers exploring the muscle I’d spent so much time staring at.
It was a work of art.
I took my time before I put my mouth on her. I was undoubtedly nervous, but I gave it my all.
She tasted sweet, and I closed my eyes, giving myself wholly over to the moment. I sipped at her, my tongue lapping her up. I slid one finger into her, probing my tongue around it, feeling the stretch of her walls around me as I added a second. I could feel her fluttering around me, the hard squeeze of her internal muscles when I did something particularly well.
I worked a third finger in, crooking them just so, and I moved my lips to Natalie’s clit. I wanted to make her scream with pleasure. I wanted to make her come as intensely as I had. I wanted to render her speechless.
My lips formed a seal around her clit, and I tongued it. I kept a steady pace, never changing my rhythm. Quick, firm flicks of my tongue back and forth while I fucked her with my fingers. I kept everything not too fast, not too slow. I wanted to feel every second of the glide of her inner flesh around me.
When she came, her back bowed off the bed, and she yelled wordlessly.
I felt the entire thing. I felt the twitching of her clit under my tongue and the pulsing of her walls around my fingers. I felt the slick rush of warmth as she grew wetter, soaking my fingers and leaving a puddle on the sheets beneath her.
I like to think for my first time, I did a damn good job.
Chapter Four
As was so often the case, when morning rolled around and I woke to find Natalie beside me, her face serene in sleep, reality hit me like a truck on the freeway. I’d slept with Natalie. I’d kissed her. My mouth had explored nearly every inch of her. I’d touched her. I’d had my tongue, my fingers, inside of her. I knew what she sounded like when she climaxed, and I knew how it felt to have her inner heat squeeze around me. With the heat of the moment a thing of the past, it all seemed very surreal. My insecurities paraded back in like ants to a feast. I really liked her, the kind of head over heels thing that I’d only read about before. But I couldn’t imagine this was anything to her other than a fling. She was lonely and I was there.
How was I going to survive this?
The blank ceiling provided no answers.
I looked to Natalie’s sleeping form. She was curled facing me, her lips parted and her thick lashes fanned out. Her lips were the kind of puffy that occurred after hours of kissing. Her hair was spread all over the pillow, messy and tangled from my hands being in it so much the night before, and her arm was extended halfway between us, her fingers curled into her palm. The sheets were pulled above her breasts, but they dipped on her side, revealing the curve of one. From this angle I could see the start of a bruise, sucked into the pale skin by mo
uth. A glance at her neck revealed several similar bruises. I’d left my marks all over Natalie. She looked like the kind of woman I’d seen in lingerie ads, and I couldn’t wrap my head around how this was my reality. If she weren’t laying next to me, I’d think last night had been nothing but a really fantastic dream brought on by my pining.
I was starting to panic.
Should I wake her and demand to know what last night had meant? Should I slide from the bed and flee the scene? What time was it anyway? Did I have to go into work today? Was there a class I was forgetting about?
Natalie’s hand landing on my stomach scared me half to death. She lazily rubbed the spot just below my belly button as I startled. After last night her touch shouldn’t have felt like such an extraordinary thing. I should have become used to it. But heat rushed through me, and I felt myself becoming wet from nothing more than an innocent touch. “Don’t ruin the afterglow,” she said, her eyes still closed. “Last night was good. Hold on to that.”
I could feel my eyebrows furrowing with confusion. What did that even mean?
Huffing, Natalie moved quickly for someone who was moments before asleep, draping her sleep heavy body over mine. She was warm, and she let the covers fall from around her. Her naked body was pressed against mine, breasts pressing against my stomach. I could feel the hard points of her nipples. “I’m happy,” she said, lips moving against my skin, words muffled. “Chill out.” She curled her fingers around my wrist and notched her head underneath my chin. I didn’t know how that could be comfortable for her. She was taller than me by several inches, and I couldn’t help but wonder if her feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.
Natalie’s free hand came to rest over my mouth. “Shush,” she said. “Everything is perfect.”
That was a word I’d been thinking a lot lately. It was something I rarely ever had used before. All of this was starting to seem too good to be true. I attempted to will myself back to sleep, but no matter how many sheep I counted or how hard I tried to regulate my breathing to something more relaxing, it wouldn’t come.
Natalie wasn’t having the same problem. She was snoring quietly, every exhale ghosting over my collarbone and raising goosebumps on my skin. The tip of her nose was cold against my neck, and I could feel the fluttering of her lashes over my skin whenever she moved. Her hair was like a second blanket around me, and I concentrated on not accidently laying on any of it. This somehow seemed more intimate—and intimidating—than anything we’d done last night.
Eventually I could lie still no longer, and very carefully I extricated myself from Natalie’s hold, sliding from the bed. I left the warmth of her for the cool of the air, and I felt her absence against me immediately. It was more than surface level. She grumbled in discontent and I froze, but a moment later she rolled over, reaching for one of the pillows. She pulled it against her stomach, replacing me with it, and went right on sleeping.
Sighing in relief, and refusing to let myself stare at just how incredible a figure she made in the bed, I bent to find my scattered clothes. My feet were chilled against the tile floor and the apartment’s air conditioning was starting to get to the rest of me. I hadn’t realized how cocooned I’d been in the bed until now. It wasn’t a problem to find my jeans or my top, but it took me what felt like hours to find my panties and socks. Once I’d collected everything, I quietly slipped from the room with it all balled up in my arms.
I stood in the hall for a minute, debating between dressing and bolting or taking a shower first. Maybe the water would kick start a part of my brain that didn’t run entirely on panic. I could use the clear thinking.
Rather than return to the bedroom and the master bath, I headed for the guest bath. It wasn’t as fancy as the master one, but it was still incredibly luxurious. From my times cleaning off after swimming, I was well aware of just how magical the water pressure in this building was.
I stood under the spray, my back to it and my head tilted to properly soak my hair, for a long time. The pounding of the water along my spine and shoulders worked loose tension that had been building since the moment I woke. I didn’t move for the soap or the shampoo. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of the falling water, the heat of it spreading over my skin, the feel of it pelting me. I let myself sink into the sensation and block reality for some time.
When my skin started to prune, I reluctantly began to wash. I took in the bruises on my own skin, left there by Natalie’s mouth. By her teeth and the press of her fingers into my flesh as she held me down. My nipples were tender from her attention, and my thighs were littered with purpling marks and faint bite indentations. I felt better about things—Natalie wouldn’t have slept with me if there wasn’t some interest on her part, she wasn’t the type of person to use others—and I was willing to risk facing the morning ahead. If I didn’t stay and see it through, I’d never know for sure what the outcome would have been.
Cleaning felt a lot like washing the night before away, and I told myself I was being dramatic. Nothing was so drastic. I stepped from the shower into the cold air and proceeded to dry myself with speed. I’d redress and go make coffee for myself and one of Natalie’s gross smoothies for her. I’d watched her do it enough times now to know what went into the blender, and while I shuddered to think of drinking it, Natalie loved to start her morning with it.
Health nuts, man.
Natalie wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so I figured she was still sleeping. Even better. I’d surprise her with the smoothie in bed.
I got things started in the kitchen and was in the midst of chopping kale for the blender when the doorbell rang. I glanced to the time on the oven. It was barely past eight in the morning on a Friday. Who came over that early? Conscious of my wet hair and my wrinkled clothes from the day before—I painted an obvious, embarrassing picture—I went to open the door.
The woman on the other side was drop dead gorgeous. Her legs went on for miles and her smile was something you’d see in a dental advertisement. She wore a pair of skin tight jeans and a shirt that bared her impressive midriff. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was probably a model like Natalie.
“Um, hi.”
Her eyebrows rose as she stared at me. The smile that quirked her lips was—in my humble opinion—like the spider’s to the fly. I resisted the urge to step back a foot. “Hello,” she said, and her voice was accented, distinctly British. As if she hadn’t been enough of a knockout before. “And who’re you?”
It was tempting to say, “No one.” My manners took over. “I’m Amber.” I paused. “I’m a friend of Natalie’s.”
Her smile grew wider, blossoming into what I considered a smirk. “Aren’t we all?” Her voice was so crisp, so polite it left me blinking for a moment before I parsed what she’d said and the meaning beneath it.
I could feel my face flushing, the heat rising to the tips of my ears. My panic from earlier was rushing back in. If Natalie could have someone like this woman, there was no way she seriously planned to settle for me. Things like that didn’t happen in my world. Dignity kept me from fleeing around the woman in the doorway and leaving with no shoes and no phone. I didn’t want her to know she’d frazzled me.
Against my better judgment I let her in. She practically sailed by me, her heels clicking on the tile, and she headed for Natalie’s bedroom as if she owned the place. I was left gaping after her, and it took some effort to pick my jaw up from the proverbial floor. The nerve. Flustered and more than a little angry, I went to the kitchen and scanned the countertops for my phone.
Natalie would have to finish making her own smoothie.
Where was my phone?
I realized I’d left it in the bedroom. Joy. I could leave without it, but I couldn’t exactly afford a new one. I’d have to go in there and get it. Double joy.
Dread roiling in my stomach, I went to the bedroom as one might approach a guillotine. I found the model sitting on the end of Natalie’s bed, a hand on Natalie’s leg und
er the cover. I cleared my throat, feeling distinctly like I was interrupting. “Sorry, I forgot my phone.”
Natalie smiled when she saw me, and she put her arm out. She wasn’t dressed, nothing more than the sheet covering her. She had it tucked around her, under her armpits like one did a towel. Her hair fell in waves around her face, sticking up and tousled in spots. She looked debauched, and it hit me. I’d done that. “Come here. I want to properly introduce you to Chloe.”
Confused—this wasn’t the reaction of someone who wanted rid of me—I approached slowly and allowed Natalie to tug me down and against her. Her arm was firm around my shoulders, and she stroked me with her fingers while she talked. I didn’t know if the touch was intentional or unconscious. “Amber, this is Chloe. We’ve worked together. Chloe this is Amber.” She was rubbing my arm. “My girlfriend.”
There went my jaw dropping again. What? Since when? How? What?
Chloe laughed, and I imagined I must have appeared pretty gobsmacked. Her laugh didn’t sound mean, and when I managed to glance at her instead of Natalie’s calm features, I found she didn’t look petty or hoity at all. Had my vision been colored by jealousy? Embarrassment of a new kind began to filter through me.
I tried to get up, to leave. I needed time to think and process everything. But Natalie kept ahold of me, not letting me move from her side. She was strong, and I was blindsided by the memory of her pinning me to the bed the night before. Of her licking and teasing me until I didn’t know up from down. “Chloe,” she said sweetly, “my ankle’s a bit sore. Would you mind getting a painkiller for me?”
Chloe grinned. “No problem.”
It was the least subtle thing ever.
When she was gone I turned to Natalie. “What?”
Natalie rolled her beautiful green eyes. “I told you to stop overthinking. I don’t sleep with people if it doesn’t mean something.” She traced her thumb under my eye. “How close were you to running out on me?”
Cabin In The Woods Page 33