Girls Who Bite

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Girls Who Bite Page 9

by Delilah Devlin


  When la caída was well enough, she and I joined my sisters on their walks, Carmen and Lucia with the lovers that followed them from town to town, Adriana with her woman of the week. As we passed the town cemetery, a headstone caught my eye. It was too new, too free of weeds and dry lichen, and carved with only the letter S and the current year. The grass covering the grave looked new and tenuous.

  La caída stopped with me, but couldn’t tell what I was looking at. She hadn’t passed the cemetery a hundred times.

  “Mother told you we would never defile good men’s graves,” Carmen whispered as she passed. “Instead, we make new ones.”

  La caída watched Carmen, and her eyes narrowed as she listened. She didn’t yet understand the ways our family, how the undertakers and stonecutters, the doctors and butchers, all worked together to shield the desires of the women. She didn’t yet understand how we worked, humans or naguales. She didn’t yet know the million little sins we committed to turn our hunger for salt into the best thing it could be.

  Carmen took my hand and la caída’s and put mine in hers. “Welcome to Earth, ángel caída. You have a lot to learn.”

  THE CRYSTAL ALTAR

  Adele Dubois

  It’ll be dusk soon,” Morgan Hall said to Rosa Martinez, watching the last van filled with picnic-goers exit the Crystal Cave parking lot. “The others will arrive at sunset for our tour.” At the edge of the grassy area she threw sandwich crusts, empty bottles of tea, and organic chip packets in the trash and recycle bins. She brushed her palms down the front of her tank top and the back of her shorts, flaking off bits of crumbs and dried clover.

  Katydids, tree crickets, and cicadas chirped and buzzed in the thick grass and dark woods of the surrounding Pennsylvania Dutch countryside.

  Rosa shook out their picnic blanket and clicked her tongue. “Only your cousin would celebrate her birthday in a creepy place like this cave.” She scrunched up her nose.

  Morgan tried not to smile, since Rosa was being serious. If she only knew how cute she looked when she made that face, she might never do it again.

  Rosa hated the dark and anything remotely otherworldly. She refused to watch fantasy or horror movies and detested Halloween. Rosa liked musicals, TV cooking shows and Christmas. She’d come to Angela’s birthday party strictly under protest. Morgan had mollified her with a picnic she had prepared. Rosa worked as the chef at the restaurant Morgan managed and rarely got a break from food preparation.

  It seemed the novelty had worn off.

  “The caves are historic,” Morgan said, trying to reason with her. “Natural wonders. People travel from all over the world to visit and they’re right in our backyard. We’ll see formations like calcite crystal walls, flowstones, and dripstones millennia old.”

  Rosa stopped folding the blanket and set her mouth in a grim line. Her nostrils flared. “I’d rather wait in the car. You go. She’s your cousin. And a freak, if you ask me.”

  Morgan couldn’t argue there. Her cousin Angela had turned a whole new kind of weird since her trip to Europe. She’d left eastern Pennsylvania a skinny geek in glasses that nobody wanted to hang with. She’d returned a curvy Goth with facial piercings, night vision, and an entourage of beautiful women who’d moved into the Lancaster home she shared with her father.

  Angela had explained that laser eye surgery in Eastern Europe was light years ahead of procedures in the United States. Her new look was the work of some chick she’d met on the road named Lillith. The transformation, she claimed, had made her popular. Angela seemed perfectly happy.

  Which was more than Morgan could say at the moment.

  “I know she’s odd, but she’s family and it’s her birthday. What else could I do?” Morgan took the blanket from Rosa’s hands and laid it on the grass beneath the cover of an old weeping willow. Rosa followed inside the natural umbrella of leaves and slender branches.

  “Let’s not argue, ’kay?” Morgan pleaded. “We have at least an hour before the others arrive. We haven’t been alone all day.” She hoped her voice sounded husky and sexy and not as desperate as she felt.

  Secretly, she worried that they were headed for bed death. Rosa had become more distant and less interested in sex than she had been during their first six months together. Morgan had plenty of platonic friendships and the last thing she wanted was for Rosa to drift into that category. She loved her and wanted her as much now as she had in the beginning.

  Morgan lay down on her back and reached up from the blanket for Rosa. “Come here.”

  Rosa avoided eye contact at first, but then her gaze tracked the V between Morgan’s legs beneath her skimpy blue shorts. Morgan let her thighs relax. The cooling summer air sent a breeze over her flesh and her braless nipples cinched like ripe raisins beneath her light cotton top. She licked her lips and fanned out her long brown hair on the blanket. Then she rested her arms above her head and waited.

  Without a word, Rosa lowered to her knees beside her and ran a palm up the length of her bare thigh. Her fingers hooked the hem of her shorts and her nails scraped the edge of her thong. Morgan shivered at her touch, but didn’t move. Sometimes Rosa needed to take control. Morgan sensed this was one of those times.

  Her patience was rewarded when Rosa leaned over her, trailing tendrils of jet-black hair across Morgan’s shoulder. Her heavy breasts brushed Morgan’s arm, causing goose bumps to pepper her skin.

  “I’m sorry,” Rosa whispered. “You’re right. You have a family obligation to meet.”

  Morgan draped Rosa’s hair behind her neck and traced the curve of her creamy tan shoulder. “Who knows? The night might be fun. We’ll see thousand-year-old stalactites and stalagmites.”

  Rosa sat back on her heels and let Morgan run a hand over her breasts. “Sounds interesting.” Her tone said otherwise, but Morgan appreciated Rosa’s effort.

  She lowered her hand. “It’s not just the party that’s been bugging you, is it?” Fear trickled up Morgan’s spine as she realized she might have opened Pandora’s box. Once that happened, there was no going back.

  Rosa’s expression flashed indecision. She nibbled her lower lip. When Morgan thought she’d scream if Rosa didn’t answer soon, she finally spoke. “I know I’ve been distant lately. It’s just…you’re the first woman I’ve had an intimate relationship with. I feel connected to you, and comfortable—and the sex is incredible. There’s never been anything like it for me.”

  “But?” The word hovered like a landslide waiting to fall.

  “I guess I’m not as sure of myself as you are.”

  Morgan lowered her lids and held back a sigh. “I want you to be sure, Rosa.” She lifted her gaze and met Rosa’s fathomless brown eyes. “I know who I am. If you don’t, that’s okay. I wouldn’t dream of trying to force you. But you have to tell me soon—before I get hurt.” It was already too late for that, but Morgan kept that sentiment to herself. Adding pressure to the relationship wasn’t the answer. Rosa had to come to her without guilt, or not at all.

  Rosa leaned down and kissed her, as if offering reassurance. “Thanks for not freaking out.”

  Morgan wrapped her arms around Rosa’s waist and deepened the kiss. She touched her tongue to Rosa’s and then slid hers inside her lover’s mouth.

  Rosa sucked it in greedy little pulls. Then she licked and nipped Morgan’s bottom lip before pressing her mouth again to hers.

  Morgan reached beneath Rosa’s T-shirt and unhooked her bra. She brought her hands to Rosa’s warm breasts, caressed their softness and massaged their fullness. She groaned with pleasure at the silky texture of her skin and the scent of strawberry soap that lingered there. Thrills shot through her at the feel of Rosa’s nipples hardening inside her palms while her breathing quickened against her mouth. It was the ultimate turn-on to be wanted.

  They broke the kiss and yanked off their tops and shorts, returning to kiss and fondle each other.

  The trees rustled around them as a gust of wind shook the leaves. Somewh
ere in the distance a dog barked. Morgan barely registered the world outside the canopy of the weeping willow, as a moment of inspiration struck.

  She lowered her mouth to the pulse beating against Rosa’s neck and sucked the spot with deep, hard tugs. Her teeth grazed the delicate skin and nipped until bruises formed. She swirled her tongue over the dappled plum marks and savored the taste of Rosa’s sweet flesh as blood pooled just below the surface.

  Rosa leaned away and touched her neck. Tiny lines formed between her eyebrows as her eyes flashed with uncertainty. “Why did you do that?”

  Morgan cradled Rosa’s breasts and lifted them higher, watching her hands squeeze and release. “I was marking you. I want to make sure the freaks at the party know you’re taken.”

  Rosa laughed. “You’re jealous? I was worried you’d gone goth on me, like your whacko cousin. She probably drinks blood for sport.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t surprise me. She likes to pretend she’s a vampire. She and her entourage go to dungeon clubs in the city.” Morgan inspected the love bite on Rosa’s neck. “That looks kind of cool, though. I like it.”

  “You do, huh?” Rosa became playful and tweaked Morgan’s ear. Then her expression turned sultry and somber. She leaned forward and took Morgan’s left nipple into her mouth and sucked while she stroked her right breast.

  Morgan closed her eyes and moaned. The invisible cord between her nipples and clitoris pulled tight, sending the first waves of impending orgasm through her.

  “Now it’s my turn to bite,” Rosa whispered against Morgan’s breast. She pressed her lips to a spot above her heart and began to nip and suck.

  Morgan gasped at the prickles of pleasure and pain as her skin lifted against Rosa’s anxious mouth. Hot breath wafted over her breast while Rosa worked her teeth and lips.

  It had brought Morgan deep sensual pleasure to mark Rosa’s neck, but receiving the bites surpassed her expectations. Her pulse quickened, and adrenaline pumped through her veins, rushing the sound of blood to her ears.

  Rosa slid one hand down the front of Morgan’s thong and stroked her swollen clit while her teeth scraped Morgan’s skin. She moved her mouth to a fresh spot at the curve between Morgan’s neck and shoulder and bit down hard against the underlying muscles. Morgan opened her mouth to shout, but the fingers working her clitoris muted her cries.

  One finger, then two, thrust inside her passage and brushed her engorged G-spot. The stimulated erogenous zone sent fire to her core while Rosa’s fingers plunged and pulled.

  Rosa returned to suck and bite the bruised area above her heart until Morgan felt sure she’d drawn blood. When Rosa nipped the end of her nipple and finger-fucked her faster and harder, Morgan came against her hand in a frenzied rush. She gripped Rosa’s shoulders and gasped for air until Rosa’s fingers slowed.

  Her orgasm faded with the sunlight dipping behind the shadow-lined trees. Morgan tipped her head forward against Rosa’s shoulder. “Dear god,” she gasped. “What just happened?”

  When she looked up, Rosa grinned and smoothed Morgan’s hair away from her temple. “Turnabout is fair play. I got into it.”

  Morgan touched the sore spot at her breast and looked down. Even in the fading light she could see indentations and scarlet bruises. The love bites would definitely show above a V-neck shirt. “I guess those lesbian goths won’t hit on me tonight, either.”

  Rosa smirked. “Damn straight.”

  “You mean, damn right.”

  When Rosa burst into hearty belly laughter, hope filled Morgan’s heart. For the first time in weeks her confidence in their relationship returned.

  Who knew biting could be such a turn-on? Maybe screwball Angela was onto something.

  Morgan’s gaze tracked the caves looming atop the hill above them, and she shivered with an unexpected sense of foreboding. She turned back to Rosa and pressed her mouth to hers in a lingering kiss for comfort. “Guess what, mi amor? I’m not done.” Morgan pushed her fingertips against Rosa’s shoulders to indicate she should lie on her back.

  Gentle breezes filtered through the weeping willow and brushed the tiny hairs on Morgan’s arms as dusk turned to dark. Pole lamps flickered on around the perimeter of the parking lot, casting a glow over the picnic lawn. The willow swayed and seemed to whisper, “yes,” while she pressed Rosa to the ground and pulled off her panties. Rosa lifted her hips and pointed her toes until the satin slid free.

  Wearing only her thong, Morgan stretched out on her stomach to lie between Rosa’s legs. Her palms glided over the soft skin inside her thighs and she watched Rosa’s labia separate, exposing her delicate pink folds and deep, wet channel.

  Morgan nipped the inside of Rosa’s thigh where her leg met her groin. Rosa moaned as Morgan’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin above the femoral artery and began to suck. She worked her mouth against Rosa’s flesh, drawing blood to the surface. Dark purple welts bloomed. Morgan licked the salty skin and tasted the fresh bruises, admiring her handiwork like it was a new tattoo.

  She dragged her tongue over Rosa’s trimmed mons to seek out her clitoris and then opened Rosa’s pussy wider with the pads of her thumbs. The sight of her erect clit as it slid free from its tiny, protective hood aroused her like nothing else in the world could. “You have such a pretty pussy,” she murmured. Morgan moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and lowered her head.

  She would offer Rosa what she knew she loved best.

  She flicked her tongue over the tip of Rosa’s swollen clit and then circled the hard bud with precise, rhythmic motions. Rosa lifted her hips and crooned low in her throat while Morgan lapped and licked. She trailed her tongue along Rosa’s tender folds to the entrance of her vagina and thrust her tongue inside as far as it would go. Then Morgan began a slow thrust and release, in and out, tongue-fucking while she stroked Rosa’s clit with her thumb.

  Morgan pressed her pussy tight against the blanket, found a wide nub of hard earth beneath and rubbed in small, deliberate spirals. Desire shot through her system and she shuddered as orgasm surged near. Her thong dampened between her legs as her juices flowed. She paused, pushing back her need to come, while she licked the furrow between Rosa’s vagina and clit.

  Rosa gripped the blanket and pulled tiny bunches of cloth into her hands. “Finish me. Please. I can’t take any more. It’s so good.”

  Rosa’s clit had swollen to its maximum size and she was breathing in fast, hard pants. Her hips had lifted inches off the blanket to allow tighter access to Morgan’s mouth. Morgan returned to Rosa’s clit and swirled her tongue relentlessly around the tiny bundle of nerves until Rosa shuddered beneath her and emitted wild moans.

  Rosa’s orgasm rolled on and on, and then she peaked. Morgan continued to lick her clit until she came a second time. Rosa pressed a fist against her mouth to keep from screaming.

  When Rosa’s breathing leveled off and she had recovered, Morgan tugged off her thong, sat up on her knees and arched her back. Her nipples had tightened to stiff points and her clit throbbed until she ached with the need to climax.

  Rosa slid down between Morgan’s legs, hoisted herself onto her elbows and thrust her tongue against Morgan’s clit. She licked her firm and fast in steady revolutions that tumbled Morgan over the edge. Rosa’s flickering tongue against her erect bud and swollen vulva slammed a climax through her that pulled the breath from her lungs. She gasped and pressed tighter against Rosa’s lovely mouth while the spasms rolled.

  When her orgasm was done, Morgan lay beside Rosa to embrace her. She kissed the crown of her hair. “I love you,” she whispered. “And I always will.”

  “The others will be here any minute,” Morgan said. She and Rosa pulled on their shorts and tops, but carried their underwear to the car and dropped it on the backseat. They visited the portable potty, cleaned up and then returned to the car to change their clothes.

  They’d just finished dressing for the party when a black SUV roared into the lot, spitting road dust
and cinders in its wake. Brakes slammed and the car veered to a stop near the path to the caves.

  Angela got out of the driver’s seat. Three passengers of varying sizes and shapes followed.

  Minutes later, two more black cars filed into the parking lot. Doors slammed. In all, ten women dressed in red, gray or black dresses walked in pairs to the mouth of Crystal Cave.

  Morgan and Rosa walked hand in hand behind the ten, the only couple carrying flashlights. “Have they all had laser eye surgery?” Rosa whispered.

  Morgan chuckled. “I guess they’ve each been to Europe.”

  “I think we’re underdressed, too. We’re the only ones in jeans, pullovers and sneakers.” Rosa replied.

  Morgan agreed. “Who knew we should dress up?” She’d brought Angela a birthday present, which was all she thought would be required. Inside the decorative bag she clutched with her flashlight was something she thought Angela would like. Her cousin had always loved jewelry, even when she was too skinny and geeky for it to look good on her. Morgan smiled inwardly at the memory. Meow.

  A massive wooden door covered the entrance to the caverns. Beneath a large sign that said, Crystal Cave, Discovered 1871, stood a slightly built young woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. In her hands she held an old-fashioned lantern. The name tag pinned above the pocket of her long-sleeved shirt gave her name: Janine.

  “Welcome. I’m Jan,” she said to the group with a perky lilt in her voice. She pulled an oversized brass key from her pants pocket and unlocked the door blocking the cave. When she turned back to the women she said with a smile, “Will the birthday girl please come forward?”

  Angela stepped from the center of the crowd, a bright spot of red in a sea of black. Morgan stood on tiptoes for a better look at her cousin. Only Jan’s lantern and the flashlights Morgan and Rosa held shed a spotlight over her slender frame and waist-length black hair. Morgan suspected Angela was wearing a weave, but she’d never be rude enough to say so.

 

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