Making Love

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Making Love Page 6

by Aidan Wayne


  “Sweetling,” Leeta said, kneeling down in front of Carla and taking Carla’s hands in her own. “Is that your only worry?”

  Carla shook her head. “N-not my only worry. But a big one. Because it is a big one. I— That’s important to you!”

  “Carla? Carla, look at me. Please?”

  Carla looked, sniffling and fighting down tears. Leeta’s expression seemed so hopeful.

  “Carla, do you love me? Love me back?”

  Carla couldn’t help it. She knew how she felt about Leeta, how her stomach fluttered every time the succubus smiled, how warm it made her feel when Leeta wanted to spend time with her, how much she appreciated Leeta’s bluntness and clumsy kindness. How she’d been fighting down those feelings in order to try to match Leeta up with someone else. She nodded. “Y-yes.”

  “Do you . . . do you find me attractive? Do you enjoy the way I look and move?”

  Carla nodded again. Leeta was beautiful. That was never a question. But—

  “Do you not want sex?” Leeta asked, voice soft. “Do you not like it?”

  “I don’t know,” Carla replied miserably. “I’ve never had it. I’ve never wanted it before. And I just don’t—I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “Would you . . . want to try?” And Carla could see how careful Leeta was being, how important this felt. Because she knew it would be a deal breaker if this didn’t work, although neither would begrudge the other for it.

  But yes, she did want to try. For the first time ever, actually, she wanted to try. If only because she wanted Leeta to be happy. If it made Leeta happy, Carla was pretty sure it’d make her happy too, even if she ended up not caring for the act itself. And wasn’t that what True Love was really about? How you and your partner fit together?

  “I . . . Yes,” Carla said, wiping at her eyes. “Maybe. I mean. I would like to at least try. If it’s you.”

  And then Leeta smiled, brilliant and bright, if still with a touch of fear. “All right, then,” she said. “Let’s figure this out, shall we? Together.”

  Carla was all for just going at things right away, but Leeta pulled back and suggested they take some time first. Let Carla become used to the idea, as well as give themselves some time to get back into the space they were used to. The last few days had been unpleasant and uncomfortable, with anger and sadness on both ends.

  Leeta had been clear about wanting to make sure there was no residue of that for Carla’s first time.

  Carla still couldn’t understand how she’d gotten so lucky, that someone as wonderful as Leeta wanted her, of all people. That Leeta was still available for Carla, and not with someone else. But then again, it was Carla’s own failure at matchmaking that had things turning out this way, so . . . maybe she should count herself lucky in more ways than one. If she’d been better at her job, she would be missing this. That was an upsetting thought.

  Carla did try her best not to worry, but she was so jittery over the thought of what she wanted or possibly wanted, and what would happen and all the maybes and why-nots, that by the time Leeta came over the next evening for dinner and a movie to regain some normalcy, Carla was almost more twisted up than before.

  Leeta noticed, of course. “What’s wrong?” she asked, almost as soon as they finished dinner. “Are you having second thoughts? I understand if—”

  “No,” Carla interrupted, stomach fluttering. “I’m not. I’ve just—I’ve just been thinking about it, that’s all. And . . . if I’ll do a good job. If you’ll still like me after.”

  “I can’t promise that it won’t be hard for me if you’re unable to do this,” Leeta said, scooting a little closer on the couch. “But I do promise that I still will love you after, even so. I don’t think I realized how much I wouldn’t actually have a choice in loving someone,” she added, voice wry. “How much loving you has affected me. But then, you’re always teaching me new things.” She lifted a hand to Carla’s cheek. “May I kiss you?”

  “Okay,” Carla whispered, closing her eyes as Leeta leaned forward.

  It was a chaste kiss, a gentle brush of lips that made Carla feel warm and cherished. She wondered for a brief moment how it might feel to be kissed by someone who wasn’t Leeta and immediately discarded that thought. She was pretty sure it was so wonderful because it was Leeta who was kissing her. Carla’s stomach flutters got worse, but in a good way.

  “Again?” Leeta asked, and she sounded just as nervous as Carla felt.

  Carla giggled, unable to help herself. This was all so . . . much. “Yes, please.”

  Leeta moved forward again, and this time Carla met her halfway. They traded kisses, just gentle nips and pecks, for several minutes. When they broke apart again, even Leeta was a little flushed.

  “My,” she said, sounding a little breathless. “And I’m not usually one to be affected. How are you feeling?”

  Warm, blushy, still nervous, but . . . “Good. Really good. I—I think I liked that.” Carla smiled, trying to fight down the embarrassment. “A lot.”

  “I did too.”

  Carla inched forward again. “Would you, um. Would you like to try . . . more?”

  Leeta chuckled, shaking her head. “I know it sounds out of the ordinary for me, but I think I’d rather take it slow. I want to make sure you are comfortable no matter what we do. And I’d . . . like to think we have time.”

  “We do!” Carla exclaimed at once. “Definitely. I just, I guess . . . I don’t think I’d mind if we . . . if we . . . did more?”

  Leeta smiled, warm and not the least bit mocking. “All right,” she said. “But at your pace, not mine.”

  Carla blushed even darker. “But I don’t even know what my pace is.”

  “So won’t it be fun to find out? If you’d like to?”

  “I . . . I like kissing you,” Carla admitted. “A lot.”

  Leeta’s smile grew brighter still. “We can certainly do more of that,” she said. “In fact, in terms of more . . .”

  She placed one hand on Carla’s shoulder and wound the other arm around her waist, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to Carla’s neck. Carla felt her eyes slide shut.

  “Oh.”

  “Was that all right?” Leeta asked, her breaths puffs of air against Carla’s skin. “Did you like it?”

  “Yes,” Carla replied, breathless. “I really, really did.”

  “Good.” Leeta pressed in with another kiss, and then another. Carla’s fingers found Leeta’s shoulders and clutched at them. She was almost relieved when Leeta pulled back. Almost. There was still an acute sense of loss.

  “Could I kiss you like that?” Carla asked. “Would you like it?” The arm around her waist tightened briefly.

  “Very much,” Leeta said. “Please, do . . . do whatever you’d like. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop. Just as you will do the same for me.”

  Carla nodded, eyes fixed on Leeta’s. She pressed a kiss to the underside of Leeta’s jaw, smiling when Leeta shuddered. Carla had done that. Made Leeta feel good like that.

  It was thrilling. She wanted to do more.

  She mouthed a little more at Leeta’s jaw and neck, taking immense pleasure in Leeta’s happy sighs, and then, idea taking hold, opened her mouth to suck on some of that smooth brown skin. Leeta gasped, and Carla immediately pulled back.

  “Sorry!” she squeaked. “Sorry, I didn’t— Was that too much? I know you said my pace but that includes your pace too, and I—”

  “Carla,” Leeta said, pulling away just enough to press a kiss to Carla’s forehead, and then the side of her mouth. “I didn’t say stop.” She smiled, honey slow. “And believe me, I wasn’t about to.”

  “Oh,” Carla said, voice small. And she wanted to return to what she was doing, but now she was embarrassed again.

  Leeta chuckled. “Here,” she said. “This is what it felt like.” And then she leaned in to lick a little at Carla’s own neck, and oh that was—that was what—

  That was what she’d been
making Leeta feel.

  “Ooh,” she said. “Okay, I— Okay.” She felt Leeta smile against her skin.

  “You see?”

  Carla nodded, blushing so hard she might as well have been steaming. She swallowed. “Could I . . .?”

  Leeta tipped her head back, exposing her throat, and Carla went for the dip where neck met shoulder. This time she didn’t stop at Leeta’s gasp, happily moving down to nip a little at Leeta’s collarbone too, feeling Leeta against her. This was fun.

  They continued like that for several more minutes, until Leeta pulled away again. Carla couldn’t help the little noise of disappointment she made.

  “How are you feeling?” Leeta asked, holding on to Carla’s hand.

  “Good. I liked that. All of it.” And she wasn’t even blushing too badly, she didn’t think. “Um. How are you feeling?”

  “Very good,” Leeta replied with a smile. “And even . . .” She hesitated before adding, “I could make a meal of this, I think. Just this.”

  “What? Really?” That was wonderful news! “But I thought you needed—”

  “So did I,” Leeta said. “But I believe it turns out that it’s true; things work differently when love is given and returned.” And her voice was so warm when she said that, Carla felt like she’d just been hugged close. Then she was being hugged close, because she’d dived at Leeta, grinning.

  “That’s so wonderful! Now I don’t have to worry about you going hungry. I was really scared about taking it slowly, because I wanted to make sure you were able to eat.”

  “You were worried about that?”

  “Of course! For me it’s just something new and different, but for you it’s not only something you enjoy, but need. Of course I was worried.”

  Leeta’s fingers stroked over Carla’s hand. “That’s . . . that’s not why you wanted to continue tonight, was it? Because Carla, I can go without eating properly for several months if I continue to have regular food. There’s no need for you to—to force yourself to move faster. I’m fine.”

  “Oh no, no.” Carla reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Leeta’s ear, thrilled that she was allowed to do so. “That’s not it. I mean I was worried, but I also wanted to see what sex was like. Since you enjoy it so much. I wanted to, um, I wanted to share it with you. Does that sound silly?”

  Leeta swallowed and shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “Good. Because—because I mean it. I may never have cared about sex before, but I’ve also never cared about someone this way before. I want to have—be intimate with you. Not only because it would make you happy, but because you like it so much. I want to see if I could feel that too. And then it would be something else I could share with you. Okay?”

  “Okay.” A whisper.

  “But you’re right, I think. That we shouldn’t rush just because I’m worried or . . . anything like that. And I won’t rush, and I like taking it slow and exploring but . . . but soon?”

  “That would be nice,” Leeta said. “If you want to.”

  “I think I really do, at least to try. And um, about, um, tonight?” And oh dear, after all that, this was what got her blushing again?

  But Leeta only grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “I was thinking. Maybe you could spend the night. I don’t . . . know if you like to cuddle, but I do, and I thought it might be nice to just—just sleep together. And um. Wake up together.”

  Leeta’s eyes glittered. “I would love that very much.”

  Carla woke up with Leeta curled around her back, and feeling so warm and fuzzy that she felt she might burst. She snuggled back down in her embrace for several long moments, savoring it, before getting out of bed to get ready for the day. She let Leeta sleep on, watching her fondly for a few moments before heading into the bathroom.

  Leeta was stirring just as Carla finished, and Carla was struck by how nice it was to see her there, yawning and stretching awake in Carla’s own bed. Her hair was tousled, but in a way that looked artful as opposed to the giant puffball that Carla’s turned into. She wondered if that was part of succubus magic—always looking lovely.

  “Good morning,” she said softly, not sure if Leeta was a morning person. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Very well,” Leeta replied, voice still tinged with sleep. “Did you?”

  “Mm-hmm! Do you like breakfast? I was going to make us breakfast.”

  “I would like some tea or coffee,” Leeta said, extricating herself from Carla’s pink and purple blankets, “but as to food, I would be happy with any breakfast you make.”

  “Okay! Okay, tea or coffee, I can do that,” Carla said. Probably tea, since she had that. She didn’t drink coffee enough to own a machine. “There’s a towel for you folded up in the bathroom. And, um, you can—you can borrow my robe, if you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Right! Okay! I’ll be in the kitchen.” And making pancakes. It seemed like a pancakes kind of morning.

  Carla did her best to keep herself busy while Leeta was in the shower, but it was hard because she kept thinking of Leeta in the shower, which was probably not what she should be thinking while trying to make breakfast, but it also felt like a good thing? That she wanted to think about that? Even if it was very distracting and these were going to be the lumpiest pancakes she’d ever made. She hoped Leeta wouldn’t mind.

  Leeta strolled into the kitchen several minutes later, just as Carla was plating the stack of pancakes. She was wearing Carla’s robe, even though it was both too short and too big, what with Leeta being much taller and slimmer.

  “I m-made pancakes,” Carla stammered, handing Leeta the cup of tea she’d made. “I hope you like them.”

  “I’m sure I will.” Leeta leaned down to peck Carla on the cheek before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  Carla let out a nervous but happy giggle and set the pancakes down, before getting the milk and maple syrup and jam out of the refrigerator. She wasn’t sure what Leeta would like as a topping, but Carla liked nearly anything as long as it was nice and sweet.

  She was unsurprised when Leeta reached for the marmalade.

  “So I was thinking,” Carla said in a rush as she put a dollop of strawberry jam on a pancake. “That maybe I could go with you to your work today? Not to stay! If you don’t want me to, but, um, walk you over? Or . . . drive. And then I could fly home. But I also don’t want to crowd you so—”

  “Carla,” Leeta interrupted, and Carla gratefully stopped her babble. “I took the day off.”

  “You did?”

  Leeta smiled indulgently. “I was being optimistic on how the evening would go.”

  “Oh! Did it, um, did it go well? I mean, I think it did.”

  “Oh yes, very well. I honestly couldn’t have hoped for better. It was very nice.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” Carla said. Then she shoved half a pancake in her mouth to stop herself from talking. They’d already established that they’d liked last night. She felt her cheeks warm anyway, remembering the kissing. She’d always thought it seemed so romantic, but she’d never really thought about how it would feel.

  Carla liked kissing. Or, she liked kissing Leeta. And she already knew that because of last night, and she really needed to stop thinking about it.

  “Well,” she managed, “did you, um, have other ideas of what you’d like to do today?”

  “I was hoping to spend more time with you,” Leeta said. “If you didn’t mind. I’d like a day with you where we aren’t occupied with trying to match me up.” She grinned. “Since it is less necessary now.”

  “Oh,” Carla said. “That— Yes! That sounds nice.” She took another big bite of pancake to think over what to do. Mostly she’d been spending her leave time following Leeta around. This was actually her last day, and she got to spend it all with Leeta. Having Leeta all to herself. “Did you . . . did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?”

  Leeta shook her head. “I’d like to go ba
ck to my place for a change of clothes,” she said, “but no, no plans aside from that. We’ve spent a lot of time on me. Let’s do something you like.”

  “I’ve liked almost everything we’ve done together so far,” Carla said honestly. “Spending time with you makes me happy.”

  Leeta smiled. “Me too.”

  “But, um, I found some new recipes I’ve been meaning to try making,” Carla said. A dark, dark chocolate flourless torte that looking interesting (and not too sweet). “Maybe we could get your clothes and . . . go on a walk? And then come back here and bake. Or do something else! Whatever you like.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Leeta said. “Let’s do that.”

  “Okay,” Carla said, smiling shyly over at Leeta.

  They ate in silence for a few more minutes before Leeta asked, “What was it we’ve done that you didn’t like?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You said that you’ve liked ‘almost everything’ we’ve done together,” Leeta said. “Which things didn’t you enjoy? So I know.”

  “Oh, um.” Carla fidgeted with her fork. “You, um. When you went to the art exhibition about the . . . the people. Um.”

  “The Orgasm in Process show?” Leeta ask.

  Carla nodded, blushing hard. “I just felt really, um, awkward. Not that there’s anything wrong with sex,” she hurried to add. “Obviously! I just felt uncomfortable, um, looking at it?”

  Leeta nodded, lips pursed in thought. “And you’re sure you want to try having sex? I . . . I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Oh yes! Of course! I want to try it to know if I mind it or not. I’m hoping I don’t. Then you wouldn’t have to go without. If, um, if you still wanted to try things, anyway.”

  “I do,” Leeta said firmly. “I’ve been wanting love for a long time. I can compromise on other things. Even if . . . sex is something you don’t like. We’ve already established that you like kissing and that I can eat from that, which is more than I might have expected. I can work without the rest.”

 

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