by Fiona Zedde
Renee leaned over her love, shivering in delight when her nipples grazed Mayson’s, their legs slid together. Kissing. She could have been kissing these soft lips years ago. She sighed in past regret. Shivered in present pleasure. So perfect together. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Mayson’s hair clung to her fingers.
The sweetness of her mouth!
She pulled slowly away, nibbling on the full lips, kissing her chin. Mayson’s hands gripped her shoulders, but she eased firmly away. There was more she wanted. Much more.
Moving down the long body, Renee touched lightly, confidently, short nails over the responsive skin.
“All this time, you were so soft under your clothes.”
Mayson’s laugh ended on a gasp when the questing fingers slid between her thighs.
“I dreamed about you like this once.”
The fingers teased Mayson’s softness. They teased her clit and a quake moved through her that was like plunging into the Pacific on a hot day, her skin eager but unprepared. Mayson flung her head back, gasping, back arched. The gateway to her desire open to Renee. Lust-painted thighs. Hand stretching up, reaching for something, anything to hold on to as the tide heaved up, swept her away.
“Renee!” she gasped, her mind going blank, her body seeking and unmoored. “I don’t—”
“Shh …”
With her guidance, Mayson turned over. Light splashed over the warm skin. The muscles in her back bunched and released under Renee’s lips, contracted under her teeth. Mayson moaned, grinding her hips into the bed, the muscled ripeness of her bottom clenching as she chased after more sensation. Her thighs were only slightly open but Renee could still see the moisture caught in the wiry hairs, the weeping cup of her sex that she ached to taste.
“On your knees, honey,” she whispered, holding her breath as Mayson moved to do as she asked. “I want to see you. Oh!”
Mayson knelt in the bed, crouched low with her arms braced against the window. Light poured over her, showing every beautiful inch of her skin. Renee licked her lips.
Yes.
The smell of chlorine and sunlight lingered on her, in the rough hairs that brushed against Renee’s face. She sighed. Yes. And felt the soft bottom tremble under her hands. Felt the moan move down Mayson’s body into the worshipful place that made Renee part her lips in anticipation.
“I need you,” Mayson gasped.
And because she lived to fulfill her woman’s every wish, Renee touched her. They moaned together. Deep, body moans. The taste of her—woman, water, desire, love—flooded over Renee’s tongue. The shielded intimacy of her sex opened for her, welcomed her with more wetness, the slick lips, salty heat, soft, fleshly desire that fed her desire. The more she tasted, diving in for the hard clit and the moans that shook her beloved’s body, the hungrier she became. She gorged herself on the delectable flesh.
Mayson gripped the ledge, lips parted, gasping helplessly. Blind to anything outside the window, powerless to the hunger moving through her, making her entire body wet. Sweat, cum, tears, sliding from her. The hot mouth covered her, agile tongue swirling through her folds, diving deep inside her. Searing sensation twisted in her belly. Undone. She was completely undone, like the skin of a mango, slit open, turned inside out, sucked clean.
Guided more by her craving for Mayson than anything Amina had taught her on that ripe and lovely college campus years ago, Renee made purposeful love to her woman with her mouth and with her hands. But it didn’t hurt that she knew just how to curl her tongue to reach what she wanted or that she had learned the language of the flesh, of the quivers and quakes that meant “More. Give me more,” or the muscle-deep vibrations, constant and powerful, screaming, “That’s perfect. Don’t stop!”
Mayson’s softness trembled against her face, filling her with scent, the scorching smell of sex, the sound of her wordless cries that increased the slickness between her thighs.
“Oh God!” Mayson stiffened under her, then undulated, her body a wave of sudden and violent satisfaction. “Renee!”
She panted in the aftermath of her orgasm, arms shaking from their brace against the window. The glass in front of her face misted. She pushed her forehead against it, helpless to the rising and falling inside her body. Renee was still behind her, loving her. She felt the purposeful pressure of her mouth, the fingers brushing over her twitching clit, dancing lightly at her entrance.
“I love that you love my touch.”
Breath traveled up her back, Renee’s tongue licking her sweat, soft moans of unsatisfied desire as she kissed her way up Mayson’s shoulder, the back of her neck, pushing the hair out of her way. Smooth pubes pressed against Mayson’s ass. Hard nipples poked at her back. Her stomach tightened from the fingers sliding down, diving into the damp hairs of her pussy.
“I want to feel you, inside,” Renee whispered.
And Mayson fell under the tide again.
They knelt upright in the bed together, Mayson’s back to Renee’s belly. Flesh to flesh. Mayson was drowning, overcome by the wetness dripping from her, the sweat coursing down her body, Renee’s fingers on her clit, hips moving against Mayson’s hips.
“Tell me.” She spoke the words into Mayson’s shoulder, biting the damp skin. Her finger lashed Mayson’s clit in lazy but insistent circles. “Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me.” The words fell from her lips in a low moan. “Fuck me. Now.”
Those were the words Renee had been waiting for. With Mayson still on her knees, she turned her around, pushed her back against the wall. Her legs fell open even more, head rolled against the wall. Lips parted, tongue moving over dry lips.
She was hotter than Renee ever dreamed. Hot, wet, and tight around her fingers. Renee bent her head. The rounded breasts, the taste and texture of the hard nipples that kept her from flying apart with rapture at the quickening heat of Mayson’s body around her fingers. Her fingers. Mayson’s sex. Their moans.
Renee couldn’t stay still. She sucked, bit, licked, devoured, fucked. Her arm strained to keep pace with her love’s need. But she pushed beyond the discomfort until they panted into each other’s mouths. Gasping over the frantic sound of her wet movement inside Mayson, the grunts rising, unfamiliar and primal, from her throat. The wall knocked with the sound of their fucking. Because this was fucking. Raw and unequaled.
A wave of perfect heat swept through Renee, rushing up through her fingers, into her breasts, bursting between her legs, exploding in a white-hot blaze. She gasped as tremors took her body.
“Oh, sh—!”
Mayson shouted into her shoulder. Her sex tightening, sucking on Renee’s fingers. She sagged against Renee. They fell backward into the bed, rolled apart, pushing sticky flesh away from sticky flesh.
Quick breaths, then slow, the panting downward slope of their desire.
Light from the window swam over them, sending dust motes and the sun’s burning heat into the wilting room.
“Did you—”
“Yes.” Renee gasped the word in surprise. It was as if she’d never given love before. Her body had found its way to satisfaction, easily, explosively.
The bed shifted as Mayson rolled over and pushed herself up onto her elbows. She licked her lips. “I swear it’s not always like that.” Her eyes flickered away as a dark flush moved under her damp skin. “Actually, it’s never been like that. I’m usually more—”
Renee pressed her fingers against Mayson’s mouth. “It was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing about how you showed your love for me.”
Mayson flushed again, dipping her head to nuzzle in Renee’s neck.
“Are you going to kick me out of bed now that you’ve gotten what you wanted?” Her eyes emerged from the wet fall of hair.
Renee blinked the sweaty sting from her eyes and dipped her head to look at Mayson. “You,” she said, smiling into the light surrounding her lover, her friend, “are not going anywhere.”
Chapter 44
It felt awkward to kno
ck on Grant’s door with the ring on her finger. She wasn’t ashamed but didn’t want to rub it in his face either. Mayson knocked anyway. And waited.
Just as she thought about leaving, the door opened. Grant’s face looked carved in stone.
She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Can I come in?”
With a single nod, he opened the door wider. But didn’t move more than a few feet down the hallway, didn’t close the door. Grant leaned back against the wall, mirroring Mayson’s hands-in-pocket stance.
“I heard,” he said.
“I know.” Mayson leaned against the opposite wall, watching the man who stood barely four feet away from her, in pain. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I brought you into this, I really am.”
“Me too,” he said softly, meeting her gaze. “But I knew what I was getting into and I knew how she felt about me. She never hid those feelings.” His head fell back against the wall with a dull thud. “There were so many ways for it to go wrong but only one way for it to turn out right.” He sighed and shrugged despite the pain in his face. “The odds were never in my favor.”
When Mayson had called him in the middle of the night months ago, it was out of desperation. Renee had to be protected. And because Grant had wanted her for so long with nothing to show for it, Mayson knew he would do what she asked: seduce Renee and keep her safe.
“This is yours.” He pulled something from his jeans pocket. The velvet blindfold.
For a moment, Mayson stared at it, black against his pale palm, remembering the night she’d given it to him with her hands still smelling of nutmeg. “Don’t let her know who you are,” she’d told him then.
And maybe she had known what she was doing, offering him the cloth from her bedroom, unable to resist the quick mind’s-eye flash of Renee, blindfolded, bent back against the sheets, gasping. Under her.
Mayson took the piece of velvet and shoved it into her pocket. “In a million years, I never thought she and I would end up together,” she said. “Not like this.”
Grant smiled without humor. “You’re the only one. Even I—” He shrugged. “Anyway, all that is in the past. You have a future with her now and I don’t. It hurts like hell but I’m a big boy.”
Mayson nodded. There was nothing else to say. She rubbed her fingers across the velvet in her pocket. A familiar sound lifted her eyes away from Grant. Renee, walking up the steps toward them in high-heeled sandals. Her outfit mirrored Mayson’s—T-shirt and jeans belted low at the hips—but she didn’t hide her hand in her pocket. The platinum band was blinding against her brown skin. Grant winced.
“It would have been easy to love you, Grant,” Renee said when she was close enough to be heard. “But I was already in love with May. I see that now.” She stepped into the house, into the hallway, and stood close to Mayson. “I’m not sorry that I love her but I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
Briefly, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah.” His throat moved as he swallowed.
“We should go.” Mayson shoved herself off the wall and met Renee’s hand halfway. Their fingers clasped. “Thanks for letting me in, Grant.”
“Sure.” He looked at Renee, then at Mayson. “Take care of each other.” His voice was low but sincere.
And they walked out of his house together, hand in hand, the sunlight falling around their shoulders and on the flower-lined path under their feet.
