Even Lovers Drown

Time seemed to still under the powerful rush of relief that lifted Blake’s heart from the pit in her stomach. The blanket of anxiety lifted, her eager desire reawakened, buzzed through her veins and brought back her child-like excitement. Saylor, her symbolic candy store, was not telling her she couldn’t have what she wanted. Her body, her candy, was Blake’s to take. A child let loose in a candy story shouldn’t be expected to hold herself back.

But the hint of ever-present fear, buried below the desire, in emerald eyes restrained Blake, kept her from ripping Saylor’s maroon panties off in a single tug. There were things, scarring events, Saylor needed to work through. Blake wouldn’t push her. She would make sure this was a step in the right direction toward recovery from fear.

“We should do that,” Blake said.

She lifted her hands away from her panties, away from temptation, and placed them on the delicate hands grasping her belt buckle. Sparkling green eyes captured in her gaze, she helped Saylor undo her belt, guiding her hands through the process in slow, restrained motions. Her button followed, then her zipper, until she was shimming out of her skinny jeans, Saylor’s hands idle at her side. She kicked the jeans away, let them fall in a careless heap somewhere, and grabbed the hem of her tank top. Her eyes didn’t leave Saylor’s and Saylor’s didn’t leave hers as she pulled the layer over her head and threw it to meet her skinny jeans.

For a long moment, neither broke eye contact, too consumed in each other to do much more than stare. The air around them felt heavy, hot, and excited Blake’s need till she was sure she would bust.

Saylor’s eyes were the first to break contact, tentative emerald hues traveling Blake’s unveiled body. Trails of heat followed her gaze. Blake’s skin caught fire under each languid sweep. Their eyes met again, the long perusal ending. Saylor’s eyes crinkled and brightened under her smile.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

Sweet reassurance that Blake didn’t need. She didn’t. Fans reminded her daily how attractive she was and years of peer-abuse hadn’t warped her self-perception. She was completely comfortable, standing exposed in her plain black panty and bra set.

But the statement was different coming from Saylor. More important, more delicious, more heart stopping. Just more.

“Come here,” Blake mumbled and gently took Saylor’s wrist in her hand.

She tugged, brought her flush against her body before she could respond, arms taking their usual spot around her waist. Skin pressed skin, breasts to breasts, hips to hips. The heat plaguing their bodies mixed into a suffocating blaze and only one thing could defuse it.

“I need you,” Blake said, fingers dancing over Saylor’s back.

Without pause, Saylor wrapped her arms around her neck, body pressed deeper into Blake’s. “I’m yours.”

And their lips meshed, molded in gentle and fervent movements. Their hips and breasts pressed closer, an attempt to become one. All strained against the confines of undergarments. But Blake wasn’t satisfied. Her body begged for more. For naked skin, for handfuls of assets, for a taste of anything and everything.

More, more, more.

Her tongue darted over plump lips, asking for entrance. Saylor’s parted for her, no resistance. Their tongues met, danced together in first greeting instead of battling for dominance. A delicate hand tangled in Blake’s curls. It didn’t push her away or pull her in uncomfortably close. It held her in place. Exactly where Saylor wanted her, not where Blake wanted to stay.

There were more places to kiss, to taste. She couldn’t be expected to remain glued to her lips, though she was sure she’d become addicted to her kisses, with so many other body parts to explore.

She retracted her tongue, met with minor protest, and dragged her lips from Saylor’s to trail light kisses along her jaw. Behind her ear. To her neck. Stopping only when a quiet moan tickled her ear, the mark of her destination. She nipped the sensitive pulse point, then nibbled, then bit and sucked. Moans and whimpers hit her ears, all louder than the first. Barely.

God, she was quiet. Unnaturally quiet. As if she was holding back, denying herself the full indulgence of pleasure to avoid being too loud. Blake would have been upset. Saylor wouldn’t let her see her in the midst of their intimacy, just as she wouldn’t let her into the darkness of her past. Such huge parts of her and Blake was being denied.

But Saylor wasn’t doing it on purpose. She couldn’t have been. Someone, that woman, Katie, taught her, trained her, to keep quiet. Blake could only imagine the reinforcement used to make that stick.

Well, Katie wasn’t going to get in the way of Blake having all of Saylor. She would fix this.

Mouth dropping to her collar bone, Blake skimmed her fingers along Saylor’s spine. Up, up, until she touched the fabric of her bra. She took the clasp in her hands, unhooked it, and slid the bra off Saylor’s body, the same way she had done it numerous times before. Those had been groupies, though. This was Saylor. This was more exciting.

Blake’s mouth dropped further, raining kisses on exposed skin. Her lips touched freckles, gave each scattered dot a kiss to remember them, seared them to memory. Saylor’s breasts rose and fell in quicker tempos, her once restricting hold relaxed. The hand meant to hold her in place simply rested in her blonde curls, an opportunity for Blake to catch an erect nipple between her lips.

A surprised “Oh” slipped from Saylor’s mouth. Her hand, lax from the shower of kisses, tightened again, firm grasp holding Blake in her new place. She arched, her breasts pushed forward in demand for more. Gentle sucks, harsh flicks, and soothing licks answered the call. Teeth scrapped skin, pert nipple pressed to tongue, unaltered moans bombarded air. Perfect.

Blake’s hands gripped Saylor’s ass, molded the smooth flesh beneath fingertips. Hips pressed harder into hers, then pressed backward into her grip, then repeated the process, as if Saylor was unsure which way would extinguish the desire pooling between her thighs. Smirking against her breasts, Blake chose for her, pressed Saylor’s hips into hers with the firm grip on her ass. Both options meshed together.

But it wasn’t enough. Blake needed more, yearned for the rest of her. And Saylor needed the same.

She lifted Saylor, not once letting the nipple out of her hold. Long legs wrapped around her waist, breasts moved to eyelevel, and the new position relieved the tension on her neck. Careful, she turned and laid Saylor on the mattress, situating herself comfortably between her legs. Reluctant lips released the nipple that once dominated their attention, a feat considering the tight hold on her head.

Saylor groaned. “Why are you stopping?”

“It’s a surprise,” Blake said, kissing the underside of Saylor’s breast. “Let go and you’ll see.”

She peered up at Saylor, who was staring down at her. Curiosity settled in her hazy green eyes and creased her eyebrows. A small, childish pout settled on her face. Anxious-seconds passed, and Blake questioned if Saylor’s resolve would break. Her breathing still erratic and her breasts flushed, she had to give in.

And she did. Her hand relented hold of Blake’s curls and the arm clinging around her shoulders, just shy of her tattoo, slid away. Her legs unwrapped and rested on the mattress. She was open to anything, was trusting Blake not to hurt her. Elation bubbled in Blake’s veins. Saylor trusted her.

Eager kisses attacked Saylor’s body. Around her breasts. Over her stomach. Along her scar. And one on the thin piece of fabric covering her mound.

Her fingers hooked on the flimsy material Saylor called panties and slid them down her legs, tossing them to the side, exposing her. Saylor’s legs didn’t close in embarrassment but remained spread for Blake to see. Her pretty, pink pussy glistened under the hotel room lights. Ready. Waiting. For her.

Blake leaned in and nuzzled the thatch of red hair. The smell of her arousal surrounded her, heightened her own, encouraged her need to taste. Her tongue slipped past the threshold of her lips and boldly ran over Saylor’s slit. The hips beneath her jerked, a sharp intake of breath filled Saylor’s lungs, and Blake couldn’t revel in the ability to surprise her and make her feel what that other woman hadn’t, senses too consumed by her sweet taste.

So good.

Blake’s tongue pressed her clit, lavished the tiny bundle of nerves in licks and flicks. More moans. The only expression of enjoyment Saylor could manage. Hips rocked beneath her in irregular rhythm and Saylor’s breathing mimicked it. The comforter grew taught in the tight hold of fists, edging from the tuck that kept it in place.

“Blake,” Saylor moaned between breaths. “I’m going to—“

Blake hushed her, her breath brushing her clit. “I know, honey.”

One finger, then another, slid into Saylor, stretching her. She gasped, bucked. Good signs. Curling her fingers, Blake captured the protruding clit between her lips and gently sucked. Saylor pulled the comforter loose from its tucked place. The rhythm of Saylor’s hips and breathing grew more and more uneven.

And she tensed. Her back arched, her muscles spasmed around Blake’s fingers, and a ragged cry pushed from her throat. Releasing her clit to mumble encouraging words, Blake kept her fingers’ pace consistent, curled inside her until her body finally relaxed in limp exhaustion.