Page 36 of Faun Over Me

Gods, how had she ever thought this human girl didn’t know what she wanted?

Cricket pulled away, cupping Avery’s cheeks and sweeping tears away with her thumbs. She leaned into the touch, eyes drifting closed as a soft smile curled her lips. Her thumb drifted idly across Cricket’s nipple, and a shiver of delight fluttered into her belly and up to her ears, drawing an admission before she could stop the words.

“You’re so brave.”

Avery’s eyes flew open, her lips parting. Now that the words were out, now that she’d spoken her true opinion of Avery to the room, Cricket didn’t want to put them away. Let her hear them; let her know what others thought of her. She needed to hear the truth. Deserved to hear it. So she stole a kiss for courage and spoke.

“You came here despite where and how you grew up. You took that chance, and you came here. When we first fell through, Gods, everyone was so afraid. We hid from people and scavenged in the middle of the night. We tried to pass ourselves off as deer and elk to avoid notice. It drove my cousin insane. I was so little when we fell through, but they were old enough to join the border patrol. Old enough to remember what we lost. They couldn’t sit still.”

“What did they do?” Her words teased across Cricket’s mouth, warm and sweet. If she just nudged forward, those lips would be on hers. She would tip over into the desire kindling in her belly with every sweep of Avery’s thumb. Back and forth. Back and forth, teasing the hardened nub until Cricket’s breathing became heavy. But she needed to get the words out. Needed Avery to know how brave she was.

“They came here—” She slid her other hand into Cricket’s hair, fingers brushing the base of an ear. Cricket closed her eyes, swallowing a tiny moan. “They met someone and never … never came back. Gods, Avery.”

Nails tickled the curve of her ear, and the maddening human urged her with a whisper. “Keep going.”

“I, ooh, oak and ivy.” She fisted her hand and lightly punched the bedspread. Heat shot low into her core, a dull throbbing growing as Avery swept her finger over soft, sensitive down. “I always wanted to leave,” she panted. Her core tensed. She was aware of her body making tiny movements, rocking and twitching, needing to be closer to Avery. To feel the girl’s weight over her. To feel her warmth. What in the hells had this human done to her? “Wanted to come here with them, but I was too–too afraid. I couldn’t do it until the Georgia—Gods—the Georgia men.”

“The company buying up land?” Avery pinched her nipple and leaned closer, her breath a brand on Cricket’s throat.

“Yeah,” she gasped. “They want us out. It was the push I needed, but you—you just did it.”

There. The words were out, and Cricket was about to combust. She gripped Avery’s arm, stilling those fingers teasing her ear. Needing the human to hear her, to understand how brave she was. “You left all on your own. You made a plan, you executed the plan, and you’re here having a full-on conversation with a monster.”

16

Avery

Avery straightened and skimmed Cricket’s face, taking in the wild, crazed look in her eyes. The erect ears and the uneven breaths. The trembling in her fingers as she gripped her arm.

Something like power thrummed in her veins—power and pride that she’d been able to do this to the bold faun. That she’d been able to wring such a confession out of her with touch alone. The realization had her inching closer, bringing her lips to Cricket’s throat. The faun tensed as if she feared any further movement would have Avery retreating. The thought made her smile, and she breathed her next words against her throat, right where soft down faded to warm skin.

“You’re not a monster.”

“Gods.” Cricket’s hand shot up, cradling the back of her head, those long fingers working into her braid and tugging. Avery grinned outright, twisting and bringing her knee up onto the bed. Her skirt tangled in her legs, pinching her waist. She begrudgingly pulled away, tugging at her skirt and pinning the fabric to the mattress with her knee.

“Take it off,” Cricket demanded in that husky, raspy voice. “You hate it so much; take it off.”

“I’m not supposed to.”

“Fuck ‘supposed to’.” She reached forward and tugged the skirt low, revealing the black lycra bike shorts Avery wore beneath. A slow smile stretched across Cricket’s face. The sweet little split in her upper lip widened as her eyes drank in Avery’s thighs. She gripped one, squeezing soft thickness, and licked her lips. “So much better.”

A flurry set off in her belly at the hungry way Cricket looked at her. She had forgone the bandeau bra, and her nipples were peaked beneath her shirt—another modified muscle tank in heather gray with a screen-printed image of a naked woman adorned in flowers beneath the words Lilith Fair. The urge to take one in her mouth and suck until Cricket cried out was overwhelming.

So she gave in.

Kicking her skirt off the rest of the way, she cupped Cricket’s cheeks, hauling her into a kiss. She straddled her lean legs with all the freedom of movement the shorts allowed and eased Cricket onto her back. She went all too willingly, pliant and submissive in Avery’s hands. It was exhilarating and dizzying being given this much control over someone, and the heady rush of power lent her a confidence she would normally lack.

She’d been with girls, she’d had hook-ups and a secret girlfriend in college, but she’d never had anyone like Cricket. The girls at Messiah had all been raised like Avery. There was a comfort in knowing her partner struggled with the same guilty hang-ups as her: that she was a disappointment. That something was wrong with her, or that this was only a passing phase. But the comfort always turned to apprehension and frustration. She wanted to be with someone who would hold her hand in public. Someone who was confident in themselves and their desires.

Someone like Cricket with her wild curls and wide, deep eyes like wells that Avery felt she could fall into and never hit bottom.

She tasted of vanilla and honey, faint spice, and a slight nuttiness that had Avery plunging her tongue deeper, sweeping along Cricket’s broad, flat tongue as if she could drink the taste. Her hands traveled from her cheeks to her shoulders, down the length of Cricket’s lean waist, and up again. She wanted to gather the faun to herself, wanted to hold her entirely, and never let go.

It was impossible to kiss her deep enough, impossible to forget the sensation of her tongue. It wasn’t slick like a human’s, but textured, the slight scrape and subtle grip on Avery’s tongue setting alight nerve endings she didn’t know she had.

Cricket kneaded her thighs as they kissed, her hips rocking, seeking out pressure and friction. Tiny whimpers lodged in her throat, the hardened tips of her nipples teasing Avery through her shirt. She broke their kiss and straightened, ripping her t-shirt over her head and tossing it across the room. Cricket went still, her gaze caught on Avery’s chest. Her own nipples were hard, poking the thin cotton of her un-lined bra, and though she wasn’t wholly on display, she felt vulnerable beneath the faun’s intent stare. She started to cross her arms, and Cricket’s hands shot up, seizing her wrists and guiding Avery’s hands back to her.

“Don’t.” She shook her head, blond curls bouncing against the pillows. “Don’t hide from me.”

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