Page 61 of Make Room for Love

Mira rarely bought nice things for herself. But she knew a nice thing when she saw one, having endured two years of living with Dylan. This wasnice. She didn’t even want to imagine how much it must have cost.

But she didn’t feel smothered by this gift. She felt…cherished. Isabel knew her tastes, and the slip was both sexy and practical. Mira wasn’t just a dress-up doll to her. Isabel had been thankfully low-key about money so far, letting Mira split the check more often than not. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be spoiled every once in a while.

“It’s more of a present for me,” Isabel said. She was so flustered Mira could barely believe it. Isabel was hot when she was stoic, but she was so, so hot when she wasn’t. “If you don’t like it?—”

“Isabel, I love it,” Mira said. She was wildly turned on, and she could think of some other things to do that would feel luxurious. She was loosened up and warm from her back rub, and emboldened after she’d texted Shreya. Now she was ready to pounce. “It’s not just a present for you. The things you’re going to do to me while I’m wearing it are all for me.”

Isabel’s eyes widened. But she recovered quickly. “Like what?”

“Will you get your strap?”

Isabel’s smile was impossibly suave, and her blush was adorable. “Be right back.”

27

Mira closedthe curtains in the living room, undressed, and pulled the slip on over her head, shivering as the fabric tumbled down over her body. The silk was as cool and soft as she’d imagined, clinging to her in all the right ways, caressing her and teasing her. Very unlike Isabel’s sturdy hands, but it felt like Isabel touching her, all the same. The slip came halfway down her thighs, but the slit up the side was deep. Perfect.

Isabel returned—wearing her strap, with her jeans pulled back on and unzipped, which really had no right to be as hot as it was. She looked at Mira like she wanted to devour her. Mira giggled and twirled in place, sparks of anticipation rushing over her skin.

Isabel came behind her and pulled her close. She nipped at the side of Mira’s neck and ran her hands hungrily over Mira’s body over the slip. Her strap dug into Mira’s back, thick and solid, sending a warm jolt to Mira’s core. “How do you want me?” Isabel asked, her breath tickling Mira’s ear.

Mira tried to think, which was difficult. Isabel’s thumbs slowly rolling over her nipples over the silk made it impossible. She moaned, buckling in Isabel’s arms. Isabel said, “On the couch? On the armchair? You want it over the table again?”

“Couch,” Mira gasped out.

They made their way over. After a moment, with Mira still standing, Isabel said, “Oh. That’s what you want, huh?”

She sat on the couch and made a come-hither motion with her fingers. A dizzying wave of lust overcame Mira, and she dropped to her knees. Isabel handed her a pillow—considerate as always—and Mira put it underneath her, wrapped a hand around the satisfying heft of Isabel’s strap, and took it in her mouth. The weight of it against her tongue made her pussy throb, the hot, heavy ache burning brighter. “Oh, sweetheart,” Isabel said, her breaths ragged, already so gorgeously worked up. “Look at you.”

Mira loved this—loved making eye contact with Isabel as she got the strap warm and wet, loved the way Isabel watched in disbelief and ecstasy, loved the way she stroked Mira’s hair and shoulders like she couldn’t get enough. Loved the way it teased both of them, and the way her own pussy clenched, waiting to be filled up. Loved being cherished and a little bit filthy at the same time.

She relaxed her throat and carefully took Isabel’s strap all the way down until she was kissing the harness—quivering, overwhelmed, sofull, savoring the way Isabel’s breaths stuttered as though Mira’s mouth were right up against her nerve endings. Mira ran her hands over Isabel’s thighs through her jeans—such nice thighs—and Isabel let out a moan. “Baby, come up here and let me touch you,” she said, gasping.

Mira eased off the strap, caught her breath, and stood up shakily. She took out the lube they stashed in the end table—very practical—and got Isabel ready. Then she pulled the slip up over her hips and swung a leg over to straddle Isabel, resting her thighs against Isabel’s unzipped jeans and belt buckle. Isabel’s eyes widened. This was going to be good.

Isabel liked to call Mira femme, and it was a thrill to be femme in moments like this: wrapping her manicured fingers around Isabel’s strap, being pink and frilly against Isabel’s flannel and denim and roughness. It was a refuge from the world telling her that she was too feminine in all the wrong ways or not feminine enough. With Isabel, she could let herself blossom.

Isabel couldn’t come just from Mira riding her, but that didn’t mean Mira couldn’t make it good for them both. She grabbed Isabel’s strap and rubbed the head of it against her clit, the pulse of pleasure making her gasp and her thighs tense. With her other hand, she pulled the straps of the slip off her shoulders until it fell down over her breasts. Isabel groaned. Took Mira’s breasts in her hand gently at first, and then roughly when Mira arched her back for more.

Teasing Isabel—and herself—was fun, but it wasn’t enough. She clutched Isabel’s shoulder, angled the dildo toward herself, and let it ease her open. She was feverish as she lowered herself onto it, thighs trembling, Isabel plucking at her nipples and driving her crazy. Settling on the harness with Isabel deep inside her was sheer relief.

But she needed more. She lifted the lacy hem of the slip over the triangle of hair above her pussy, and started moving, swirling her hips at just the right angle, letting the stretch and friction and pressure light her up inside. Giving Isabel a show.

Isabel was panting, her eyes dazed. “Oh, god, Mira.” Her gaze darted down to where Mira was fucking herself, then back up, like she didn’t know where to look. “I can’t believe…” For all of Isabel’s confidence, she acted like every time they had sex was the most astonishing thing that had ever happened to her. Mira laughed breathily. Her thighs were already burning. But this wasn’t going to take long for her.

“So gorgeous,” Isabel said, her voice reverent. “You’re incredible.” Her hand wandered down over Mira’s body, hotand voracious through the silk draped over her stomach, rough over her bare thigh. And then hard and insistent on her clit, jolting Mira so intensely she squealed, nearly losing her balance. “Careful,” Isabel said. Mira let out a laugh, and they settled into a new rhythm with Isabel rubbing her clit, their bodies effortlessly attuned to each other.

Mira wasn’t in a hurry, but she was close. Isabel’s other hand was splayed over Mira’s ribcage, her thumb teasing Mira’s nipple, her hips thrusting up to give Mira a little more. “Love watching you ride me,” Isabel murmured. “Love how good it feels for you. Love these sounds you make.” Mira squirmed, pleasantly self-conscious, and Isabel clutched her tighter. “So fucking gorgeous with my strap in you. You’re all mine?—”

Mira came, just like that, crying out as she convulsed and gripped Isabel’s shoulder, riding her harder—and Isabel tensed underneath her, too, with a throaty groan. That was new. It was so unexpected and hot that Mira couldn’t help but grind down hard, giving herself one last intense aftershock, and giving one to Isabel too.

She collapsed on top of Isabel, panting. The strap was warm and wet against her stomach, making a mess of this expensive slip. Isabel ran a big, comforting hand over Mira’s hair, her heartbeat thumping fast against Mira’s ear as she caught her breath.

You’re all mine.Mira hadn’t thought she liked that kind of thing. It had been disorientingly hot, and so right in the moment, when she’d been bouncing and giggling and enjoying herself as Isabel’s precious femme. She wanted to hear it again in bed. She didn’t have to overthink this.

“I’m not sure I ever said thank you,” Mira said, still aglow. “Thank you so much. I love it.” A surge of raw emotion washed over her. Sex with Isabel had a way of doing that. “I’ll wear itunder my dresses. That way, I’ll always have a way to have you with me. Touching me and holding me all day.”

Isabel paused for a second too long. “You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”