Page 31 of The Words of Us

As she relaxes and releases her grip on my head I take a deep breath and go back to long slow tender licks of her and she begins to shiver under my touch.

I pull away and watch how beautiful she is as she opens her eyes.

“That was… so incredible…” her voice is throaty and raw, as though she can barely speak.

I help her down from the kitchen side and suddenly she is in my arms and kissing me with a renewed hunger.

“Please.. Evie… I need to taste you.”

She is quick to strip off my clothes, she is still wearing her baggy t shirt and soaking panties.

She drops to the floor pulling me down with her in between kisses.

“Please… sit on my face,” she says as she lies back on the cool kitchen tiles taking my hand and guiding me atop of her until I’m straddling her face on my knees.

She is looking up at me and my pussy is so close to her mouth I can feel her hot breath against it.

“Look in my eyes the whole time,” she says. Her left hand is still holding my hand, I can feel movement behind me and I think her right hand is buried in her own panties touching herself.

I look down at her, the intensity of meeting her gaze as I lower my pussy to her mouth overcomes me, but I don’t look away.

Her green eyes are full of lust as they look up at me, unashamed as they take in my breasts on their way to my face. Her moan as my pussy hits her mouth is raw and passionate like an animal and she begins to lick me deeply pushing her tongue inside of me then giving me long licks, nibbles, sucks. She fucks me with her mouth as though it is the thing she enjoys most in the world, and I don’t know, maybe it is. I know she is touching herself as we do this and the thought of it turns me on no end. I can still taste her come in my own mouth.

My eyes are locked on hers and our fingers interlocked as I relax into it and begin to rock against her mouth.

I grind down and seek my own pleasure from her tongue, her mouth, her chin. I find delicious pressure for my clitoris and I lose myself in the intensity of her flashing green eyes.

“I’m going to come,” I murmur, I can feel it building deep inside me. “Come with me,” I say and I sense the movements of her hand quicken. She is passive now in my orgasm, I’ll take my own pleasure by grinding into her mouth.

I see her own pupils widen as I take one last deep thrust of my pussy into her mouth and my orgasm floods through me, wave after wave. I hear her cry out into my pussy as she comes, too.

And we are both coming, still looking in each others eyes as though nothing else matters in the world.

Her hand squeezes mine and I feel her short nails digging into my flesh.

And in the beautiful chaos of it all with this incredible woman who is full of secrets, I know this—whatever was hanging over us yesterday—is gone now, lost in the heat of this moment and in the way we fit together, perfectly and completely.

For now, it’s enough.

16

SASHA

Islam the door to my apartment behind me when I get home from work, the noise echoing through the small space louder than I intended. I’m trembling and my hands are shaking as I drop my bag onto the floor, and the thud of it feels final, like a gavel falling at the end of some silent trial. My heart is still racing from the day, from the morning with Evie, and from the message that has been burning a hole in my mind ever since I read it. It’s like a film stuck on repeat, every word etched into the backs of my eyelids.

“Sasha, we need to talk. You can’t keep ignoring this.”

I drag myself into the bathroom, the small, cluttered space that feels like the only corner of the world where I can truly be alone. I flip the light on and stare at my reflection in the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink so tightly my knuckles turn white. I look at myself—really look—and I barely recognize the person staring back. My hair is messier than usual, and there’s a rawness in my eyes that I don’t know how to hide. I look like someone caught between two lives, two versions of myself, and I don’t know which one to hold onto.

There’s a tightening in my chest, a knot that’s been building for weeks now, and it feels like it’s finally about to snap. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe through it, but all I can hear is that message replaying over and over, like it’s clawing its way out of some dark place I thought I’d buried.

I think about Evie—about the way she looks at me like I’m something good, something whole. But right now, staring at my own reflection, I can’t see what she sees. I see all the mistakes and all the things I’ve been running from. The weight of my past feels heavy, like it’s pressing down on my shoulders, threatening to crush the fragile happiness I’ve found with her.

I’ve spent so long pretending it doesn’t matter, that the things I’ve left behind are just ghosts, faded memories that can’t touch me anymore. But they do touch me. They cling to me, shadowing every step, every decision. They were there yesterday when Evie looked at me with that quiet concern, the same look that made my stomach twist because I know I’m letting her down. I’m holding back. And I hate it.

I open my eyes, staring myself down, trying to find the version of me that Evie believes in. But all I see is someone scared, someone trapped like a wild animal. I’ve tried so hard to keep my past at arm’s length, to keep it out of the life I’m building now, but it’s here seeping through the cracks, and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know how to keep it from ruining everything.

“Get it together,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You can’t keep doing this.”

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