Page 59 of Unspoken Truths

“Lili,” she breathes, her chest starting to heave a little. Rachelle isn’t wearing a bra, which makes me able to see the way her nipples are pebbling with desire.

“What, baby,” I mumble. “I’m really trying here, but I need to kiss you. Will you keep reading to me?”

“How am I supposed to read if you’re kissing me… oh!” she gasps as I push her shirt up and kiss her breasts.

“Like this,” I tell her, sucking hard on her nipple, enjoying the way her back bends to give me more. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” she moans. “Please don’t stop.”

“If I do something you’re not comfortable with, will you tell me?” I ask her, my fingers ghosting over her skin. I want to devour her, but don’t want to trip over a trigger accidentally.

I was doing a little reading about trauma, going down my own rabbit hole the other day, and found out that sometimes triggers aren’t recognized until they’re uncovered while doing something seemingly innocuous.

I want to make her feel good, not remind her of the piece of shit rotting in prison.

“Promise,” she says sweetly. I can’t help myself, so I crawl back up her body to kiss her lips.

“Good girl,” I whisper, enjoying the way she clamps her thighs together, eyes wide. “Do you like it when I praise you, baby?”

“I do,” she pants, swallowing hard. “I don’t know why, but I really want to be your good girl.”

“The things you make me want to do to you,” I groan. “I love hearing you say those words.”

Most of them I’ve never done, but I know what feels good for myself and I have a very overactive imagination.

“Are you going to keep reading to me?” I ask her.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep reading,” she says honestly, gasping as I drag my tongue around her nipple.

They’re a dark pink, drawn tightly into points as I tease her. The skin around her breasts is flushing slowly, making me want to see where else she’ll turn that gorgeous pink.

“I just want to hear your voice,” I murmur, torturing her slowly. “Even if you’re screaming my name.”

“I don’t know what to do with you,” she says with a giggle that becomes a long sigh.

Anything you want.

“I’m pinned to the wall as Kayla kisses me,” Rachelle reads, and I begin to kiss down her body, my fingers massaging up her legs.

Her skin is soft, her muscles tightening and releasing at my touch. I love how responsive Rachelle is, and the way she tries not to writhe as I torture her with my hands and mouth. I think I may have a complex, always worried that I’m going to be used by some closet bisexual. That’s what happened at the party I went to.

I was into her, but she was just using me to say that she once kissed a girl. I’m a bragging right instead of a person, which is gross to me.

I don’t feel like that with Rachelle, which I’m grateful for. Instead, there’s a bubble of happiness whenever I’m with her.

My fingers move over her healed cuts, and she stiffens for a moment. Frowning I wiggle down until I can kiss every one of them, my fingers ghosting further up her thighs until my thumbs are rocking over her covered pussy.

“Lili,” she moans, her hips jerking up slightly.

“What, baby?” I murmur, my tongue dragging up her skin.

My hands move up until I can grab the waistband of her tiny shorts, and I look up at her. Kindle forgotten on the bedspread, Rachelle lifts her upper body on elbows, looking down at me. Her shirt is still pushed up to expose her breasts, her cheeks rosy with desire.

“I want more,” she says softly. “I just don’t really know what that means.”

“Can I take your shorts off?” I ask her. “I want to taste your pussy, but I don’t want to move too fast. I?—”

“You can take them off,” she says shyly. “I’m all achy. Everything feels really tight.”

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