Page 15 of The Apples Hung Like Stars
I want more though, I want more from her, and as I start to fingerfuck her in earnest, her cries escalating in volume and pitch, I savour each moment.
“I’m going to… I’m going to come Clíodhna,” she eventually gasps out.
“Not yet,” I say, but I don’t take pity on her, or ease up. “You’re going to come when I tell you to.”
Her face screws up, like she’s trying with all her might to hold back a veritable tidal wave. “But… but…”
“Wait,” I tell her, and shift so that I’m straddling her thigh. From this position I can finger her, grind against her and kiss her all at once. Leaning down, we’re breast to breast and I can see the effort with which she’s holding on.
Brown eyes meet mine, and in their depths I read everything I’ve ever been looking for.
“Now, kitten,” I say, and I capture her cries with my lips as she comes apart. I can feel the waves wrack her body as she gives me everything she has. And just as she starts to come down, I pick up speed again and bite her ear, and she’s coming again. The shocked look on Janet’s face is sweet, so sweet, but soon it gives way to ecstasy as I coax orgasm after orgasm from her.
Chapter Eleven
Janet
I am completely undone.
Clíodhna has undone me.
I don’t know what there is left of myself to give.
I’m not sure if there’s anything of me left at all.
I want to touch her, want to curl up in her arms and sob my gratitude for this great gift thatshehas givenme, but before I can, the door to the room slams open and another woman storms into the room.
Clíodhna magics a blanket over me—I’m still not used tothat—before spinning round to face the intruder. Her hair is no longer in its bun, but surrounding her like a force field, red and furious as her eyes. It should be alarming, but it’s entrancing instead, almost as if I can’t look away.
“Sister,” the other woman says. She looks as different from Clíodhna as can be. Her skin is tanned, as if from basking in the midday sun, and her hair so blonde it almost looks white.
Clíodhna’s hair lowers slightly, but she’s still pissed, even I can tell that. “What are you doing here, Aoibheall? What do you want with us?”
Aoibheall glances behind her at me, and her eyes are full of something I don’t quite recognise. Not quite grief and not quiteanger, there’s a longing there that’s quenched when she turns back to my queen.
“Would you keep her?” The words are bitten out. “Have you forgotten yourself, Clíodhna? We cannot keep mortals here, and to let her go now, after she has tasted your delights…”
“I haven’t actually tasted her… ahem… delights,” I offer, but the two of them glower at me and shrink back beneath my blanket. “Cool cool. You guys just, you know, discuss me as if I’m not here.”
That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Aoibheall rounds on me, “Oh hush, mortal. You know not of what you speak. You wish to throw your mortal life away for an immortal fae queen, who may discard you whenever she’s done?”
Neither Clíodhna, nor myself, ever spoke of this going beyond this one night, but as I look at her, I know that I want this. I wanther. “Sure,” I say. “Why not?”
“Well,” says Aoibheall. “We shall see.” She looks at Clíodhna then. “Are you sure you want her?”
Clíodhna doesn’t say anything, but Aoibheall clearly reads her answer in Clíodhna’s face.
“Very well. On your head be it.”
I’m not sure what happens next, but the blanket becomes very big, and very heavy, and feels weird upon my skin.
There’s a strangled noise above me, far too loud. I go to cower, bringing my hands up to cover my ears only I can’t do so. I have no hands.
I have no hands.
What the actual fuck?
Chapter Twelve
