Page 81 of Written in the Stars
All she could think about was the night she’d sat on her floor beside Margot after that disaster date. Hopeless and raw, and so damn tired. How she’d decided to pack it in, take a break, quit looking for love and let it find her.
Boy, had it ever.
Something like panic flashed in Darcy’s eyes, a fleeting, frantic flicker. She shook her head slowly, shoulders sagging, mouth opening and shutting before a desperate laugh that sounded almost like a sob burst from between her lips. “You’re doing a pretty good job of it.”
No one had ever said that to her before. Elle had never been put in the position of caring for someone, not really, not beyond a weekend of babysitting. Margot was too headstrong for it, and no one else trusted Elle enough to let her take care of them.
Stomach jittering like it had the first time she’d seen a meteor shower, watched while celestial debris fell from the sky, Elle reached out, cupping Darcy’s jaw. She turned Darcy’s face toward her and leaned in, brushing a kiss against her mouth that immediately made her stomach drop like she was one of those stars, falling, falling,gone.
Quitting grad school and pouring herself, heart and soul, into Oh My Stars hadn’t been easy. Making that leap into the unknown had beenterrifying, but it had always felt right, because she wasn’t one to settle. She wantedmore. This, kissing Darcy beside the rainbow lights of a Christmas tree with more heart than pine needles, was the closest Elle had ever come to experiencing real magic, the kind that sparkled inside her veins and electrified her from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes.
Hands drifting, Elle sneaked her thumbs beneath the fabric of Darcy’s untucked blouse, needing skin, needing more. She traced her nails over the thin skin on Darcy’s hip bones, making her suck in a quiet breath.
Darcy drew back, lashes fluttering as her gaze immediately dropped to Elle’s mouth like she already missed kissing her. Maybe Elle was giving that look more credence, maybe it was just a look, nothing more, nothing less, but speculating made her heart pound.
“Elle, I—” For a moment, Darcy looked utterly and completely lost and all the more terrified for it. She blinked twice, her breath shuddering from between parted lips that twitched into a smile. “We should go to my room.” Darcy reached out, fingers tracing the plains of Elle’s face, each brush of her fingers driving Elle’s need for her up a notch. She wanted her touch, wanted Darcy to touch her everywhere.
“Oh yeah?” Elle let her fingers drift to the hem of Darcy’s skirt. “What for?”
Fingers brushing the soft skin of Darcy’s inner thighs as she slid the fabric up her legs, Elle bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling when Darcy practically panted.Skin. Now Elle was biting her cheek for a whole other reason. Darcy was wearing stockings, the band of her lace only going so far.
Eyes slipping shut, Darcy’s tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. “Elle.”
She leaned in to Elle’s touch, hips pressing into Elle’s hand like she was trying to get closer. Elle slipped her hand higher, fingers dipping inside Darcy’s underwear and through her curls until she found her clit.
Darcy let loose the softest, greediest little moan as her nails bit into Elle’s arm, her hips rocking against Elle’s hand, squirming. Darcy slipped down until she was no longer resting against the couch but instead splayed against the rug. She glanced up at Elle from beneath heavy lids and thick, dark lashes, and the hungry look in her eyes robbed Elle of the air inside her lungs.
“Kiss me,” Darcy panted and used her grip on Elle’s arm to pull her down to the floor on top of her. She kept her there with both arms banded around Elle’s shoulders.
Leaning in, she nipped the swell of Darcy’s lower lip. Ghosting her mouth over Darcy’s chin, Elle slipped lower, trailing kisses down her throat, tongue darting out every so often to taste the silk of her skin. When her lips reached Darcy’s neckline, Elle sat up on her knees and grabbed the hem of Darcy’s blouse.
Darcy leaned up and helped her strip it off. Once her top was gone, Elle took a minute to appreciate all the new skin on display. Her bra was pink and polka-dotted and sheer. Her nipples pebbled against the fabric, begging for attention.
Elle ducked her head and laved her tongue against Darcy’s right nipple through the delicate lace, teeth closing around it and biting gently, then harder when Darcy’s hand flew to the back of Elle’s head, fingers tangling in her hair and holding her there, encouraging her with little whimpers. Drawing back a bit, Elle blew against the pebbled flesh, grinning when Darcy’s hips bucked, her back arching.
“Elle, God.” Darcy’s groan verged on praise, nails raking against Elle’s scalp and sending tingles down her spine. “Your mouth. You’re killing me.”
Darcy’s head pressed back against the rug, her hair splayed out around her, the copper a stark contrast against the plush, white sheepskin. Her back curved, bowing sinfully, her hips arching up off the floor the best they could with Elle straddling her thighs.
Skimming her lips down Darcy’s stomach, Elle fumbled for the zipper on Darcy’s skirt, finding it tucked away against the side of her hip. She lowered it, the sound of the zipper’s teeth loud, making the moment feel a little more charged. Her fingers slid beneath the waist of the skirt, and tugged, yanking the stretchy wool over Darcy’s ass and down her thighs. Darcy wiggled, helping Elle slide the tight fabric off the rest of the way, down her calves and over her slender feet, her polished toes visible through her thin stockings.
Fuck. Darcy was... pretty beyond belief would be putting it lightly.
She wore a black garter belt, suspenders attached to the flesh-tone stockings ending midthigh. Elle swallowed and traced a finger beneath the thin, satin suspender, snapping it gently, the subtle sting, or maybe just the sound, making Darcy gasp.
Darcy was apparently impatient because one of her hands slipped between her legs, touching herself over her underwear.
“No.” Elle batted her hand away and leaned in, kissing the skin where Darcy’s leg met her body. “I’m taking care of you, remember?”
Darcy’s breath sped, rasping between her lips, and she dropped her hand to the floor.
Elle sucked at the skin on Darcy’s inner thigh until her muscles quivered and a sharp gasp slipped from her lips. “Elle.”
She stared at the skin she’d turned bright red. As far as unexpected turn-ons went, she had not expected the bright red bloom of a love bite on Darcy’s thigh to get her hot. But the thought of Darcy walking around the rest of the week with a mouth-shaped bruise—Elle’s mouth-shaped bruise—beneath her pristine dresses and perfectly tailored pants was undeniably sexy. Their little secret, proof that Darcy might looked pulled together, but Elle had the ability to unravel her at the seams and turn her into something soft and messy to be taken care of, too.
Darcy wiggled against the floor and keened softly, hips arching up off the floor.
Tearing her eyes away from the mark she’d left on Darcy’s skin, Elle kissed her way up Darcy’s thigh and over, lips skimming the edge of Darcy’s underwear. Tapping Darcy’s hip so she’d raise her hips, Elle tugged the fabric over her ass and down her thighs, letting Darcy kick them off the rest of the way. She got comfortable between Darcy’s legs, reaching out, thumbs parting her folds. Darcy was soaked, glistening with arousal, her thighs sticky damp when she tried to rub her legs together.
