Page 26 of Severed Rivalry
With one hand, I tilt her chin to face me. “That felt good. I’ve never had anyone touch me there and I didn’t know I liked it. I need you to touch me. Don’t be afraid.”
Something in that brings a confidence to the woman below me. She’s less worried, and more playful. She explores my body as I do the same with hers.
Sliding two fingers inside her, I drop my mouth to her nipple and suck. I must’ve done something right, because she bows off the bed with a mewl.
When she’s soft below me—and I’m anything but soft above her—I rip the foil packet and roll the condom down mylength, positioning myself at her entrance. I hold her gaze. “You sure, Angel?”
She nods. “Yes.” She lifts her hips in invitation, and I press my head to her entrance. The heat of it, the slickness, the soft— if I don’t cut off this line of thinking, I’ll blow before we ever get started.
“Look at me.”
She holds my gaze as her hands wrap my upper arms, as I slid inside her. Her wince makes me stop when what I really want is to keep going.
“I’m sorry.” I kiss her lightly, pulling back ever so slightly and rocking back in to where she froze. Again and again, I rock, going a little deeper, pulling out to offer some reprieve.
She winces a second time, but she lifts her hips until I slide deeper still.
“We can wait.”
“No. I want this. I just didn’t know it would hurt.”
I retract my hips to pull all the way out, and the look on her face changes. Pain is gone. Pleasure has flooded in.
“Do that again.” She pants.
I slide in and hit the end of her. Her moan echoes my own.
“Move, Ci.”
I do, slowly at first, trying to give her time, but her hips find a rhythm with mine and, when they do, it’s game on.
My thumb finds her clit, my eyes find hers, and the only sound in the world is the symphony of our breaths, our bodies, and our moans.
“I love you.”
8
fully loaded chamber
Sariah
“Why not?”
Because I said so.
“Don’t you think it’s impolite?” I reply to the teenager in front of me who’sallteenager today.
“Fine. But ‘impolite’ is how we end up with misunderstandings. Impolite is how we end up with a world in crisis. Impolite is why people still eat cows.” Her eyebrows lift on the last one. It’s a total accusation.
It’s me. I’m the one who still eats cows… and they’re delicious.
“Then how about doing it because it would make Rosie happy.” That does it. Renée loves her RoRo more than anything or anyone on the planet. One day I’ll get that title back.
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes as if the burden of wearing clothes that are weather appropriate is beneath her.
I remember being her age.
I remember having so little choice in, well… everything. I wore a handful of clothes, all chosen by someone else. I ate what was cooked, without complaint or comment because otherwise I didn’t eat. I learned what I was told was important.
