Page 129 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls

Those had been pretty fast, denying Celene the irresistible slow teases she preferred.

And now, prose about the assistant’s ass and the Mistress slapping it merely scattered into the background as sensual garnish to Skye’s body squirming in its stimulated state.

“You’re so naughty, reading this, Skye. Who do you see yourself as? Do you want your fingers inside, driving a womanmad, or would you rather grind onto a Mistress’s hand, begging to be taken out of your misery?”

Celene’s questions must’ve called a direct line to Skye’s clit. Skye mewled fitfully, releasing the book to ball and open her fist in time with their hips grinding. “I think I’m wet enough.”

“For me? Are you wet enough forme?”

Skye interrupted their rhythm to hollow space beneath her. “See for yourself.”

Celene let go of Skye’s breast to journey slowly, tortuously, into the smooth heat inside the lounge pants. “No panties, either,” she processed aloud, eyes closed to tame herself. Because, god, Skye was excessively wet. Excessively ready. “This pleases me. To no end.”

“Thank god.”

She didn’t obsess over being single for years. The lack of sex could be remedied on her own, and companionship was facilitated by her friendships. Skye fulfilled a special role, and Celene couldn’t imagine living without her. This knowledge tapped something visceral and tender, marked by her eyeing the copious gleam on her fingers, moaning, “I love you.”

Skye managed to laugh, right into the mattress. “Beautiful timing.”

“Kissing in the forest, jogging around the park, sex in my bed…nothing compares.” Getting back into it, she reached forward, offering the wet fingers to Skye. “Taste yourself.”

Hungry for herself or the erotic overture, Skye eagerly drew the fingers into her mouth, swirling a tongue that sharpened every nerve ending on Celene’s body. Celene could only allow that much sensuality before she lost her composure, pulling the fingers free to return to their source. There, she traced Skye’s clit and rubbed rhythmically, chasing the relief Skye deserved.

She didn’t stop there, though, locking her mouth to Skye’s nape, beneath her hair. Celene’s tongue and teeth worked tight,sensitive skin, and Skye shrieked unabashedly through it, in the type of overload she adored.

Foreplay and impatience.

They’d discussed the combination on their first hammock date.

Foreplay had long passed. Celene guided Skye through the comedown of a loud orgasm accented with dogged gasps. A sight Celene would seal permanently in her mind, of the woman who, when she could speak again, whispered, “I love you, too.”

Celene forced herself to exhale steadily, having climaxed from the press of Skye’s ass and the thrashing beneath her. Though that couldn’t fade in time for Celene to ask, “More?”

Skye surely slippedin some incredulousness with her parroted, “More?”

Flipping onto her back, she paired the question with a smile. With a trace of Celene’s jaw, the sharp shape of her lips.

Celene was the love of her life. And having this connection, Skye knew this went deeper than a sexy afternoon. This was their way of bonding without speaking on the family meeting this evening. More and more, she began to understand the folly of choosing women who hadn’t handled Celene’s reserved nature with authentic, sincere care.

She wouldn’t make her feel pitied.

Nor disassociate mid-intercourse. For someone who zoned out more than others, Skye couldn’t do that. Not in these deep moments.

Skye nodded, opening her mouth for Celene to cover, to lick inside possessively. Her heart fluttered, overrun by the devotion poured into their kisses. But they were a match made stitch bystitch from the elements Thalia praised. She reveled in receiving this assertive attention, shivering when Celene tugged off Skye’s clothes.

Celene pushed herself up, and her stare zipped at every part of Skye’s body. Blinking lazily, she said, “We can skip going tonight, if you want.”

They could agree—an evening in bed sounded better. Itwasbetter.

She knew Celene, though. As much as the Vales annoyed her, the duty to show up and express her part was important.

“No, I want to be there for you.” Skye fit two fingers into the waistband of Celene’s shorts. “Let’s enjoy the now.”

That commitment seemed to work. Celene smirked through peeling off her skimpy around-the-house outfit, knowing how hot her figure got Skye. She didn’t linger long, though, until she got into the same sitting position. Brushing her black hair behind her shoulder, Celene focused on her apparent objective to make Skye come.

Skye grasped a pillow, the bedspread—anything within reach—once Celene inserted two fingers between Skye’s legs and began pumping. The white walls, Celene’s shallow breathing, the faint aroma of sex and perfume let Skye accept the reality of their coupling. Even the tenseness in Celene’s arm flexing was artful, a visual treat of skin and sensuality.

“Another?”