Page 57 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls (Kissing At Work #2)

T here existed very few things more divine than Skye sinking into the abyss of covers and sheets, pitching her hips for the most beautiful woman who’d ever loved her. Saturday evening and night passed with an extravagant bounty of teasing, grinding, and sex that poured adoration into every touch.

This drizzly morning started that way, too, breaking for steamy showers and a Sunday breakfast, and with one racy joke and an unbuttoned blouse later, Celene and Skye fell off the gentle track.

Into the silkiness of Celene’s hair splashing Skye’s face as she leveraged her entire arm into strokes deep and fierce enough to rattle the headboard onto the wall.

Skye swore in lush, indulgent bursts, loving every second of it.

“Oh, fuck, how you feel on my fingers,” Celene panted, their foreheads firmly sliding in their connection from friction and sweat. “I’ll give you anything.”

Crisscrossing her legs firmly onto Celene’s back, Skye couldn’t control the whine in her voice. She’d never gotten so wet over her own voice until Celene found her way inside her. “Take me, god?—”

“Come for me. I want nothing else but you coming for me.”

Skye glanced up at the red undertones of Celene exerting herself—mouth ajar from a series of her beautifully hoarse, breathy moans. Only a glance, though. Looking for too long would cost her a few more moments of this intense lovemaking.

Fingertips digging into the fitness of Celene’s shoulder blades, Skye succumbed to an orgasm impossibly more intimate than many times before.

Everything reached deeper; her muscles above and below her navel convulsed in these sinuous seas of Celene, capsizing her in pleasure that could overwhelm but never harm.

Safety. They were each other’s safety.

She raked Celene’s fragrant hair aside to get the full scope of her guiding Skye, gasping and drenched, onto shore. The strokes gradually slowed until her fingers dislodged, and Skye shivered at the emptiness, residual tremors shaking every word of, “I never knew love could feel this good.”

Celene blinked groggily, the picture of sensual listlessness. Where the sharpness of her voice speared the bedroom’s air. Background tracked by rain dancing outside, she replied, “Neither did I. It’s eye-opening…and pretty powerful.”

“What can I do for you?” Skye lapped remnants of herself from Celene’s lips, tasting a heated moan. “How should I touch you?”

Sliding her lithe frame to get comfortable atop Skye, Celene drifted her hand between them. Caressing a breast, her half-concealed smile villainous. “Dealer’s choice.”

Celene put up a feigned amount of resistance as Skye tried to push her onto her back.

Their laughter interspersed the kisses, the shoves meant to seduce.

Skye got to her knees upon the off-white sheets, sitting like a woman presented with a spread of the world’s richest delicacies.

Not too far off, she decided, bending to tongue around a nipple that’d stood by her stare alone. Powerful, indeed.

Languid sampling collarbones, tensing abdominals, hips curvature, the light, decadent scent waiting between Celene’s legs put Skye in an irresistibly turned-on place. Intensified by how Celene teased her nails along Skye’s ribs, sexy and simultaneously distracting.

But nothing would deter her face from nudging Celene’s legs open.

A little awkward from her positioning hovering above, from the side, though that soon fluttered from her mind when her mouth closed in on Celene’s center.

Losing herself, she’d pressed her mouth onto her clit first and murmured deeply when her girlfriend’s body twisted like a corkscrew.

Apologizing with her tongue, she delved further and consumed her with mercifully tactful enthusiasm.

“Oh, oh god,” Skye moaned into velvety heat when Celene’s hand massaged the back of her neck. Everything about this woman pushed the right buttons.

And soon, the fingers there clenched and faltered. “Skye, I need you.”

On instinct, she grasped Celene’s hips chasing harder pressure. Though she’d bedded her enough times now to know what that ‘need’ entailed. Nothing brought out Celene’s pleasure like giving pleasure.

Skye lucked out, by far.

She stepped her knees to pose herself over Celene’s face.

Skye barely offered her raspy, muffled, “have me” before Celene pulled her down and satisfied her need, mouth hotly suctioning.

Skye settled fully, and they fell into what she could only describe as a spell of heaving, quivering mutual gratification.

The erratic canting of Celene’s hips let Skye know she’d hit her limit. Skye kept up with the pace in thirst for all she tasted, her tongue straining and flicking against wetness until the body beneath her quavered and Celene hoarsely cried for all that was holy.

“Beautiful,” was all Skye could get out, running her hungry mouth on the soft skin of either thigh. There was no way she’d leave without every trace of Celene not a part of her.

And she’d hold onto that feeling.

A vibrating interrupted Skye’s meandering dream of kisses and lips grazing her shoulder. She patted the side table. It could be Thalia, ringing her with more ideas about the self-made gallery tonight. Though her phone lay still, unmoving.

“Hello?” Celene answered on her side of the bed, clearing her throat first.

The rawness as she spoke steeped Skye in pride until it all changed.

“What, when?” she went on, her naked spine now taut and upright. “Well, where is he?”

Skye frowned as she sat up. Her awareness spiked when Celene uttered, “God. Okay. I’ll be at the hospital in.

..” Celene set her phone aside and took in a deep, purposeful breath.

It seemed like a private moment, like Skye had happened upon a sacred practice.

Celene raised the phone back to her ear. “About four hours. I’ll pack now.”

Shuffling closer, Skye slid a hand to Celene’s back, on the clasp of the silver necklace. “What happened?”

Celene’s sigh was one of layers—stress, worry, and if Skye weren’t mistaken, a little annoyance. “That was Elise. My dad collapsed.”