Page 31 of It’s Me, but Different

“Yes?”

“Do you think this is right? I don't want you to regret later…”

“Shh. We're two adult women,” I interrupt, placing two fingers on her lips to quiet her.

She doesn't need to be told twice. She raises her hand to caress my cheek with a tenderness that disarms me, and when I lean down to kiss her lips, I feel my last barriers explode.

The kiss starts soft, almost shy, as if we're both afraid of breaking such a fragile moment. But when I wrap my arms around her neck, when I feel how she sighs against my lips, all caution disappears.

“Fuck,” she gasps against my mouth. “I've dreamed of this so many times…”

“Me too,” I confess, not caring how vulnerable my voice sounds.

Sloane moves her hands down to my waist, sliding them under my shirt to caress my bare skin. It's a contactthat burns and freezes me at the same time, awakening nerve endings that had been asleep for years.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks suddenly, pulling away enough to look into my eyes. “Because if you're not, we can stop right now. It's okay. I understand, really.”

“Shut up already, Sloane Merriweather!” I whisper, starting to unbutton her pants.

She smiles, and there's a sense of urgency in her movements, as if she also needs to undress me as soon as possible. She makes me turn, positioning herself over me without stopping kissing me. The weight of her body against mine feels familiar and strange at the same time. Like a love song you know, but haven't heard in many years. Sloane gasps while pulling up my shirt, slipping a hand under my bra while rubbing against my thigh.

“Easy there, tiger, we have all night,” I remind her with a wink.

But Sloane doesn't listen to me. She takes off my bra and separates slightly to run her gaze over my bare torso with an intensity that makes me blush.

“You're even more beautiful than I remembered,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss my collarbone.

I close my eyes to lose myself in the sensation of her kisses, from my neck to my breasts. Sighing, moaning, needing her caresses, and when her tongue makes circles around my nipple, I arch my back, covering my mouth and muffling a moan against my palm.

“I don't give a shit if someone hears us,” she whispers against my skin. “I want to hear your moans.”

That simple phrase makes me sigh. It's as if time hadn't passed between us. Sloane undresses me with the same passion, with the same dominant attitude in sex, and my body remembers it as if it were yesterday.

But at the same time, it's different. We're no longer two twenty-year-old girls who made love with the urgency of someone who thinks they should reach an orgasm as soon as possible. Now every caress seems different, every kiss tastes like a second chance.

My underwear follows my pants. She takes it off slowly, tenderly, without hurry, as if she were enjoying every inch of my sex that's revealed. Then she stops and caresses my pubis with the back of her hand with a softness that almost makes me cry with emotion.

“Fuck, you're so perfect,” she whispers against my skin while kissing my belly.

Sloane takes off her clothes quickly, throwing them around the bedroom. She bites her lower lip with desire, staring between my legs, and then grabs me by the ankles and opens them suddenly, settling over me. She pulls my hair while I feel her teeth travel over my chin, she rubs against my sex, mixing her wetness with mine in a delicious friction that takes me back many years.

For a good while, everything disappears. There are just the two of us, lost in a world of sensations, of pleasure, of moans. Rediscovering a language I thought I had forgotten.

And when she gets up and leans down to blow gently between my legs, I let out a very long moan that tastes like surrender. I open them instinctively while Sloane kisses the inside of my thighs, teasing me while sliding her palm over my sex before licking it. She takes me again and again to the edge of the abyss, stopping just when she perceives I'm about to have an orgasm to start again. She continues with that game for a while until finally, I let myself fall onto the mattress, screaming her name while waves of pleasure run through me from head to toe.

“Fuck,” I sigh, running my hands through my hair while she gently kisses my pubis.

“I've missed you so much,” she whispers with another kiss.

“Me too,” I confess, stroking her hair. “More than you can imagine.”

“What are we going to do now?” she asks.

“There is a vibrator in the closet.”

“Idiot. You know perfectly well I wasn't referring to that, but for now it'll do, we'll think later,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

Chapter 14