The Muse (37 page)

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Authors: Meghan O'Brien

BOOK: The Muse
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Kate wasn’t entirely convinced. “That’s an awfully charitable interpretation of events from someone who was ready to kill that ‘bitch’ less than an hour ago.”

Olive chuckled. “I suppose so.” She lowered her head to bewitch Kate with another slow, deeply erotic kiss. When she drew away, she murmured, “I’m still pissed off about her methods—especially how she got that cop to manhandle me—but at this point I just feel like…all’s well that end’s well?” She giggled, suddenly bashful. “Excuse the terrible cliché.”

A nearly overwhelming rush of affection—maybe it was even love—flooded Kate, making her entirely unable to continue her arguably misguided attempt to protect Olive’s virtue. And it
was
misguided, wasn’t it? After all, Olive was a grown woman capable of making her own choices. Tilting her head, Kate gave her a heartfelt kiss that quickly turned into a sensual wrestling match. But even as they fought for dominance with their mouths as well as their bodies, the occasional, unsettling thought intruded. What if Erato posted the sex they were about to have online? Would their fragile relationship survive? Not even an hour ago, Olive had said:
sometimes desire can override good judgment
. She didn’t want to fail Olive again. She wanted to do better.

Then a brilliant idea—her first in what felt like far too long—occurred. Kate broke away from their kiss and rolled out of Olive’s embrace, excited. “I’ll be right back.”

“I…what?”

Kate glanced at Olive as she made her way to the closet on the other side of the room. Sprawled across the futon, she looked flushed, turned on, unself-consciously lovely beyond words, and totally baffled. Offering her a smile intended to reassure, Kate said, “We deserve a little privacy, don’t you think?” She opened the closet and scanned the slightly disorganized contents before zooming in on a neatly folded stack of spare bedsheets. “Perfect.” She grabbed a khaki-colored top sheet from the pile, then stepped back and raised her prize into the air, triumphant. “Only the best for you, my darling.”

Olive still seemed uncertain. “Why are you…what?”

Walking back to the futon, Kate unfolded the sheet and shook it out before carefully arranging it over Olive’s body. Then she crawled beneath the thin material and into Olive’s waiting arms, relieved that whatever they were about to share would now belong to them alone. “I’m not sure I’d have been able to relax otherwise. Sorry.”

Olive’s grin was both breathtaking and infectious. “Don’t be. You’re sweet.” She pulled the sheet over their heads, enclosing them completely within its protective bubble. The sunlight from outside filtered through the cotton material, allowing them to see each other easily. “Besides, I want you to be relaxed.” Using one arm, Olive tugged her closer and held her in a loose embrace. Her free hand played with the low neckline of Kate’s camisole, a teasing fingertip tracing the valley of her exposed cleavage. “Now that you’ve taken care of the privacy issue, how about you let me take off this sexy little top?”

They’d already kicked off their shoes during their make-out session, but otherwise hadn’t disrobed at all—Olive was very much
fully
dressed. Kate put her hand to the top of Olive’s blouse, thumb poised to undo the first button. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Olive dissolved into sweet laughter, then groaned when Kate brought their mouths together for another impassioned kiss. They went to work simultaneously, setting off a flurry of tugging and unbuttoning and muffled giggling, until finally they broke apart so they could drop their respective tops over the side of the futon and onto the floor. Naked from the waist up, Kate felt real disappointment to see Olive still wearing a bra. Ahead of her complaint, Olive unhooked the front clasp with a deceptively simple flick of her wrist, then pulled Kate’s hands forward to rest on the cups. Her own hands found Kate’s bare breasts and cradled them tenderly, her thumbs stroking the undersides.

“Go ahead,” Olive murmured, and gestured with her head. “You
did
show me yours…”

Delighted by her playful tone, Kate peeled open the bra and gave an appreciative whistle. “Worth it.”

“Glad you think so.” Olive angled her upper body so Kate could remove her bra while they remained safely concealed beneath the sheet. She looked downright luminescent, alight with obvious joy and arousal and relief, all of it a perfect reflection of everything Kate was feeling.

But as Kate discarded Olive’s bra somewhere behind her, she realized her own body was going to the opposite extreme. Tears stung her eyes, her heart thrummed in her chest. She’d nearly lost everything she was holding in her arms right now, but somehow she
hadn’t
. As messed up as it seemed, she had Erato to thank for that.

Olive brought a hand to Kate’s face and wiped away a tear just as it fell. “Shh, no. Uh-uh. Not now. Right now is for making each other happy. We’ll have a really good cry together afterward.” She gathered Kate into a warm, almost platonic embrace. Demonstrating her ability to pluck the perfect words out of the air, Olive whispered, “You’re not alone anymore, Kate. We’re in this together.”

Although her nipples immediately hardened as they pressed against Olive’s rigid peaks, Kate found nothing overtly sexual about the way she was being held. While her desire didn’t ease, her melancholy lifted immediately, replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace and safety. Kate curled her hand around the back of Olive’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, looking deep into expressive brown eyes. Olive was absolutely right—what was wrong with her? Reconnecting physically was far more important than dwelling on the past or engaging in any further self-flagellation.

Setting aside everything except thoughts of pleasing Olive, Kate murmured, “I want to unbutton your pants so I can slide my hand inside. May I?”

Olive giggled, clearly caught off guard by the direct question. But her hips surged against Kate’s, signaling her approval. “I’d like that.”

Kate pulled back so she could look directly into Olive’s eyes. She’d never had a lover who’d read her books before, much less specifically enjoyed the sexual fantasies contained therein. Confident that Olive would enjoy the direction her thoughts had taken, she popped the button on Olive’s pants open, then lowered the zipper with excruciating slowness. Enjoying the hitch in Olive’s shallow breathing, Kate murmured, “Is it all right if I touch you through your panties?” Having already gotten permission, she didn’t wait for Olive to answer her second question before easing inside the now-open pants. She let her hand hover over Olive’s sex, making it clear she wouldn’t go farther without another, specific yes.

Olive’s mouth parted, her supple lips inviting a kiss that Kate desperately wanted to give. Hovering inches away, Kate whispered, “And may I kiss you?”

“Yes, to both.” Olive sounded absolutely breathless despite the rapid rising and falling of her chest. She whimpered when Kate kissed her lightly, then moaned at the first brush of cautious fingertips against her sodden panties. Her legs fell open, which only served to pull the material of her pants tighter around Kate’s wrist, trapping her in place.

Kate wiggled her fingers, a brief burst of movement to remind Olive what she had to offer. She broke the kiss and stared into Olive’s eyes. “Maybe I should take your pants off. It would be so much easier to touch you like that—and I want to touch you more than you can possibly imagine, Olive. Will you let me?”

Her nostrils flared. “
Please
.”

Kate sat up beneath the sheets and slowly worked the form-fitting pants down Olive’s shapely hips. She planted a trail of kisses on the delectably bare skin left in their wake, but only after receiving a nod in response to an uttered “May I?” as her lips hovered over Olive’s upper thigh. To Kate’s wholehearted delight, Olive didn’t become impatient with her questions or simply offer unfettered access to her body. Instead, she actually seemed to understand and even get off on Kate’s love of explicit, vocal consent.

When Kate crawled back up to lie at her side, Olive laced their fingers together, kissed each of Kate’s knuckles, then set her hand back over the crotch of the panties. She appeared suddenly shy, meeting Kate’s gaze as though uncertain how to react. Kate flexed her hand, startled by how wet and swollen Olive felt through the silky material. She longed to sink her fingers inside Olive’s depths, to stroke her slick labia, to massage the rigid clit beneath the heel of her hand until Olive came all over her. But she wasn’t nearly there yet. Mindful to stay within their currently defined boundaries, Kate dragged her fingers up and down the length of Olive’s sex, then made wide circles around her concealed clit.

“I love how you feel,” Kate whispered, holding eye contact. “So soft, so wet. So reactive to my touch.” She moved her hand lower, pressing her index finger into the material so she could locate Olive’s opening. “May I touch your bare skin? I won’t penetrate you, not yet.” She circled her fingertip, perversely delighting in the way her actions seemed to belie her words. “I could just pull your panties aside, play with your clit a little.” She flattened her hand, rubbing Olive with her palm. “Will you let me feel how excited you are?”

Olive opened her legs as wide as she could, hips bucking as she chased a firmer touch. “Yes.” She hissed when Kate tugged the crotch of her panties out of the way, then raised her hands to palm her own breasts, twisting the nipples harshly. “I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Kate flattened two fingers along the length of Olive’s labia, applying shifting pressure to the slick, swollen folds. Pleased by the shaky inhalation that her touch triggered, she drew back and swirled the pads of her fingers in tight circles, moving the teasing contact up to Olive’s clit, then down again to her opening. Hot juices poured from her freely, the viscous fluid coating Kate with thick, fragrant evidence of her desire. Ravenous, Kate brought her hand to her mouth for a prolonged taste, reminded of exactly how much she craved Olive in every way. “I love the flavor of your pussy.” She flattened her saliva-slickened hand against Olive’s sex, grinding her palm against the hot flesh. “Actually, I love everything about it. The way it looks, smells, tastes…how it feels wrapped around my fingers.” Rather than act on her words and tease about the possibility of penetration, Kate used her thumb to draw back the prominent hood peeking out from between Olive’s labia, and her index finger to gently stimulate the engorged knot of flesh beneath.

Olive sucked in a quick, noisy breath. “Kate—” Her thighs were already trembling. “Wait.”

Kate lifted her hand immediately. “I’m waiting.”

“No, don’t
stop.
” Olive was practically whining.

Amused, Kate put her hand back and resumed its former motion. The thighs that had ceased quivering started again. Transfixed by the sight of her hand moving between Olive’s shaking legs, Kate murmured, “I want you to watch.” She looked up into Olive’s face. “Watch how I make you feel good.”

This time Olive grabbed her wrist and slammed her thighs closed on Kate’s hand. “
Wait
…which means, please don’t make me come so fast.” She poked out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “I don’t want this to end too soon.” After a pause, she slowly opened her thighs.

Although Kate would happily touch Olive all night long, coaxing orgasms out of her until one or both of them literally passed out, she wouldn’t deny Olive’s request to draw things out. Shifting her touch lower, she probed the intricate layers of delicate flesh that lay open and ready for her. “I’ll make it last, my darling, I promise.”

Olive gave an appreciative whimper, clutching Kate’s bicep as though reserving the right to take control of the action. Breathing hard, she pressed a flurry of kisses against Kate’s shoulder as though attempting to distract herself, making Kate wonder if she was also thinking about baseball. Finally Olive exhaled in a rush, “My God, woman, why are you so good at this?”

Chuckling, Kate climbed over Olive so she could switch hands, then gathered a generous amount of wetness on her fingertips as she moved her touch away from Olive’s most sensitive spots. “I was blessed with a very rich, very filthy imagination.” Eager to keep her promise to slow things down, she angled her wrist to press her fingers deep between Olive’s buttocks, rubbing the slick fluid around the tight opening of her anus. “So here’s my dilemma. I
really
want to put my fingers in your pussy, but I’m afraid you’ll end up coming all over them, and I know you don’t want that. Yet.” She gathered more wetness, until she was practically swimming in the glorious stuff. “Would you like a finger in your ass instead? To start?”

Olive whimpered, burying her face in Kate’s shoulder. “You’ll make me come just talking like that.”

Kate laughed and kissed the corner of Olive’s mouth. “Dirty?”

“Yeah.” Olive wiggled her hips, urging the tip of her index finger barely inside. “No one has ever talked to me that way before.”

Kate refused to play coy. She knew exactly what she was doing. “And you like it.”

Olive wiggled again, maneuvering herself onto the first inch of Kate’s finger. She was hot and wet and so snug, yet clearly relaxed enough to feel no discomfort. Moaning, she stopped moving to stare up into Kate’s eyes. “I love it.”

“And this?” Kate drew tiny circles with the fingertip that was firmly embedded in Olive’s luscious ass. With her other hand, she gathered more wetness to ease the way. “Should I stop here? Or slide in all the way?”

Shivering, Olive whispered, “Don’t stop.” When Kate didn’t move, she released a shuddering sigh. “Go inside, Kate, please. I need to feel—” Her voice broke as Kate withdrew, lubed up, then worked her finger back inside to the second knuckle. “You.”

Kate paused. “Keep going?” The tight muscle gripped and released her in time with Olive’s heartbeat, which echoed through her own body as though they shared its ancient rhythm. Gazing deep into Olive’s eyes, Kate couldn’t fathom ever feeling more connected to another human being than she did in this moment. “Or is this good?” At this point, she was only asking for the pleasure of hearing Olive answer.

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