Chapter 11 #2
“God, please do…” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Mirela did not wish to sound desperate, yet all she wanted—needed—was the warmth of Claire’s hands against her skin.
Claire let out a soft laugh, breath brushing against her. “Oh, Mirela,” she murmured. “I am far from being God.”
She leaned closer, her voice lowering.
“But before this night ends,” she added, “I will have you saying my name as if it were the holiest prayer.”
Before Mirela could say anything, Claire clutched her face and pressed their mouths together.
The sudden roughness was welcome, but it dissipated as Claire melted onto her.
Her lips moved over hers, washing away all her doubts, all her uncertainty, replacing it with a burning need to melt against the woman next to her.
Resting on her side, Claire pressed her body to Mirela’s side, hooking one leg with Mirela’s, spreading her wider.
“I am going to need you to relax,” Claire said, as her hand found Mirela’s breast once more. All the tension on Mirela’s body melted as Claire massaged her breast again.
Closing her eyes, Mirela pressed her head to her pillow as Claire began to explore her body. Her hands worked their way from her breast, slowly down her stomach. Mirela’s skin prickled with goosebumps, and she shuddered. As Claire’s hands went further down, Mirela spread her legs farther apart.
Mirela’s eyes drifted shut as she shuddered in a breath, Claire’s hands curled over her core, and she fought the need to keep her eyes open, just to see Claire pleasure her. Her stomach rolled and Claire’s eyes shone with a hunger matching Mirela’s.
One of Claire’s hands touched her thigh, the other moved to spread her pussy. A tender, shy finger ran alongside her opening, gathering her wetness.
“Have you ever touched yourself before?” Claire asked, slipping one finger through her folds, watching Mirela intently.
Mirela nodded. Mirela never thought she would be that wet, not with someone at least. She had pleasured herself before, but she never dreamt it would be someone’s hands other than her own touching her most private part.
“Yes, but your hands feel so much better than mine.” So much better. She wasn’t about to ask Claire if she had been with others before; whatever happened in her past, it was done and finished.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Claire pressed her fingers to her clit. Mirela gasped, the sensation was too much too soon. Her hand shot down and she grabbed Claire’s wrist, stopping her all together.
Claire froze and turned to her. “Do you want me to stop?”
Of course she didn’t want Claire to stop; she just felt like she was about to explode right there and then. All because of one touch… this woman really was otherworldly.
“No, I just…” She swallowed hard, trying to will her breathing to ease enough to talk. “It just feels too good, Claire.”
Claire laughed softly. “I am glad. But I need you to relax for me. If you are going to enjoy this, I need you to trust me.” Claire said, and her hand moved once more.
Mirela pressed her head back onto the pillow and exhaled loudly. Another caress to her clit sent a jolt right through her abdomen, then warm, soft lips brushed against her hip bone and her breath caught. She opened her eyes again just as Claire pressed a second finger to her opening.
Mirela was coming undone. She was sure she was about to faint.
Her breathing was erratic as Claire calmly slipped her fingers inside of her.
She stroked her from the within, her eyes glued with hers as she watched her closely.
Mirela’s hand clutched the cloth underneath her, trying to find something to ground herself.
Her body moved on its own accord, her stomach rolling, her hips moving and if she thought she couldn’t take any more pleasure, Claire lowered her face to capture her nipple with her warm mouth.
“Cl-Claire…”
Her breath exploded in her chest. Her hand moved, capturing Claire’s wrist. Not to stop her, but to make sure that it was real, she was there, under Claire, her mouth on her body, her fingers deep inside of her, worshipping her.
“That’s it,” Claire whispered against her chest. “Reach for it, keep going.”
Mirela closed her eyes. Claire’s name escaped her once more as Claire’s fingers moved within her, the sound lewd and wet and rhythmical. She felt a hand on the back of her head, pulling her in for a deep kiss.
Being surrounded by Claire, with her fingers inside of her, her leg securely locked with hers, her lips devouring her, Mirela understood with startling clarity that if God existed at all, He had never felt as holy as this.
Another deep caress and Mirela’s lower stomach tensed as the first wave of pleasure crashed against her. It was nothing like the releases she found by her own hand, nothing like she had ever experienced, and it was all because of Claire.
Claire’s hands, Claire’s mouth, which swallowed Mirela’s orgasm. Her body quivered intensely, as everything went dark.
The usual quietness of the chamber washed over Mirela as her breathing came in loud huffs.
She opened her eyes only when she felt a kiss to her sweaty temple, and as Claire’s hands slipped from inside of her.
The other woman had a lazy yet terribly wicked smile on her lips.
Claire gave Mirela’s clit one last stroke before raising her hand so Mirela could see.
“Look how pretty,” Claire whispered, spreading her fingers wide, showing off how drenched in Mirela’s pleasure they were. “Let’s see how good you taste.” Claire said, moving her hand closer to her face and slipping her finger to her mouth.
She closed her eyes and moaned, satiated. She turned to Mirela, who quietly watched her, completely enthralled. “Do you want to taste yourself?”
Mirela was still recuperating, and hearing Claire say such things were not helping her cool off. It drove her mad with hunger. She wanted to taste Claire again.
“Well?”
Mirela nodded as Claire pulled her in for a kiss. Parting her lips, Mirela welcomed Claire’s tongue as she circled it, rubbing against her own.
“Good?” Claire asked, wiping Mirela’s lower lip with her thumb.
“Delicious,” she said. “Just like you, Claire.”
Claire smiled, breathless and satisfied until her body shuddered. The smile slipped away as her teeth began to chatter. “God,” she breathed, hugging her arms to herself.
Mirela frowned immediately and sat up. “Are you cold?”
“Freezing,” Claire admitted with a weak laugh, rubbing her bare arms.
Mirela did not hesitate. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around Claire’s shoulders, tucking it snugly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Claire barely had time to protest before Mirela pulled her closer, gathering her against her chest.
“There,” Mirela murmured, adjusting the blanket again. “I have you.”
Claire sighed, melting into her, her forehead resting beneath Mirela’s chin. “You do,” she said softly.
Mirela wrapped her arms around her fully then. She pressed a slow kiss to Claire’s hair and smiled to herself. They shifted together, settling beneath the covers, limbs tangling easily. Claire’s breathing evened out quickly, warmth returning as she curled against Mirela’s side.
Mirela stayed awake a little longer, listening to her breathing, holding her close until sleep claimed them both.