Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Dylan sat up, still bare-ass naked on the kitchen table, her bones rubbery and loose. She watched Ramona walk into the bedroom, that perfect ass bouncing as she went.
She missed her already.
Which sounded ridiculous.
And completely sane all at the same time.
Dylan didn’t know how to talk to Ramona’s about her new job with Noelle. Didn’t know how to ask for more details, because she was terrified to know the answers.
Over the past few weeks, she and Ramona had shared more of their lives—they’d talked about Dylan’s experiences growing up, and Ramona had told her more about Rebecca Riley, and how it had felt when her mother left and never looked back, about the birthday cards she’d received for herself and Olive. Cards that petered out after about four years. Cards she’d hidden from Olive, a guilt she carried.
They’d shared so much, and yet Dylan never really asked about Ramona’s dreams. What she wanted . She was Ramona of Clover Lake. She seemed to belong here—she seemed to be happy here. And really, any question about the future, be it jobs or dream cities to live in, made Dylan feel lost and empty.
Lonely.
Because she didn’t want this to end with Ramona, no matter how it had started.
“Babe?” she called, because she needed Ramona closer. Needed her pressed to her skin, her breath in her ear.
“Patience!” Ramona called back, but then appeared in the doorway.
Dylan sucked in a breath.
Ramona was still gloriously naked—those full breasts and soft tummy, thick thighs Dylan almost always wanted closing around her ears—but she also had on the underwear-style harness she’d left here a few nights ago.
And situated in the O-ring was Frankie.
Frankie was Dylan’s favorite dildo. She had a quirky habit of naming all her dildos and sex toys with monikers she felt carried Big Dyke Energy. Frankie, which had this perfect ridge about halfway down that made Dylan crazy, seemed like exactly the kind of dildo someone would wear to fuck someone good and proper. Ramona found this story hilarious, but she also couldn’t deny Dylan’s logic, especially after the first time Dylan had used it to fuck her into oblivion.
“Jesus,” Dylan said as Ramona walked toward her, her cunt already throbbing and ready. “Did you put on the bumper?”
“I did,” Ramona said, stepping up to the table, sliding her hands down Dylan’s thighs.
“Good,” Dylan said, grabbing Ramona’s hips. “Because I want you to come inside me.”
Ramona just tilted her head, her eyes soft. Dylan reached out and pushed Frankie against Ramona, watching as her eyes fluttered closed as the bumper—a textured silicone cover for the base of the dildo, kind of like a glove—rubbed against her clit.
“Good girl,” Dylan said.
That’s what she wanted right now. Ramona’s mouth against hers while they fucked, breaths mingling and indistinguishable.
Dylan spread her legs and scooted to the edge of the table, then pulled Ramona as close as she could get her. Ramona held Frankie, positioning the dildo at Dylan’s opening. Dylan had to lean back a little, but soon they got the angle right and Ramona slid inside her.
Dylan moaned, her head tilting back. The cock was so thick, almost too much, but just right at the same time.
“God,” she said, lifting her head and pulling Ramona’s hips toward her, pulling her even deeper inside her. She slid her hands down Ramona’s ass, squeezing her flesh, while Ramona tangled her hands in Dylan’s hair, angling her mouth to fit against hers.
They kissed, whispering fuck and more as they pumped their hips into each other. Sweat slicked beneath their fingers, and Dylan had the fleeting thought that they’d have to make sure they cleaned this table thoroughly, but that was later, that was after, and this was now, which was all Dylan wanted.
She wanted this and now and didn’t want to think even ten minutes into the future, when Ramona wouldn’t be inside her, wouldn’t have her forehead pressed against her, wouldn’t be breathing heavily with her own pleasure, wouldn’t be whispering Dylan’s name like a prayer.
Dylan felt herself growing wild, desperate to come, but not wanting to at the same time, because she didn’t want this to end.
She didn’t want any of it to end.
“Baby,” Dylan said, because her orgasm was building anyway, a slow swell, her heart pounding faster as her fingernails dug into Ramona’s ass. “Fuck.”
“I want you to come,” Ramona said, her hands tightening in Dylan’s hair. “Come for me. You’re so beautiful when you come for me.”
“God,” Dylan said, pressing her mouth to Ramona’s. She wanted to come like that, breathing her in. She swirled her hips, pulling Ramona deeper, making sure that bumper hit her in just the right spot. “With me. Please.”
Then it was just sounds, honeyed breathing and moaning until Dylan lit up, a flash flood through her blood and muscle and bone. She cried out into Ramona’s mouth, and Ramona did the same, her body stuttering into Dylan’s as she came too.
They stayed like that for a while, just breathing, hearts hammering together on that kitchen table, clinging to each other and not daring to move.
Not daring to break the beautiful spell of now .