Chapter Twenty Five
T illy’s flat was a tiny little oasis of calm after the bustle of the main house. The walls were white, the bed was neatly made, and there was a little line of shoes by the front door, all paired and clean. Just the sight of it made Sophie smile.
The whole place smelled of her, a clean, soapy kind of smell, and Sophie sat demurely on the edge of the bed waiting. She wasn’t nervous. This all seemed like it was ordained. When she heard Tilly’s footsteps on the stairs, her heart started to beat harder.
“Okay, they’re both asleep,” Tilly said. “And I left a note for Mila saying that I’d gone to bed. So… we should have some privacy.”
“Finally,” Sophie said.
“Finally,” said Tilly, leaning against the doorframe. She ran a hand through her blonde curls and bit her lip. “We said no expectations.”
“We did,” Sophie agreed.
“You look very beautiful sitting on the bed.” Tilly looked down at her feet, cheeks going pink.
“You look very beautiful propping up the doorframe,” said Sophie. She got up and walked toward Tilly, reaching out her hand. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re nervous.”
“Me? Nervous?” Tilly took her hand, palm warm. “I thought you were…”
Sophie shook her head. “Not in the slightest.”
“So, um…” Tilly swallowed. “So, everything is consensual?”
Sophie grinned. “How about I let you know if I want to stop? That way, you won’t have to ask for consent every step of the way.” She had a feeling that Tilly would if she needed to. Maybe that was why she felt so safe here.
“Thank god,” Tilly muttered.
Then she was pulling at Sophie’s hand, dragging her closer and turning, closing the front door and pressing Sophie up against it in one graceful move.
“Thank god?” Sophie asked. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’ve been wanting to do this all evening,” Tilly groaned.
Her hands skirted up the sides of Sophie’s body until there was a palm on either side of her face and then Tilly leaned in, pressing her lips against Sophie’s, parting her lips, exploring with her tongue as Sophie grew increasingly breathless.
She let her hands take Tilly’s waist, pull her in even closer, until she could feel every possible inch of Tilly pressed up against her. Until she had to break the kiss. “This is no good,” she muttered.
Tilly jumped back an entire foot. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, looking shocked and pale.
Sophie watched her, shaking her head. “Okay, we need to establish something here. I want to be here. I want to be with you. In fact, what I was just complaining about was the fact that we’re both wearing far too many clothes, not about the kissing or anything else it might lead to.”
“You were?” Tilly’s color came back.
“Very much so.”
Tilly started to smile. “Okay, right, sorry, I just…”
“Bit nervous?” Sophie asked.
Tilly nodded. “I don’t know why. I’ve definitely done this before. Just this time seems a bit more important somehow.”
“Because there are feelings involved,” Sophie said, stepping forward to take Tilly’s hand. “It makes the stakes a bit higher, doesn’t it?”
Tilly nodded again.
“But I have your full consent, right?”
Another nod.
“Good,” Sophie said. With steady, cool hands, she started to unbutton Tilly’s shirt. She slid the material off her shoulders, pausing to kiss Tilly’s sharp collarbone before moving downward. Dropping to her knees, she unbuttoned Tilly’s pants as Tilly’s hands started to curl in her hair.
Sophie felt the familiar bubbling between her legs, the heat in her stomach as Tilly pressed her head toward her underwear. She could smell her, the damp scent of her, and her mouth started to water.
Carefully, she reached up and pulled Tilly’s underwear down. Even more carefully, she leaned in, dropping a kiss on Tilly’s tight curls. Then she took a deep breath, drinking in Tilly’s scent, and stood up. Slowly, she had to do this slowly. Even if she wanted to throw Tilly straight onto the bed and have her way with her.
“What…” started Tilly.
Sophie silenced her with a kiss and then tugged off her own t-shirt and shucked off her jeans and knickers as quickly as she could. Until she and Tilly were standing in front of each other, Sophie in her bra, Tilly in her bra and shirt.
She heard Tilly gasp as she reached behind and unclasped her bra, taking it off and throwing it to the floor. She saw Tilly start to reach out and then stop herself. So she reached out, arms snaking behind Tilly’s back and undoing her bra, letting it drop, so that they were both completely naked.
Tilly was so pale, her legs long and muscled, her stomach flat and rippled. Sophie swallowed, trying to take it all in, comparing Tilly’s obvious fitness to her own rounded belly, her own full breasts, her own dimpled thighs and coming up lacking until Tilly groaned.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Me?” Sophie asked, surprised.
“Christ, yes,” mumbled Tilly.
Sophie held her head a little higher and stepped forward until the tips of her breasts were touching Tilly’s. Tilly snatched in a breath and finally, Sophie allowed herself to kiss her. Allowed herself to press up against Tilly, to feel every inch of her soft, naked skin, every curve and point of her.
She molded her body against Tilly’s until they were both panting and beginning to sweat, until she could bear it no longer, until she pushed backward and Tilly fell onto the bed. She dropped to her knees this time, determined not to deny herself anything.
Tilly’s hands came back to her hair, tangling her fingers there as she directed Sophie’s head between her legs. Sophie’s hands parted Tilly’s firm thighs and her lips kissed up the inside of sensitive skin. She took a deep, shaking breath and breathed in all of Tilly’s scent, and Tilly said just one word.
“Please.”
It broke Sophie. She could restrain herself no longer. She pressed herself against Tilly’s sex, feeling wetness on her chin and mouth as she used her tongue to part Tilly’s folds and Tilly’s fingers tightened around her hair, pulling her ever closer.
Tilly was already wet, already swollen and waiting and ready. Sophie found her hard bump and sucked at it, tracing her tongue around it in tight circles as Tilly raised her hips up to meet her mouth.
Sophie let her fingers trace up the inside of Tilly’s thigh and was rewarded with a gasp that deepened into a moan as those same fingers slid up inside Tilly’s wetness. She pushed her hand to the hilt as Tilly rose to meet her, pressing her tongue hard against Tilly until something crashed over her and Tilly was moaning and shaking and clutching at Sophie’s hair.
She waited until Tilly was still again, until the heartbeat against her tongue had settled, and then she moved back. “Okay?”
Tilly laughed. “Okay? That was slightly more than okay, I should think.” Then she looked worriedly down at Sophie’s face between her legs. “Wasn’t it?”
Sophie licked her lips slowly and then smiled. “Oh, I should say so.”
Tilly groaned again, eyes dark with lust, and reaching down, took both Sophie’s hands, pulling her up and on top of her until Sophie was astride her hips on the low bed.
Tilly never broke eye contact, her eyes never wavering as she ran both hands over Sophie’s thighs, as she reached the center point and parted Sophie’s folds with her thumbs.
Sophie gasped at such close contact. So close and yet not enough. She shifted her hips.
“Patience,” Tilly whispered, still gazing into her eyes.
“I don’t have any.”
Tilly smiled a small, secret smile. “I’ve heard it’s a virtue.”
“I definitely don’t have any of that,” Sophie said, breath coming faster as Tilly slid a hand down between them.
“I can see that,” Tilly said with a lazy grin. “I find it quite appealing, to be honest.”
Then she was curling her fingers up so that they slid inside Sophie, so that she could impale herself down on them, as her thumb curved upwards to rub against her. Sophie pressed herself against that thumb and then, slowly at first, very slowly, began to move her hips.
She stared down into Tilly’s eyes, hips moving, warmth building up inside her, breath coming faster, pulse starting to pound, determined to watch the desire spreading across Tilly’s face. Determined to see the redness of her cheeks, the sparkle of her eyes, the way her lips swelled, determined to drink her in.
But she couldn’t control herself, couldn’t stop her hips moving faster, couldn’t stop the explosion that was so inevitable.
Tilly reached up with her free hand, letting her thumb graze Sophie’s dark nipple. Sophie bit her lip, but Tilly continued, pinching her nipple and it was more than Sophie could take.
Again and again she crushed herself against Tilly’s hand, again and again until the stars exploded and her eyes slammed shut and she could control herself no longer.
She cried out, shuddering and shaking against Tilly’s hand, aware of nothing other than the sensations running through her, washing over her, taking over her.
At the end, Tilly sat up, her hand still in place, her other arm holding Sophie against her, her cheek pressing against Sophie’s stomach, holding her until her breath started to even out, until she was finally able to form words again.
“Jesus,” was the first word that came out.
“Don’t think he had much to do with this,” Tilly said, tilting backward so that Sophie could see her face.
“No,” said Sophie with a grin. “No, probably not.”
“Are you tired?” Tilly asked.
“Not a bit.”
“Oh good.”
“Why?” asked Sophie.
“Because I don’t think I’m done yet,”
Sophie swung her leg back over Tilly’s body and snuggled down so that she was lying beside her, head on her chest. “I’m not sure that I am either,” she said. Her tongue snaked out and licked the tip of Tilly’s pink nipple.
Tilly gasped. “Glad we’re on the same page,” she said.
“Glad we’re finally on the same bed,” said Sophie. Then she busied her mouth doing things that weren’t talking.