Chapter 2 #2
“I kind of think Neve would do the murdering herself, then call for a clean-up. But I did actually mean her, in general. Neve and also Audrey, and her talent for complex things made simple, as seen in the fairy lights. Chiara and her ability to see the good in the world, to focus on the shine of it. Vi and her eye for detail and for making things happen. Arabella for calling cunts out all day, every day. Renate for ensuring Arabella stays alive with that propensity to open her mouth in all the wrong places. Katarina and Juliette for always making us grateful for what we have, and to aspire to a love for the ages. Olivia and her ability to safeguard everything and everyone all at once. I meant our entire circle.”
Vivian pulled Jamie closer.
“I love you for including Olivia.”
Jamie’s laughter was only slightly rueful.
“She makes your life easy, even if she doesn’t approve of me. And so I suffer her jabs about my eating habits in silence. Or working habits. Or sleeping habits.”
“What is this about your sleeping habits, darling? Last I checked, I and only I should be concerned about those. And from where I am sitting—or should I say reclining —your sleeping habits are just about perfect. Even if you do tend to sleep on the very edge of the bed, far away from me.”
Jamie’s face was a portrait of scandal.
“Away from you? You hoard the covers and the bed and push me all the way to the very end of it, and somehow I am at fault here? I will not mention that Levitan is given more space than I am.”
Vivian waved her fingers at her wife.
“What utter defamation of character of a prince among dogs. He barely takes any space at all.”
Jamie gaped.
“He’s eighty pounds!”
Vivian shrugged.
“He’s just a baby.”
Jamie scowled.
“I think it’s time we get a cat. Secretary Nox has one. He is an angel. A ginger slice of angelic being.”
Vivian shook her head.
“Levitan is not a fan of cats, otherwise we would discuss this. I do like Chiara’s feline. A perfect chocolate brioche.”
“What I like about Binoche is that she keeps biting and swiping at everyone Chiara dislikes, and all Chiara has to do is just shrug and say ‘oh, she’s just being a cat, what can you do?’”
Vivian smiled at the memory of watching Arabella try to pacify the hissing nuisance with caviar, just to ingratiate herself with the finicky creature.
“Arabella gets her ankles scratched regularly, despite the many sacrifices she’s made on the altar of that cat. I love it.”
They laughed, the sound filling the air with ebullience.
“Even Neve had to pay a tax so Binoche would leave her alone, and she still gives her a wide berth, in case all that tuna was for nothing. Yet you never had to feed Binoche anything.” Jamie ran her fingers through Vivian’s hair, gripping the ends lightly at first, then harder.
Vivian suppressed a moan, almost. It cost her to keep the sound at bay.
“I guess I have a way with pus—” Jamie gasped and then covered Vivian’s mouth with her palm.
“Oh my god, you were not about to say it!”
Vivian bit the skin pressing down on her mouth, and Jamie yelped, pulling her hand away.
Then Vivian brought it back and very deliberately, slowly licked the spot she had bitten, delighting when Jamie’s eyes darkened with desire.
Jokes were okay, but desire? The raw, slightly dangerous feel of it in her wife’s eyes?
Vivian shuddered, her skin suddenly electrified, her clothes too tight.
“I was about to say that I have a way with pussy. Yours in particular, darling.”
Jamie’s mouth twisted, and before Vivian knew what was happening, she was being lifted by a strong set of arms and sat on the kitchen table, the sturdy, century-old oak holding her safely. The possessive, rough hands of her wife made quick work of lifting her skirt.
Vivian smirked again. She had always taken pride in how she dressed, every outfit a shield, a costume for the world, her calling card, in fact.
And yet, seeing Jamie’s want spike every time she unwrapped her like a present, always delighting in what she’d find under her clothes, was a special treat.
Garters might be outdated. Might not be practical. But Jamie touching Vivian’s so reverently, all but devouring them with her eyes? That made up for all the practical reasoning. For all the practicality, the feral look in Jamie’s eyes was worth everything.
That look did things to Vivian.
“Jameson—”
She was cut off by a calloused palm again covering her mouth, even as Jamie’s own descended to the gusset of her thong without preamble.
Vivian’s moan was more of a muffled scream.
She turned her head to the side and sucked Jamie’s fingers in, mimicking her wife’s rhythm.
Her thong was torn off her, and with a look of triumph, Jamie covered her, licked her, devoured her in greedy bites, alternating between long and tempered and quick and focused.
That amazing tongue. Nothing compared. Until Jamie pulled her fingers free of Vivian’s mouth and into her own, giving them a slow lick, before running them up and down swollen, hungry lips and finally piercing her, entering her, one, then two, then three fingers… This time Vivian did scream.
She wanted to come and knew she’d need more.
More than thrusts, more than the twist of fingertips, more than the push and pull.
But Jameson, cruel, cruel Jameson, watched her own hand work, in and out, lifting her eyes to Vivian’s face, bearing witness to her struggle, watched her labor towards something unattainable and smirked…
Smirked! The gall! The sheer unfairness!
Vivian whimpered, bit her lip at the indignity, then decided perhaps a smidge of said indignity was de rigueur. She could do it. She wanted to come so badly, after all. The fucking romance of lights turned her brain to mush and her now torn thong to a wet mess.
“Please… Jameson…”
The smirk widened. Dammit.
“Ah, here is the pleading then. I see you have moved quickly through the repertoire. You must be a bit desperate, wife of mine. You thought driving me mad with those pouty lips, gentle caresses, cuss words would get you what you want fast. But where is the fun in that?”
Jamie thrust harder, and Vivian lost her balance, dropping to her elbows on the wide table.
“I asked you a question.” Another thrust and Vivian’s vision grayed at the edges.
Surely she would not be able to come this way, surely…
Her thighs trembled. Jamie hooked her fingers to the front wall again and dragged them out slowly.
Kissed her hip bone. Bit and then sucked hard, marking, bruising, delighting.
“More, oh god, more!”
“You are not in charge here, wife. And you have not answered the question. I can stop…”
Vivian almost blacked out.
“No! No! What was the question?”
Jamie’s laughter was tender, soft, and she kissed the now red skin before trailing her mouth closer to where Vivian wanted her most.
“I think in light—pun intended—of the lights and the occasion, I will spare you the torture, but only this once. No more questions. Or perhaps just two more, my love. Do you want to come?”
Vivian nearly pulled her own hair out.
“Yes! Yes! Please—”
“Such a good girl, Vivian. My wife. Mine. So good, so polite. And now for the last question. What do you need?”
Jamie’s mouth was just a breath from Vivian’s swollen, aching, so-wet-she-could-hear-the-fingers-moving-inside-her pussy. And she was close. So close, just like this. And yet she was so greedy, she wanted it now. She knew, one lick, one precise lick to her clit, and she’d be there and yet…
“Keep going, just keep going… I want to try. A new memory. A new light. Here. Like this. With you. Fuck me, Jameson.”
And Jameson did. Slow, deep thrusts, alternating with hard, fast ones, always hitting her exactly where she needed it, always pressing at the very root of her.
No, Vivian DeVor had never come by vaginal stimulation alone and yet here she was…
Spread on the kitchen table, taking three fingers with her wife whispering endearments and words of praise, whipping up a frenzy with each “good girl”.
.. God, her entire being was now focused on those fingertips, on those whispering lips and then…
“You are taking me so well… So well… Vivian… Mine… Come for me!”
It was the command, whiplike in the hoarse tone that did it. She fell off the cliff, everything inside her letting go, everything inside her flying free, and then Jamie’s mouth descended again. Without warning, without a word, Vivian was a spring, coiled, tightened…
“Jameson! Jameson, my love, my life, I can’t… I can’t… I can’t!”
She could and she did. The second orgasm hit her like a freight train, leaving her boneless. Jameson dragged her down from the table, cradling her in her lap, holding her through the aftershocks, kissing her forehead, gathering her hair to the side of her neck.
The words of praise were gentle.
“You were so good… So good for me. My love. My life.”
Vivian lifted a trembling hand and caressed Jamie’s cheek before dropping it again.
“I hope you have many of those bulbs, darling. I have some ideas for more memories.”
Jamie’s laughter was pure joy. The lights blinked and sparkled around them, none brighter than her wife’s eyes.