Chapter 16
The walk back to the hotel is filled with stolen kisses and touches. The slit in Charlotte’s dress is very convenient for Riley to sneak her hand in and squeeze her ass. Riley’s attire makes her body less accessible, but all the more desirable.
Takes in Riley’s hungry look while they wait for the elevator, Charlotte vaguely wonders if Riley would push the emergency stop button if she wasn’t holding Shaky.
Upon arriving back at the room, they both kick off their shoes and Charlotte quickly moves to the bathroom to put Shaky back in his playpen. When she re-emerges, she makes eye contact with Riley through the floor length mirror. Charlotte swallows when she’s beckoned with a crooked finger.
“Come here, please,” Riley rasps. Charlotte approaches like an animal willingly walking into the wide open jaws of a predator.
When she is within reach, Riley grabs her, twirls her, and presses her front to Charlotte’s back.
“Look,” she whispers, placing her chin on Charlotte’s shoulder to peer into the mirror together. Her arms slide snugly around her waist.
Charlotte’s first reflex is to close her eyes. She knows what she’ll see in the mirror, and it’s not something she needs a spotlight on. But her eyes flutter open when Riley coaxes her by squeezing her sides, and her heart skips a beat.
Staring back at her are two women. One a little taller, a little calmer, with a glint in her eyes that Charlotte could write entire essays about.
In her arms, subtly leaning into her, is the woman who looks alarmingly like herself.
In her eyes swirls a mix of dread and affection, like her body wants nothing more than to be exactly where she is, but her mind hasn’t caught up yet.
These two women aren’t friends. No, they are—but that’s not where their appreciation for each other stops.
A desire beyond just wanting to be in each other’s proximity clouds their image so heavily that Charlotte forgets to notice it might look wrong.
Maybe because it doesn’t. Maybe because wrong doesn’t exist in the world behind that mirror, where the only requirements for something being right are that it feels good and it does no harm.
What a world that would be.
“What do you see?” Riley softly husks in her ear, matching the taller mirror-woman’s moving lips.
“I see… peace,” Charlotte answers, not taking her eyes off their reflection. “I see a softness. A world without judgment.”
“Do you see happiness?”
“Yes,” is the unwavering answer. It’s her own voice, and yet the word surprises her so much that her waterline fills with tears and the image in front of her blurs.
“Know what else I see?” she adds to lighten the mood, sniffing to keep her tears from falling.
She tips her chin at Riley: “A huge dyke.”
Riley’s throaty chuckle rings through her, and her hold tightens. “I see her too,” Riley says suggestively. One eyebrow arches and Charlotte realizes she must’ve misinterpreted the implication.
“No, I meant…” You, she finishes in her mind. But as Riley’s lips purse in an attempt to let Charlotte walk into her own trap, she groans. Because Riley is right. “Two huge dykes, then.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Riley reassures her, rubbing the tip of her nose along Charlotte's ear. “There is nothing wrong with what you are.” The words ring a painful bell. Her mind dings around in her skull as Riley continues: “I don’t think any less of you.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Charlotte laughs, wiggling to free herself from Riley’s grip. Riley chooses war and digs her fingers into Charlotte’s ribs to make her double over.
“If you think I won’t hold this over you forever, you don’t know me well enough, Charlie.”
“Stop!” Charlotte screeches, and to her surprise, the tickling fingers come to a halt near her hips. “I think I deserve some credit for coming around, don’t you?” she says, slightly out of breath.
Riley hums and plants a kiss to the skin right behind Charlotte’s ear, making her shiver.
For a moment, she wants to pretend it doesn’t affect her, but what comes out of her mouth is a hissed command: “Do that again.” Riley complies obediently and kisses her once moree as her hands sneak up Charlotte’s body until the palms rest just beneath her breasts.
“What you deserve... is patience, care, attention…”
“And your fingers on my clit?” Charlotte interjects with a hopeful expression, unable to stay composed while Riley is saying and doing the most wonderful things to her.
It’s a clear challenge, one Riley gladly accepts. Keeping their gaze locked through the mirror, Riley slips the fingers of her right hand past the slit in Charlotte’s dress, tracing teasing circles over the skin of her hip.
“Ask me to touch you,” she says, her voice brimming with contained horniness.
Charlotte doesn’t hesitate. “Touch me, Ri. Please.”
To watch the woman in the mirror ask for something so unconventional is odd for a second, but soon makes her heartbeat pick up to almost double the pace.
She sees and feels it happen; lithe fingers effortlessly slipping past the waistband of her nearly non-existent thong, teasingly scratching through the coarse hair on her mound.
Riley’s other hand moves up to cup a breast, and a deep groan marks the moment she finds out about Charlotte’s lack of a bra.
“You feel amazing,” Riley purrs, the hand by Charlotte’s pussy touching her everywhere but where she needs her most.
“Do I?” Charlotte chokes out. “I think it feels even better—” She stuffs her own hand under her dress to find Riley’s scrutinizing fingers, and presses down to make them touch her clit. “...right here,” she moans, letting her head drop back on Riley’s shoulder.
Watching Charlotte’s blissful state through the mirror seems to make Riley’s teasing mood instantly vanish, and she starts rubbing perfect little circles around her clit. Every time she hits her most sensitive spot, Charlotte gasps and her whole body jolts in Riley’s arms.
“Not to be the asshole who has to remind you,” Riley says, clearly not unaffected either going off of her strained breaths. “But darling, you were made for this.”
Charlotte mewls; whether it’s at the words or the pet name she doesn’t know, but she doesn’t have it in her to disagree.
Her eyes keep falling closed, and every time she opens them, she watches Riley bring her to ruin in the mirror before her.
Not only does it feel incredible—it looks insanely hot too.
Her peak approaches so fast, she doesn’t even have time to be embarrassed about it.
“I’m gonna come. Fuck, Ri, I’m coming,” she whimpers, almost making it sound like a prayer. The last thing she sees before she loses her vision and her legs give out, is Riley’s jaw dropping in quiet admiration.
Her orgasm doesn’t feel like one big explosion, but rather like a million little ones, sending her over the edge again and again as her knees buckle and Riley has to grip her waist to keep her from falling.
When the overwhelming feeling slowly dissipates but her muscle strength hasn’t returned yet, she squeezes Riley’s arm to let her know it’s okay, and she gently helps her land on her knees.
After one last look in the mirror—face flushed, hair a mess—Charlotte turns around and looks up at Riley, who is almost vibrating with anticipation.
“Can I taste you now?” Charlotte all but begs. The sight of her on her knees, asking to go down on Riley must’ve short-circuited something in her brain; Riley’s eyes go wide and vaguely remind Charlotte of a slot machine landing on a triple pussy.
Riley nods hastily, already walking backwards and stuttering: “Let’s… bed. Want you t-to be comfortable.” As the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, she starts fumbling with the button of her slacks.
“Hey,” Charlotte protests weakly, crawling in her direction. “Stop that. ‘S my job.”
“Oh yeah?” Riley taunts her, not letting up. “So come get it.”
Charlotte pauses mid-crawl and decides to take off her dress to increase her own range of motion. Riley looks like she is about to drool at the sight, so Charlotte puffs out her chest for show.
When she reaches Riley, Charlotte doesn’t waste a second yaking on the zipper of her pants and tugging them down to her knees, after which she pats on the bed for Riley to take a seat.
Riley meekly follows her command, causing her chest now to be within Charlotte’s reach.
She unbuttons the waistcoat to make Riley’s breasts come into view, but decides it has to stay on.
Riley whines when Charlotte takes her slacks the rest of the way off and positions herself in between Riley’s legs. She soothes her impatience by scraping her nails along the inside of her thighs.
Taking a page from Riley’s signature teasingly slow pace, she hooks her fingers in the gusset of her panties to get a feel for how badly she wants her.
“Insatiable,” she teases, getting higher up on her knees to lean in for a kiss.
Riley weakly complains against her lips. “So are you going to get to work, or what?”
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Charlotte’s reservations about putting her mouth between Riley’s legs are still there. But her curiosity, her flaming desire, and most of all; her urgent need to taste her and make her feel good are much, much more present.
Without giving it any more thought, she lifts the fingers that had been buried in Riley’s wetness to her own mouth. She sticks her tongue out to lap up her taste, unintentionally giving Riley a show. She only realizes the pornographic gesture when she watches Riley turn crimson.
The flavor pretty comparable to her own, except there’s a deep, heady touch of pure Riley to it.
“You could’ve told me you’re this delicious, you know,” she says while snobbishly raising her eyebrows, giving her fingers another lick for good measure.