Chapter 13 Sienna
SIENNA
The orgasm was still moving through her in slow, diminishing waves when Elise's mouth returned between her legs.
Sienna gasped. Her body was sensitised, every nerve ending exposed and lit. The first touch of Elise's tongue against her clit sent a jolt through her so sharp that her thighs clamped together involuntarily. Elise eased them apart with her hand, gentle but firm, and settled back between them.
"Too much?" Elise asked, her lips against Sienna's inner thigh.
"Almost. Not quite." Sienna's voice came out in fragments. Her body was deciding for her, overriding the part of her brain that said she was too sensitised, that this couldn't possibly work again so soon. Her hips were already tilting toward Elise's mouth.
Elise understood. She started softer this time, her tongue barely touching, light glancing strokes that let Sienna's body adjust to being touched again.
The gentleness was almost worse than the pressure, because it made Sienna want more.
She gripped the sofa cushion and pressed her head back against the armrest and breathed through the slow, building intensity of it.
Elise was between her legs, her good hand on Sienna's thigh, her mouth working with the same patience and focus she'd brought to the first round.
But this time was different. Slower. More intentional.
As if the first orgasm had been a door opening and now Elise was walking through it, exploring what lay on the other side.
Then Elise's fingers joined her tongue.
Two fingers, pressing slowly inside, and the fullness of it made Sienna's entire body arch off the sofa.
She was so wet there was no resistance, just the slow, perfect slide of Elise's fingers filling her, and a sound tore from her throat that she didn't recognise.
Raw and guttural and nothing like any noise she had ever made in front of another person.
Elise's fingers began to move in a slow, curling rhythm that matched the strokes of her tongue. The curl hit a spot inside Sienna that made her vision dissolve at the edges.
"Good?" Elise murmured against her, and the vibration of the word sent a fresh pulse of heat through Sienna's body.
"Yes." Her voice was wrecked. "God, yes."
Elise built her slowly. The fingers inside her moved with a slow, curling pressure that found the spot that made Sienna's vision blur, and her tongue kept its rhythm, constant and relentless, and the combination was devastating.
The second orgasm was building, different from the first, deeper, a gathering pressure that started in her core and spread outward through her hips and thighs and stomach.
She'd never been touched like this. Not with this combination of skill and tenderness, not with this absolute focus on her pleasure.
She'd had sex before. Three women, over twenty years.
Brief encounters that had been more mechanical than meaningful, bodies meeting in the dark, hands going through motions.
She had never come with a partner before.
She'd assumed the problem was her. Too controlled.
Too guarded. Too locked inside her own head to let go of the overthinking and be present in her body.
She'd read articles about it, clinical articles in clinical journals, about the connection between emotional repression and sexual responsiveness, and she'd noted them with the same detached interest she brought to all self-analysis and then filed them away.
But Elise was proving every assumption wrong.
The problem had never been Sienna's body.
Her body was responsive and sensitive and desperate for exactly this.
The problem had been that no one had ever touched her with this kind of patience.
No one had ever looked at her the way Elise was looking at her now, with awe and hunger and a tenderness that made her chest ache.
Elise was learning her. Reading every gasp, every shift of her hips, every tightening of her fingers in the sofa cushion, and adjusting.
She was learning Sienna's body with her tongue and her fingers and her attention, cataloguing what worked and building on it.
When Sienna's breathing quickened, Elise increased the pressure.
When her thighs began to shake, Elise gripped her harder, holding her steady.
When the sounds Sienna was making went from moans to cries, sharp and broken and nothing like the controlled, quiet woman she presented to the world, Elise didn't slow down.
The orgasm hit like a wave breaking against a seawall.
Sienna's back bowed off the sofa, every muscle in her body locking at once, and she came around Elise's fingers with a force that shook her whole body.
Her mouth opened on a silent cry. The pleasure was blinding, white and total, and it went on and on, pulsing through her in long, cresting surges that made her legs shake and her stomach clench and her fingers dig into the sofa cushion hard enough to leave marks.
Elise held her fingers still inside her, letting Sienna's body pulse around them, and pressed soft, grounding kisses against her inner thigh. Each kiss was an anchor, a point of contact that kept Sienna tethered to the world while the orgasm rolled through her in diminishing waves.
When the last aftershock faded, Sienna's body released all at once.
Her muscles went liquid. Her grip on the cushion loosened.
Her head fell back against the armrest and she stared at the ceiling, breathing in long, shuddering drags, and the ceiling was just a ceiling but it looked different somehow, as if the world had shifted on its axis while she wasn't paying attention.
When the world came back, Sienna was trembling.
Her legs were shaking. Her face was wet with tears she didn't remember shedding, and her hands were cramped from gripping the sofa cushion.
The apartment was dark and quiet except for the sound of their breathing, hers ragged and unsteady, and Elise's, warm against her thigh, where her head rested.
Elise looked up at her. Her eyes were dark and her chin was wet and her expression was one of quiet, fierce adoration. She kissed the inside of Sienna's thigh, then another higher up, against the crease of her hip.
"You are the most incredible woman I've ever met," Elise said. Her voice was husky and quiet and full of reverence that made Sienna's throat close. "Do you know how beautiful you look right now? Do you have any idea?"
Sienna shook her head. She couldn't speak. The emotion was too close to the surface, too large for words.
"You're stunning." Elise kissed her hip again. "You taste so good. And the sounds you make..." She trailed off and pressed her forehead against Sienna's stomach, her breath warm against Sienna's skin. "I could listen to you for the rest of my life."
Heat flooded Sienna's face and spread down her neck, across her chest. She'd never been spoken to like this during sex.
She'd barely been spoken to at all during sex.
Her previous partners had been as restrained as she was, the encounters efficient and physical and over quickly.
None of them had told her she was beautiful while their face was between her legs.
None of them had looked at her the way Elise was looking at her now, as if she was precious.
"I can't believe what that felt like," Sienna whispered.
Her voice was rough, raw, nothing like the steady tone she used in the medical suite.
She pressed her palm over her eyes because the vulnerability of what she was about to say was enormous and she wasn't sure she could say it while looking at Elise.
"I've never... I didn't know it could be like that.
I thought there was something wrong with me. "
Elise shifted up the sofa and pressed her lips to Sienna's collarbone. "Wrong with you?"
"I've been with women before. But it was never.
.." She dropped her hand from her eyes and looked at Elise, and Elise's face was so full of tenderness that Sienna's chest constricted.
"I thought I was broken. I thought I was too controlled.
Too in my head. That I couldn't let go enough to feel what other people felt. "
"You're not broken," Elise said. Her voice was fierce and quiet. "You were never broken, Sienna. You just needed someone who took the time."
Elise's expression softened further. The fierceness dissolved into tenderness, and the tenderness in her eyes made Sienna's own sting.
She turned her head and kissed the inside of Sienna's thigh, a slow, tender press of lips against the soft skin.
Then her mouth moved lower, to Sienna's knee, and then to her calf, and then to her ankle.
The kisses were unhurried and thorough, tracing a path down Sienna's leg with a level of care that made Sienna's stomach clench with fresh desire.
Then Elise shifted lower, cradling Sienna's foot in her good hand, and pressed her lips to the arch.
The touch was soft and unhurried, the same tenderness brought to an entirely unexpected place.
The sensation radiated upward through Sienna's calf and thigh in a sharp, electric line, and she understood what Elise was saying without words: every part of you.
Elise's mouth began to travel upward. Ankle.
Calf. The tender spot behind her knee, where Sienna gasped and her leg trembled and Elise smiled against her skin.
The inside of her thigh, where Elise's tongue drew slow, wet lines against the soft skin.
She kissed the thin, sensitive skin there, sucking gently, and Sienna's hips lifted off the sofa.
Higher. Closer. Elise's mouth was a slow-building inevitability, each kiss a step closer to where Sienna's body was aching for her. The anticipation was excruciating and exquisite and her own wetness slicked her inner thighs and her body was trembling with the effort of staying still.