Chapter 16 #2
Minutes passed, maybe longer. The city hummed below them, and the air conditioning cycled on and off, and Astoria's breathing slowly steadied into something that matched Miller's.
She became aware of the places where their bodies touched: Miller's thigh between hers, the soft press of breasts against her own, the heat of skin on skin.
It wasn't urgent. It was just...present.
A reminder that they were both here, both choosing this.
Astoria turned her head, her lips brushing Miller's collarbone. She felt Miller's breath catch, just slightly, a small hitch that sent warmth pooling low in her stomach.
She lifted her face to find Miller already watching her.
“Is this okay?” Astoria asked, and her voice came out rough. “I don’t know if I… After everything I just…”
“Hey.” Miller’s thumb traced her cheekbone. “We don’t have to do anything. I mean it. We can just stay like this.”
“I know.” Astoria swallowed. “But I don’t want to just stay like this. I was—”
She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t find the right words for what she wanted, which was something that felt impossible: to be touched by someone who had just seen the worst of her history and hadn’t flinched. To find out if sex felt different on the other side of that kind of honesty.
Miller leaned in, and the kiss was slow and questioning—is this okay, is this what you need, I’m here—and Astoria answered by pulling her closer.
Astoria’s fingers threaded into Miller’s hair, tugging just enough to angle her head back, deepening the kiss with a hunger that surprised even her.
The vulnerability from her confession lingered like a shadow, but here, skin to skin under the rumpled sheets, it twisted into something fiercer: a need to claim this moment, to rewrite the ache of her past with the heat of the now.
Miller’s lips parted willingly, her breath hitching as Astoria’s tongue swept in, tasting of salt and the faint mint from earlier, exploring with deliberate strokes that made Miller’s body arch instinctively.
She pressed closer, their naked forms sliding together, their breasts brushing in a way that sent sparks racing down Astoria’s spine.
Her hands roamed, one sliding down Miller’s back to cup the curve of her ass, squeezing firmly, pulling her hips flush against her own.
Miller gasped into the kiss, her own hands mirroring the motion, her nails grazing lightly over Astoria’s body, tracing the lines of muscles earned from years of pushing herself to extremes.
The kiss broke only for Astoria to nip at Miller’s lower lip, a sharp, teasing bite that drew a soft moan.
“Fuck,” Miller whispered, her voice raw and eyes half-lidded in the low glow of the bedside lamp. Astoria smiled against her skin, trailing kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat, savoring the way Miller’s pulse fluttered under her mouth.
Astoria shifted, rolling Miller onto her back with a gentle but insistent push, her high cheekbones catching the light as she hovered above.
She captured Miller’s mouth again, this time slower, more sensual, their tongues dancing in a rhythm that built like a storm.
Her free hand wandered lower, skimming over Miller’s ribs, her thumb brushing the underside of her breast before cupping it fully, circling her thumb over the hardening nipple.
Miller arched into the touch, her legs parting slightly under the covers, inviting more.
Astoria obliged, her mouth leaving Miller’s to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, nipping at the sensitive spot just below her ear.
“I love that you’re so fucking pliant for me,” Astoria murmured, her voice a low rumble against Miller’s skin.
She squeezed the breast in her hand, rolling the nipple between her fingers until Miller whimpered, then soothed it with her tongue, sucking gently.
Miller’s hands pawed at Astoria’s shoulders, pulling her closer, her nails digging in just enough to leave faint red trails.
The air between them thickened, charged with the scent of their arousal, the sheets whispering as they shifted.
Astoria’s hand drifted lower, tracing the dip of Miller’s hip, then sliding between her thighs.
She paused there, her fingers teasing the inner skin, feeling the heat radiating from Miller’s core.
Their eyes met, Astoria’s gaze steady and searching, still that quiet question from the kiss but now laced with desire and command.
Miller nodded, biting her lip, and Astoria’s fingers finally dipped in, finding her slick and ready.
She started slow, one finger circling Miller’s clit with feather-light pressure, watching her face contort in pleasure.
“Oh god, Astoria,” Miller breathed, her hips bucking up to meet the touch.
Astoria leaned down, capturing her lips in another deep kiss, swallowing the moan as she slipped a finger inside, then two, curling them just right to stroke that spot that made Miller’s whole body tense.
The rhythm built, sensual and deep, Astoria’s thumb pressing against her clit in tandem, drawing out gasps and shudders.
Miller’s hands roamed relentlessly, one tangling in Astoria’s hair, the other squeezing her ass, pulling her impossibly closer as if she could merge their bodies into one.
Not just content to touch, Astoria kissed her way down, nipping at Miller’s collarbone, her stomach, the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
She spread Miller’s legs wider, settling between them, the covers pooling around her waist. Looking up, she caught Miller’s eyes—vulnerable and wanting—and dove in.
Her mouth found Miller’s pussy, her tongue flicking out to taste her, lapping at the wetness with long, slow strokes.
Miller cried out, her fingers fisting the sheets, as Astoria sucked gently on her clit, the sensation pulling a raw edge to her pleasure.
Astoria’s hands gripped Miller’s thighs, holding her open, her hands pressing into the soft skin as she alternated between sucking and licking. Her fingers joined in to thrust steadily.
The room filled with the sounds of it—wet, rhythmic, mingled with Miller’s increasing moans and the way she chanted Astoria’s name. Astoria’s own arousal throbbed, her body tensing with the effort to focus on Miller.
Miller’s body coiled tighter, her breaths coming in short bursts. “Don’t stop, fuck, please,” she gasped, one hand reaching down to guide Astoria’s head.
Astoria hummed against her, the vibration sending Miller over the edge. She came with a shuddering cry, her thighs clamping around Astoria’s head. Astoria didn’t pull away, riding it out with gentle licks until Miller went limp.
But Asotria wasn’t done. She crawled back up, kissing Miller deeply, letting her taste herself on her lips.
“Your turn,” Miller murmured, but Astoria shook her head, a wicked glint in her eye.
She guided Miller’s hand between her own legs, showing her the slick head there. “Touch me,” she demanded softly, vulnerability flickering beneath the command.
Miller’s fingers explored eagerly, circling Astoria’s clit with the same teasing pressure Asotira had used on her.
Astoria rocked into it, kissing Miller fiercely, nipping at her lips as pleasure crescendoed.
She pawed at Miller’s body in return, squeezing her breasts, pulling her close until their sweat-slicked skin stuck and slid.
The kisses turned sloppy, desperate, their tongues tangling as Miller slipped two fingers inside, thrusting with a rhythm that matched Astoria’s gasps.
“Harder,” Astoria growled, breaking the kiss to nip at Miller’s shoulder.
Miller complied, her thumb rubbing firm circles on Astoria’s clit, the dual sensation making Astoria’s hips grind wildly.
She felt the coil tightening, raw and deep.
Miller’s free hand roamed, squeezing Astoria’s ass, a finger teasing the cleft there, adding a spark of intensity that made Astoria moan louder.
When Astoria came, it was fierce, her body clenching around Miller’s fingers, a gutteral “fuck yes” escaping her lips as she buried her face in Miller’s neck, nipping the skin there. They collapsed together, their breaths mingling and hands wandering lazily, squeezing and pulling in the afterglow.
Astoria came back to herself slowly, in pieces. Miller’s weight was half on top of her, one arm still curled protectively around her waist. Their legs were tangled, and the sheets had been kicked somewhere toward the foot of the bed. Astoria’s face was wet.
She reached up and touched her cheek, pulling her hand back in surprise. Tears. She hadn’t even noticed them falling.
“Sorry,” she managed, her voice wrecked. “I don’t usually—”
“Don’t apologize.” Miller propped herself up just enough to look at her, and there was no alarm in her expression, no concern that Astoria was falling apart. Just that steady presence, that patience that kept undoing her. “You okay?”
Astoria considered the question. Her body felt wrung out, trembling faintly in the aftermath. Her chest ached with something that wasn’t quite sadness but not quite joy, some unnamed thing that had cracked open and spilled out.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think so. I just—” She exhaled shakily. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
Miller pressed a kiss to her forehead, her lips lingering on her skin. “Like what?”
Like being known and wanted anyway, she wanted to say.
“Like it meant something,” Astoria said instead, which was close enough.
Miller’s arm tightened around her. They lay there in the quiet, the city still humming beyond the window, and Astoria let herself drift in the strange safety of it.
After a while, her stomach growled loud enough that Miller laughed, the sound vibrating against Astoria’s shoulder.
“When did you last eat?”
Astoria looked at her and smirked.
“Food!” She laughed again.