Chapter 23 #2
“Oh, yes, you are. Listen to that.” Sadie slid her fingers inside Anne’s bra and pushed it down to expose her breast. She pinched the nipple, drawing a gasp from Anne, and rolled it firmly between her thumb and forefinger.
“No one would ever believe me if I told them about this, would they? Formidable Anne Lowell, elegant Anne Lowell—reduced to this whining, pretty mess who’d do anything to get filled up. ”
She said it approvingly, admiringly, as if Anne were fulfilling the only purpose she had, and it made Anne throb so hard her hips jerked into the air.
“Mess,” Anne babbled, “ah, it’s, I’m—”
Sadie parted the side of Anne’s hair with her free hand, took an earlobe in her mouth, and began to suck.
“Ah—”
Slow and warm and so wet as Sadie worked Anne evenly, the gentle rhythm of it like a pulse.
Anne pressed her lips together to stop from whimpering too loudly. It wasn’t until she began panting through her nose, her nails starting to dig into Sadie’s back, that Sadie pulled away again.
They stared at each other. Sadie’s gaze on her was a kind of stroking.
What did Anne look like right now? Hair disheveled, breasts falling out of her gaping dress, face and neck and chest reddened with arousal?
Sadie’s color was high, too. She licked her lips and watched as Anne’s gaze dropped down to Sadie’s breasts, which were moving quickly up and down from the effort of her breathing.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” Sadie told her. “You’ll get your turn. I need something from you first. I’ve been picturing it all day. All week, to tell you the truth. Are you ready?”
“Ready?” Anne repeated inanely.
“You told me last night,” Sadie said softly, “that you were mine.” She pulled gently at the slack edges of Anne’s dress. “I’d like you to show me every little bit of what belongs to me.”
Anne couldn’t speak. Even though she was lying down, she felt dizzy enough to faint.
Sadie’s hands cupped her ribs like bookends, and she placed soft kisses on Anne’s cheeks, nose, mouth, chin. “You’re all right. Say it out loud, Anne. Say it for me. Say it for yourself. What do you want to show me?”
Somehow, Anne managed to form one word. “Everything.”
It was the truest thing she’d ever said. She was aching so badly that the feeling of it was close to a sound, a hot and dense buzzing in her ears.
One last kiss, pressed between her cheek and ear, and then Sadie stood up. “Let’s get undressed.”
She didn’t have to suggest it twice. Without hesitation, Anne sat up and unfastened her wrap dress with unsteady fingers, then pulled it off. She’d already removed Sadie’s earrings, after the party; now that she had Sadie to touch, the closeness of the jewelry didn’t matter nearly as much.
Her bra was next. She fumbled at the back clasps, clumsy with her haste, and didn’t look at Sadie as she pulled it off, not ready for what she’d see in Sadie’s expression.
Despite knowing logically that Sadie would never judge her, a sting of apprehension still blunted some of Anne’s arousal.
Would she measure up to the woman Sadie had pictured?
Would Sadie want her as much now after she’d seen behind the layers?
Once she’d discarded her damp underwear, she lay back down on the bed. Naked. Exposed.
Sadie, who was undoing the buttons on her vest, stopped. She stared down at Anne, her gaze slowly traveling from head to toe and back again. Stared and stared for what felt like a very long time, breathing unevenly.
“What is it?” Anne’s voice was high and quavering.
“I can’t believe my own eyes,” Sadie said softly. “I imagined—but even that didn’t come close. You’re perfection.”
Oh, thank God. Still, Anne touched her breasts with sudden self-consciousness. “They’re not as perky as they used to be.”
“Perfection,” Sadie repeated, with more insistence this time, and resumed her undressing. “I wouldn’t want them to be anything in the world but what they are.” She shrugged out of her vest and then removed her trousers, stepping out of them.
It was Anne’s turn to stare, transfixed, as every bit of her apprehension evaporated. She’d never let herself really look at another woman in a state of undress—even on the beach or at the pool she averted her eyes—but now, finally, she could satisfy herself.
Freckles dotted Sadie’s chest and arms and upper thighs, little brown kisses Anne envied for their closeness to her skin. The bra and underwear Sadie wore were a matched set, plum-colored with lace trim. Nothing spectacular—not in isolation—but they touched Sadie, and so they were beautiful.
Sadie crossed her arms over her stomach, hugging herself.
“Please, keep going.” Anne barely recognized her own voice. “I want to look at you.”
After a brief hesitation, Sadie complied, and once the bra and underwear joined her other clothing, she put her hands on her hips as though she wasn’t sure what else to do with them. “Well,” she said a little shakily, “here I am.”
Unable to look away, Anne devoured the sight before her.
Sadie’s breasts were exquisite, big and round with stiffened pink-brown tips.
Below sat the soft curves of her stomach and hips.
Her thighs were solid, pressed together in a line that made Anne lightheaded with what their separation promised.
Between them nestled a neat, cropped triangle of curls darker than the hair on her head.
Anne’s mouth watered at the thought of the soft, wet delight she’d find beneath those curls. She throbbed again.
Sadie was blushing under Anne’s gaze, the freckles on her chest now backlit by a pink glow.
“Come here, my darling,” Anne whispered, and held out her arms. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.”
A look on Sadie’s face like Anne had never seen before: awed and relieved and burning.
She hadn’t known how to imagine the way Sadie’s bare skin would feel flush against her own, but as Sadie slid against her, the warm, firm pressure was almost more than Anne could stand.
Everywhere Anne could feel or reach, there was Sadie, silk and heat and abundance beneath Anne’s eager hands.
Sadie’s heady scent. Sadie’s hips, rolling lazily against the tops of Anne’s thighs.
All of Sadie, offered up for touch and smell and taste. Finally. Finally. Finally.
When her breasts touched Sadie’s, nipples brushing as they rubbed up against each other, Anne whimpered, unable to stop it.
“Ask me for it, sweetheart,” Sadie said hoarsely. “I know you need to.”
“Please—let me use my hands, my mouth—” Unthinkingly, Anne pressed her palms against the sides of Sadie’s chest, feeling the rise of her curves. Her head swam. “On your, your—”
“My breasts?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracked. They’d only just gotten started—how was Anne already this far gone?
In her ear, Sadie whispered, “Make me feel so good. I know you can.”
Before she’d finished speaking, Anne was already sliding down, positioning herself so that her face pressed against Sadie’s magnificent breasts. Oh Christ. Oh fuck. Her hands cupped the ample swells, not even close to covering them. Spilling out, unrestrained, and it was all for Anne.
Mindlessly, desperately, she began to lick and suck.
“Anne,” Sadie groaned. “God, you, you feel incredible—ah—!”
She’d taken one stiff tip into her mouth and tugged, laving it clumsily with her tongue. All impulse, no plan or finesse.
Gasping, Sadie didn’t seem to mind. She grabbed Anne’s head, fisted her fingers in Anne’s hair, and cried out again and again while Anne sucked and worshipped her breasts.
For the next little while—how long, Anne had no idea—she fell into a trance. Nothing else mattered: just the bounty in her wet and eager mouth, her grasping, greedy hands. At one point, dimly, she realized her hips were thrusting against the mattress.
Then Sadie was pulling Anne off of her, and Anne made a strangled sound of protest before she looked up and saw how Sadie looked: red, breathless, near frantic.
It took a second for Sadie to speak. “You have to stop now, sweetheart.”
“Why?” was all Anne could get out.
“Because,” Sadie whispered, “if you keep doing that, you’ll make me come. And I don’t want to. Not yet.”
Anne had to squeeze her thighs together. Sadie could come, just from that? Anne had almost made her do it? Jesus.
“Let me take care of you now—so I won’t…it’ll keep me from losing it before I’m ready.” Sadie licked her lips, chest heaving. “I need to get control of myself.”
And she could do that by taking control of Anne. Wordlessly, Anne nodded.
“Where’s the lube? You have lube, don’t you?”
Anne nodded again, still unable to form words. She pointed at the bedside table’s drawer.
“Good. Come up here.” Sadie pulled gently at her upper arms. “Lie on your back.”
Anne obeyed, noticing as she did how slick and shining Sadie’s chest looked in the soft light. A little pink, too. Pride surged alongside Anne’s arousal. She’d made that.
“Your first time getting that perfect mouth on a woman’s breasts.” Sadie bent down, so close to Anne that her breath stirred Anne’s hair. “Let’s see what it did to you.”
She slid her hand between Anne’s legs.
Anne whined and jerked her hips forward involuntarily. Sadie was cupping her; that was Sadie’s hot hand, Sadie’s ready fingers pressing into her—
“Oh, yes. Look at that. Oh, you’re”—Sadie’s voice hitched—“you’re so warm.”
Empty, too. Anne twitched forward again, closing her eyes.
“You’re getting my hand wet, you know.” Sadie’s palm pushed into Anne a little harder, sure and steady. “Starting to spill. Can’t help yourself, can you?”
She couldn’t. It should’ve humiliated her. Instead, Anne was drowning in heat. “N-no—can’t help it—sorry—”
“Never,” Sadie said firmly, “apologize to me for doing exactly what you’re made to do.”
Yes. Sadie was right. She’d been purpose-built for this. How else would Anne instinctively know how to hunt what she needed? To bear down on Sadie’s hand, try to get pressure?