CHAPTER ELEVEN #5
Isabel had taken her at her word and moved her fingers up to press down, hard, against the spot where she knew she was wanted.
Constance was making sounds that she'd never heard before, that she hadn't even known could come from a woman's mouth.
She'd cupped her right breast in her own hand, and pushed Isabel's left hand down to join her right.
"Inside," she said, still panting. "Two of them. Please."
"It won't hurt you?" A stupid question, she knew: it hadn't hurt her last time, and if she was begging for it now, she clearly didn't anticipate any trouble.
But she couldn't keep the anxiety entirely at bay.
The memory of the sharp, stabbing pain she had known upon being penetrated was not far from her mind.
"It won't," Constance said. "It won't, I promise. I need it, Isabel, please."
Isabel took her at her word. She took her right hand away from the spot she'd been stroking, rotating it so that her thumb came to rest on the small bud she had lavished attention on before.
Constance's hips were still moving, and each roll pushed them together.
She took two fingers and reached lower, until she found the place where she could push into Constance's body in earnest. When she touched it, Constance gasped, and Isabel looked anxiously up at her to be certain she was doing right.
Constance gave her a tiny nod, and that was the last bit of reassurance she needed: she slid both fingers in, going until the join of her hand stopped them from going any further.
Constance keened, mouthing against Isabel's shoulder.
Isabel wriggled her fingers, testing, and Constance made a noise that was very nearly a shriek, so she did it again.
She flexed and curled her fingers, up and down, up and down, still rubbing her thumb in tiny circles, rubbing with her fingertips every time she curled them upwards.
Constance was babbling now, a steady stream of encouragement and blasphemy and pleading - "Isabel, Christ, Isabel keep - keep doing that - God, you're wonderful, you feel so good, Isabel, Isabel, I'm - I'm going to, I'm going to, just keep doing that, just -" And then she hissed and swore, and her words collapsed into a formless wail as she tightened around Isabel's fingers, soaking her to the wrist with her pleasure.
Isabel went on doing as she had been, which only seemed to push Constance to higher peaks as she came and came and came.
Eventually she went quiet, but for the wet, gasping sound she made with each breath.
She reached down and took hold of Isabel's wrist, and Isabel stopped moving her fingers instantly.
"'S enough," Constance muttered, her voice slurred.
She had gone limp in Isabel's arms, a welcome weight, but she stirred enough to move. "Here, let me -"
She pulled herself up and away from Isabel, dislodging her fingers in the process, and flopped back against the bed.
Isabel lay down beside her, drinking in the sight of her spread out in the lamplight.
Her mouth was red and swollen, her breasts heaving as she caught her breath, and her thighs were slick.
Her hair, which she had taken down while she was undressing, fanned out around her head, a tangled golden cloud.
There were marks on her skin where Isabel had kissed her, but they were already fading.
She wanted to leave more marks. She wanted them to last.
Constance smiled lazily at her and caught her hand, tugging it to her mouth for a kiss.
Her tongue flicked out, and Isabel realized with a start that she was tasting herself on Isabel's fingers.
The thought made something squirm in her stomach, hot and restless, but she didn't know what to do about it.
She didn't know how to conduct herself, now that Constance was laying satiated before her.
She just knew that, at any moment, Constance would ask -
"What do you want?" Her voice was still thick with pleasure, but she was speaking more clearly now. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Isabel. "What may I do for you?"
Isabel felt a childish urge to hide her face in the bedclothes. "I don't - I'm not sure."
Constance rolled onto her side, lifting a hand to tuck Isabel's hair behind her ear. "Do you want anything?" she asked gently. "If it's too much -"
"No." Isabel dropped her gaze. "No, I - I do want, but it's .
. ." Frightening, she wanted to say. She couldn't say it, though.
It was ridiculous. Constance had done everything in her power to put Isabel at ease, and yet here she was, still cringing away from the things she wanted.
She was better than she had been, she was well enough to want now, but it still wasn't enough. She squeezed her eyes shut, humiliated.
She felt Constance's fingers trace the shell of her ear, then come around to cup her cheek. There was a rustling sound as she moved closer, then a gentle kiss pressed to her forehead. "Why don't you start with what you know you won't like?" she asked. "It may be easier, that way."
Isabel considered. It was easier - she knew the answer, at least. "Nothing - inside me," she said, tripping a little over her words. Silly, to be embarrassed when she'd had Constance naked and writhing in her lap minutes earlier, but there it was. "It - hurts."
Constance hummed a little. There was no judgment in the sound, nor any anger on her behalf. She was grateful for that; it made the conversation easier to bear. "Do you think you'd like my mouth? It's not so intrusive that way."
"Your . . ." Several images flooded Isabel's mind at once: herself, splayed out on the bed, with Constance's head bobbing between her legs; the way Constance sometimes absent-mindedly licked her lips while she worked, leaving them pink and shiny; Constance's mouth on her skin, leaving patches of wetness cooling when she moved away.
How it had felt when she took Isabel's nipple in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it.
What that would feel like in an even more intimate place. "I - yes, I think - yes."
Constance hummed again. "How do you want it?" she asked. "Astride me, or sitting on the edge of the bed with me kneeling on the floor? Or laying back with your head on the bolster?"
The picture Constance's words produced was such that Isabel had to take a moment to catch her breath before responding.
"Laying back. Please." She didn't trust herself to stay upright if she were sitting on the edge of the bed, and while the thought of sitting astride Constance's face was enough to make her entire body flood with heat, she was more than a little afraid of smothering her.
"But," she said, then stopped. Constance said nothing, just lightly stroked her temple as she waited for her to speak.
"If we could - slowly? I'd like -" She was tripping and stumbling with every other word, but she had to keep going, she had to.
She had to get the words out. "If you kissed me awhile, first." What she really meant was, give me time, I need time, but she couldn't bring herself to state it so baldly.
She was able to enjoy the act, she was fairly certain now - she was wet and throbbing between her legs, eager for Constance's touch - but she could also feel all of her muscles clenching at the thought, drawing away from what she wanted.
She knew, intellectually, that there was nothing to fear; but her body, as always, would not listen or obey.
Frustrated tears pricked at her eyelids.
"I'd be happy to," Constance said. She brought her mouth to Isabel's, brushing against her in a light kiss - testing her, Isabel realized.
Testing whether or not she would balk. The thought should have been humiliating, but she understood: Constance was giving her the chance to pull away if it was too much, easing her into the kiss instead of pushing past her hesitation.
Isabel wound a hand in Constance's hair and deepened the kiss, parting her lips so that Constance could slip her tongue inside.
Constance made a sound then that Isabel felt in her bones, stroking Isabel's tongue with her own, moving a hand down to caress her breasts while they kissed.
Isabel shut her eyes and let herself drift, safe in the knowledge that she could always draw away if it became too much.
That Constance wouldn't be disappointed, or angry.
It was alright. Whatever she needed, it was alright.
They stayed that way for some time: Constance would kiss her thoroughly, then draw back and brush brief, light kisses to her mouth and neck and shoulders before drawing Isabel close again to repeat herself.
Isabel let herself relax into the bed, with Constance braced above her - careful, Isabel noticed, not to put too much weight on her - kissing and stroking and sometimes nibbling lightly until Isabel laughed and squirmed.
After awhile, she moved further down, kissing her breasts and stroking her sides and her hips as she sealed her mouth around a nipple and sucked gently.
Time seemed to slow, then stop entirely; there was nothing outside this room, this bed, the feeling of Constance's mouth and hands on her body.
All of her cares and concerns seemed to float away, replaced with the sensation of being petted and kissed and cared for.
It was enough to make her want to cry again, but she swallowed her tears. Nothing was going to spoil this.
Constance kept moving lower, sucking kisses into Isabel's stomach and hipbones, until she'd reached her inner thighs.
She gave Isabel a gentle push on the hip to roll her over, so that she was properly on her back, and nudged her legs open enough to kiss further up.
She paused when she reached the apex of her legs, stroking lightly along her slit with one finger. "All right?"