Becca
Chapter 24
Becca
32 Days Dead
“Becca, what do you want from me?” Stasi asks through ragged breaths.
As I shift to straddle her, the rampant desire shining back at me takes me off guard. That look used to terrify me, but I’m emboldened. “I want you to show me all the ways sex can be satisfying.” Lust curls in my belly as I take the time to really look at her. Everything about her is pure seduction. Not just in the blatantly sexual way in which she carries herself, but how she projects the confidence of who she is, how she knows what she wants, and she refuses to apologize for it. That right there is the most beautiful thing anyone could be. I want that. For the first time, I’m one hundred percent confident in my desire for her. “I want you to show me how good it can be.”
“Say it again.” The attempted command comes out strained. “Ask me again.” She runs the back of her fingers down my arm, leaving tingles that chase away the lingering ache of months of rough, clenching hands.
“Stasi, I need this.” And I do. I need more of the sweet escape she promises with every touch. I need her on me, inside of me. I breathe in the tension brewing between us, a heady mix of need and restraint. It’s sweet and smoky like a nice tequila, and I want to drink it down. “Will you please teach me how to fuck the way my body needs?”
“Fuck,” she groans while those sultry brown eyes search mine, then drop lower, her hands following as they cup the undersides of my modest breasts. “Do you even know what you’re asking? You have no idea how badly I want to explore every neglected inch of you.” Her gaze devours my naked body, licking over my skin with a palpable heat as her craving builds. “How can I say no when I’m the only person who understands what you need? That would just be unnecessarily cruel, wouldn’t it?” Finally, she stops warring with herself and decides to take what she wants. “But if I’m going to do this, we’re going to have a safe word.”
“Safe word?”
“Something you can say if you need me to stop.” Her thumbs roll over my nipples, making it hard to focus on the words coming out of her mouth.
“Is that really necessary?”
“Yeah, Crybaby. It’s necessary because if I’m going to teach you how to fuck my way, I’m going to take a wrecking ball to your preconceptions of what sex is. When I’m finished with you, you’re going to be a shaking little mess. No thoughts, just ecstasy.” Unexpectedly, she pinches my nipples, summoning a well of tears and a flood of arousal. “That’s right, baby girl. I’m going to make that pussy sob for me.”
“Show me,” I plead, shivering with anticipation.
“Are you sure?” She twists the sensitive peeks between her fingers.
“I’m ready. I want this.” My teeth click together with how vigorously I nod.
“Do you remember when I promised to make you my fucktoy?”
“Yes,” I force out as my body gushes more arousal.
“Yes, what?” Another pinch, but she soothes my tender flesh with spit-coated thumbs. The new sensation makes my thighs clench. “I’m only into enthusiastic consent. Use your words and tell me what I want to hear.”
On edge like this, I don’t even remember why I tried to fight this. “Make me your fucktoy.”
“Now give me that safe word,” Stasi demands.
But she’s already made good on one of her threats— no thoughts, just ecstasy —speaking let alone coming up with an idea is impossible, so I blurt the first thing that breaks through the haze of my lust-addled brain. “Violets.”
“Okay, violets it is.” She chuckles. “Don’t worry I’m going to take it slow.” Her hands move to the back of my thighs, easing me closer. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” she asks in a striking contrast to the way she usually demands everything. All the traces of uncertainty have fallen away, and I find myself stumbling over the sincerity of my answer.
“Fucking finally, yes.”
Acrylics scrape deliciously at the back of my scalp as she urges me forward to meet her lips. The cage of my arms around her helps reaffirm the sense of control. When our lips meet, I sink into her soft body and open up without resistance. Her mouth and tongue are stroking velvet as they dance with mine. It’s a little jarring how slow and careful her movements are, like she hasn’t gutted me before. Patiently she guides me, coaxing me into the rhythm she likes, that I now like. Soon I’m lost in the series of caresses and nips she teases me with. But my eyes shoot open when she places my hands over her breasts. “Consider this lesson one.”
My bravery from just a few minutes ago wavers. My hesitant fingers twitch against the rigid fabric, accidentally caressing her nipples that harden into peaks beneath my touch. A barely audible hiss leaves her lips and it’s the revving of an engine before my foot punches the gas and sends me from zero to sixty. Gripping the top of her corset, I tug her against me, forcing her mouth on mine once again. One clasp then another gives way until the fabric parts easily. It’s like opening Pandora’s Box as I cup her full breasts. The catch of her breath is the warning whisper of a curse being unleashed. There’s no going back now.
My confidence builds as she squirms beneath me. Leaning over her like this, she’s so much less intimidating, her features are softened, rounded, and more delicate. Rolling the pad of my finger over her nipple makes her arch her back. Kissing across her chest just above her cleavage makes her shudder. Her muscles tighten beneath me the more I toy with her. I’d never had much interest in being on top, but experiencing every slight movement—the writhing that I’m causing—it’s intoxicating. It’s empowering. She’s giving me exactly what I asked for. Maybe my nightmare is actually a goddess. From this vantage point, she’s celestial with her pink-tinted platinum hair pooling around her like silk and framing her perfect breasts. That tempting silver through her nipples gleaming, just begging for my mouth.
“Are you just going to keep staring at me or are you going to do something, Cry—”
I snatch that taunt and swallow it with my lips on hers. My tongue directs hers, not the other way around. “I’ve been looking forward to this for so long.” I sigh with relief as I suck a pierced nipple into my mouth, my tongue reveling in the novelty of this—the cold bar foreign to the heat of my mouth, the textured ridges of her areola against my slick tongue.
“Warmer,” she moans as he rocks her hips upward.
Taking the hint, I lick at the sensitive peak again, earning me a satisfied gasp.
“My turn.”
I will myself not to jerk away when she slides her hands up my thighs to my hips where her thumbs press into the sensitive flesh in front of my pelvis. They grind down at the provocation of her intentional touch. With sure hands, she continues her ascent. Tenderly, she swipes her thumbs over my taut nipples that ache for more.
Stilling her hands, she withholds it from me. “Are you ready for more?”
“Yes. You can do whatever you want with me. Just don’t stop.” The throbbing between my legs echoes the sentiment.
“Is that so?” She sucks a nipple into her mouth, noisily suctioning her lips around the sensitive peak. The powerful vibration of her sultry hum drives me to my knees, but her hand on my shoulder holds me steady as she switches her attention to the other. “You like your achingly neglected nipples touched, don’t you?” She releases me from her mouth only to flick her tongue across it.
What can only be described as a whimper leaves me as my inner thighs slip and slide against each other.
“Oh, Becca,” she tuts. “You’re dripping wet for me, aren’t you?” The back of her hand caresses my cheek. “Do you need to be touched down there too?” I nod eagerly. “Oh yeah, my needy girl. I bet you do.” My legs shake beneath her palms as she grips my upper thighs, her thumbs applying pressure that makes the strained muscles twitch. “Go on then, show me how wet that pussy is.”
Like I’ve seen her do before, I form a ‘v’ with my fingers and spread myself open.
Air sucks harshly between her teeth. “That’s such a good girl.” She leans forward slightly, supporting herself on her elbows. “Fuck,” she drags the word out in a groan that gives me chills. I’m teetering on the edge as she looks her fill. “Has anyone told you how perfect you are?”
“No.” I clamp my eyes shut, suddenly unable to handle the intensity of her gaze as insecurities creep in. It’s embarrassing just how desperately I need this reassurance.
“Look at me, Becca,” Stasi commands. When my eyes reluctantly meet hers, she smiles and nods knowingly. “That’s exactly what you needed, isn’t it? I told you I would fuck you like no one else can.” Her grip tightens on my thighs as she spreads them farther apart. “Look at you drip for me.” She rubs a finger through my center. “I bet I could easily slip my whole hand inside you right now with how wet you are.” Stasi’s eyes are hooded, heavy with desire as she teases the ball of her piercing across her lip. “Have you ever been fisted?”
I shake my head, nerves tightening in my gut for the first time since we started.
But Stasi calmly kneads my thigh and soothes my anxiety with her words. “It’s okay, we’re not going to try it today.” Her finger resumes the slow tease. “But one of these days we’re going to see just how much this body can take as I stretch and fill this pretty pussy.” She slides her other hand down her stomach to where a small puddle is gathering and drags her fingers through it. “Taste how much you love it.” Stasi presses two fingers into my mouth briefly, leaving behind the faintest hint of my arousal. It tastes like freedom.
It’s a revelation—how my body responds to her. How it gives in to her with breathy moans, shaking limbs, and undeniable responsiveness. Never in my life have I been this eager for someone’s touch, so present, so desperate to be fucked; something about that is terrifying.
“Violets.” It takes a monumental effort to get the word out. But if I go any further, I fear there’s no turning back.
Stasi immediately stops touching me, hands folding against her chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. That’s what safe words are for.”
I nod but roll onto my side quickly to hide my face, and more importantly, the tears that threaten to spill. Cautiously, Stasi presses into my back but doesn’t wrap herself around me. In the closeness of her body, I feel her acceptance rather than hear it. I never thought I’d find safety in Stasi’s arms, but despite her anger with me, justified as it is, she meets me where I am.
I’ve never experienced anything like what we just shared, something so sensual and selfless, a few minutes where the only thing that mattered was my pleasure. And not even as a means to fuel someone else’s ego, but to show me that I can find it on my own. The way she let me use her body—that body that moves like it was meant to press against mine as if the hands of fate shaped her just for me—it was so perfect.
And yet, part of me is holding back.
“I know this is hard for you, but you opening up at your own pace is enough.” It’s an attempt at reassurance, an unusual kindness.
But instead of putting me at ease, the statement lands uncomfortably on my skin. The unspoken “ for now” pricking my insecurities . The progress that I made tonight suddenly doesn’t seem so monumental. I’m dead and damaged. I don’t even know why I’m trying to fix this part of myself or why I’m trying to move on. It’s too late for me to become the person I never allowed myself to be. I missed that train. I spent twenty-something years running in the wrong direction.
When I look up at her, I expect to see the sharp smile that’s all teeth and tongue ready to devour me with wicked words, but in its place, I only find serenity. “It’s okay that we stopped. You did so well trying something new. You have all the time you need.” This is the mouth that coaxed me through it, not the one that picks at the tender places that have been exposed to her.
That’s what makes it so hard to do what comes next. Icy dread reaches inside me and turns my stomach. “This was a mistake.”