It was strange now. Every time they ended up alone in their room together, the air felt suddenly charged, electrified. Regan’s presence felt arousingly close, and Ava’s underwear got instantly damp. She let Regan enter first, then shut the door behind them. No sooner had the latch clicked than Regan was on her, pushing her back against the door and pulling a softooffrom her.
Regan’s mouth crashed into hers.
There was nothing gentle about this kiss, oh no. Regan was takingfrom her, demanding from her, telling her silently that Ava was not in charge right now, Regan was. This was a side of Regan that had been unexpected when she first showed it. Ava had been surprised. She’d never thought of Regan as anything close to assertive. Certainly not pleasantly aggressive. Not the tiniest bit sure of herself. But it turned out Regan was all of those things and more. And they made her unbelievably sexy.
Of course, Ava kissed her back with all she had, giving as good as she got, and before long, they were shuffling their way toward the bed, their mouths still fused together.
Goddamn, Regan was a spectacular kisser. Like, easily the best kisser she’d ever kissed. Not that she’d kissed tons of people, but she’d had her fair share. She and Regan were incendiary when they kissed, it was true, but something was different tonight. She felt it deeply. Something ignited in her, started with a steady heat low in her body and began consuming her from the inside. She didn’t even think about it before she rolled them so she was on all fours above Regan, and she pulled away from the kiss. Regan’s eyes were dark and hooded, and her chest rose and fell with her excited breaths.
Ava sat up on her knees and pulled her shirt over her head. Then she met Regan’s gaze and, without breaking eye contact, reached behind herself to unfasten her bra and slip it off.
Regan’s eyes went wide.
They hadn’t gone this far yet, but Ava was ready. All she had to do was look at Regan’s face to know she was, too, so she leaned forward onto her hands again so her bare breasts dangled just above Regan’s mouth.
Regan looked at them, then shifted her gaze to Ava’s. “Are you sure?” she asked on a whisper.
In response, Ava lowered a breast until her hardened nipple brushed against Regan’s lips.
That was all it took.
Regan closed her mouth over the nipple and sucked hard. Ava thought she might pass out from the electric current of pleasure that shot through her. Regan’s hands entered the game, one of them toying with Ava’s other nipple so that both were being stimulated at the same time, and the moan that rumbled up from Ava’s throat was a new sound for her. Sensual. Erotic. Regan drew them out of her somehow, all thesenew sounds. Moans and whimpers and cries, all new to her, all foreign, but incredible.
Regan’s mouth was hot and talented. Ava had no idea how there could be more than one way to suck on a nipple, but Regan seemed to have an entire bag of tricks. Whatever she was doing, it was like magic. X-rated magic. And Ava didn’t want to know the secrets, she only wanted to be the recipient of that magic.
Then Regan’s mouth was back on hers while her hands kneaded Ava’s breasts, but Ava wrenched away and pushed herself up on her knees. “You are alarmingly overdressed,” she said, her voice hoarse as she waved a finger in front of Regan’s torso. Regan’s hands in hers, she pulled her to sitting, then tugged her shirt over her head. Regan’s bra was next, and then there they were. Ava sat back on her haunches so their height was similar. Her nipples were hard, and she moved forward the tiniest bit until they were brushing Regan’s, coaxing them to their own hardness. “That’s better,” Ava whispered, and with Regan’s face in both her hands, she lowered her mouth to Regan’s and kissed the bejesus out of her.
It had been some time since Ava’d had sex. The last time had been nearly a year ago, and it had been with someone she didn’t really connect with. She’d had the itch—at that point, it had been nearly two years since she’d felt the touch of another woman, and she was drowning—and a friend encouraged her not to be so strict with her prerequisites. She’d met a very attractive woman in a bar, they’d talked, and she’d gone home with her. The sex had been fine but had left her feeling empty somehow, emptier than she’d felt before they’d met. After that, she’d vowed not to give herself to somebody she didn’t know ever again. No judgment to people who could manage casual sex without issues, but it wasn’t for her.
Nothing about things with Regan was casual anymore.
It was something she’d been realizing as time went on, as they’d gotten to know each other better and better. Things had shifted. Not only did she feel comfortable with Regan, not only was she starting to understand that she really liked her, but she also trusted her, and that was a big fucking deal, because Ava did not trust many people. But as they rolled and their positions reversed and Regan was now above her, looking down at her with such desire in her eyes, Ava trusted her. When Regan ran her tongue along the side of Ava’s neck and down over hernipple, Ava trusted her. When she unfastened Ava’s jeans and peeled them down her legs, Ava trusted her. Lying there on the bed, wearing nothing but her underwear, Regan braced above her, she trusted her. And when Regan’s fingertips danced up her leg and along the inside of her thigh, when Regan slipped one finger beneath the elastic and skimmed through her hot wetness, pulling a gasp from Ava’s lips, Ava trusted her.
“You,” Regan began, then stopped and cleared her throat, as if overcome by…something. She shook her head with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m here, touching you like this.” Her finger was still in Ava’s panties, and she moved it again. Ava gasped again. “And that I get to hear these sounds you make.” Again. “God, you’re so fucking sexy.” Her eyes never leaving Ava’s, she slowly slid the underwear down her legs and tossed it to the floor.
Ava was completely naked. Totally vulnerable. Not something she normally enjoyed, but Regan made her feel beautiful, and that gave her confidence, the confidence to lie there, open, while Regan’s gaze raked over her with such an intense desire, she could almost feel it move along her skin. She was so turned on, she worried she might combust. Or that the second Regan touched her, she’d explode.
Regan’s eye contact was impressive. Ava had always thought so. Even when she’d been criticizing her back in the restaurant all those years ago, Regan always took it standing tall and looking her in the eye. Now they were horizontal, but the eye contact remained. Regan held her gaze while she slowly moved Ava’s legs so she could kneel between them. Regan held her gaze when she put a hand on each of Ava’s thighs and pushed them further apart, exposing her—to the air, to Regan’s hands, to her eyes, to her mouth. And Regan held her gaze as she lowered herself between Ava’s legs and kissed her inner thighs, working her way almost to Ava’s center before switching over to the other thigh. She got so close more than once, but she’d lift her tongue mere millimeters before the spot where Ava needed her to be, and it wasn’t long before Ave was soaked and writhing.
Regan continued to go from thigh to thigh, her hands bracing Ava’s hips and preventing her from shifting them so her center would meet Regan’s tongue.
“Oh God” seemed to be the only phrase left in her vocabulary now, so she said it over and over as she gripped the sheets. When shefinally managed to venture a glance down, Regan was grinning at her. “You’re enjoying this,” she accused.
“You better believe I am,” Regan said, her voice low and husky. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
At her words, Ava felt a rush of wetness and a lump in her throat, and she groaned as she dropped her head back to the pillow and ground her hips into the mattress.
“What do you want?” Regan asked softly. “Tell me what you want.”
Ava wasn’t a talker in bed. She never had been. Hell, she wasn’t even much of a talker in life. But she was going to burst into flames and end up nothing but a pile of ashes in this very comfortable bed in Chef Liza Bennett-Schmidt’s mansion if she didn’t get release. Like, now. And if she was being honest, telling Regan what she wanted, verbalizing it, felt sexy somehow. She lifted her head.
Regan was smiling at her from between her legs, and Ava could feel her thumbs rubbing slowly up and down on either side of her center, keeping her arousal high—God, so high. She swallowed and her voice was hoarse, gravelly as she said, “I want your mouth on me. I want your mouth. Please.”
“Ask and you shall receive,” Regan said back, then lowered her head.
The first touch of her tongue was like heaven. Like angels singing. Like sunshine bursting through clouds. And Ava groaned, good Lord did she groan. Loud and long, as pure unadulterated pleasure began in her center and blossomed out into the rest of her body. It was like a switch had been flipped, heating her from the inside, letting loose that glorious wave of physical joy that slowly spread and then rushed through her entire body, from the middle of her chest and out to her fingertips and the tips of her toes, and she pushed her hips up off the bed as the orgasm ripped through her.
And the sounds she made!
