Make Room for Love

Chapter 24

24

Mira nestled her head against Isabel’s shoulder as she was carried across the threshold. This was where she belonged, safe in Isabel’s arms, warm and melty and so, so turned on. “Turn the light on for me,” Isabel said, her voice velvety and low.

Mira reached out and flipped the light switch. She had only been in Isabel’s bedroom while showing strangers the apartment, looking around the room with a longing she couldn’t name. Now she knew what she wanted, and she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Isabel set her down with exquisite carefulness on top of the covers. Mira stretched out on the flannel bedspread, which was thick, rugged, and surprisingly soft against her bare skin. Not unlike Isabel herself. Mira reveled in the intimacy of it. Isabel slept in this bed every night, and soon she was going to fuck Mira in it.

Isabel shut the door, which made Mira smile as she shivered in anticipation. They had this cozy apartment all to themselves, and it wasn’t as though anyone else would bother them. Isabel turned the bedside lamp on and the overhead light off, casting the room in a soothing glow.

“Can I unzip you?” Isabel asked.

“Yes, please. Let me take my earrings off, too.” Mira sat up in the center of the bed, kneeled with her back to Isabel, and slipped the hooks out of her earlobes. She had thrifted her dress earlier in the week, wanting to wear something Isabel would be the first to unzip her out of—and now she was vibrating with impatience, squeezing her thighs together, struggling to keep still. The bed dipped behind her, and she put her earrings and bangles onto Isabel’s outstretched palm.

Her necklace could stay on. Isabel would probably like her in that and nothing else.

Isabel parted her hair down the center and pushed it to either side of her neck. “I love your hair,” she murmured. She undid the clasp at the top of Mira’s dress, undoing what she’d done earlier, her fingertips tickling Mira’s bare skin.

Isabel pulled the zipper down very, very slowly. Then her breath was on the newly exposed part of Mira’s back, between her shoulder blades, and then came a teasing kiss that left Mira tingling.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since you asked me to zip you up.” Isabel’s breath was warm against Mira’s skin. Then came another kiss, open-mouthed this time, wet and white-hot against her spine. If Mira weren’t already kneeling, her legs would have buckled. It was both frustrating and wonderful to be slowly teased like this—to be handled with care, as though she were precious, by someone who knew exactly what she was doing. “I thought about unzipping you instead and having you right there in the living room. I almost couldn’t wait.”

She pressed more kisses all the way down Mira’s back, and once the dress was fully unzipped, she coaxed it off Mira’s shoulders. Mira couldn’t wait any longer, and she got her arms free and twisted around. Isabel’s eyes were blazing with desire, and Mira tangled her fingers in Isabel’s thick hair and kissed her. They tumbled onto the bed, Isabel on top, kissing like they needed each other more than air.

They only broke apart to get Mira’s dress off her hips and peel her tights off. “God, Mira, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Isabel said, panting, both of them fumbling with her clothes. They finally came off, and then Mira was down to her lacy lingerie, her prettiest, skimpiest matching set.

Isabel stared down at her, mouth hanging open as though she’d forgotten how to breathe. Her gaze scorched Mira’s skin. It was shockingly hot to be looked at by the right person, to feel exposed and beautiful and seen.

“Oh my god,” Isabel said. She dove in again—this time with searing kisses just below Mira’s jaw, using a little bit of teeth, making Mira squeal. Isabel’s thigh slid between her legs, and Mira bucked her hips and moaned at the delicious friction. Her nipples were straining against the lace of her bra. She was going to make a mess of Isabel’s nice slacks if they kept this up. “You’re so beautiful, Mira,” Isabel said, her breath hot against Mira’s earlobe. “I can’t believe?—”

“Wait,” Mira said. She clutched Isabel’s lapels. “Let me take this off you. I’ve been waiting too.”

Isabel laughed. It was impossible to stop kissing each other for long, and Mira let her lips brush against Isabel’s as she slipped Isabel’s suit jacket off her broad shoulders. She worked on Isabel’s shirt next, impatience making her clumsy as she undid each button, both of them breaking out into giggles. It was wonderful to see Isabel having fun in bed.

Four buttons in, Mira had revealed a lot of delicious cleavage in a sensible nude bra, and she was about to weep from frustration. She had never despised an article of clothing more. Isabel helped her out, and finally, finally , Isabel’s bra and pants came off too.

Isabel’s body was a marvel. Mira had seen those powerful arms and thighs before, and they were somehow even more luscious up close. Isabel’s stomach spilled a little over the waistband of her boxer briefs, with a hint of rippling abdominal muscles underneath. The newly exposed parts of her skin were lighter than the rest, less tanned by the sun. And her breasts were so generous and lush that Mira went lightheaded.

She was desperate to lick every single square inch of Isabel, to bury her face in those breasts and take those nipples into her mouth… How had she ever thought that she didn’t like women?

“You’re so hot,” Mira said, so turned on she struggled to find words. Isabel grinned, not shy in the least. Part of what made Isabel so fucking hot was that she knew she was hot. She got on top of Mira—and then their bodies were pressed together, bare skin to bare skin, and Mira couldn’t think about anything at all.

Isabel’s gorgeous black hair covered them like a curtain, and her breasts were deliciously heavy resting against Mira’s own. She lit up every nerve in Mira’s body with kisses, over her ears, her neck, her collarbones. Then Isabel’s mouth wandered to the lacy edge of her bra. “You look good in pink lace,” Isabel murmured. “I like this even more than your pajamas.”

Mira flushed. “My pajamas?”

Isabel looked up, flustered. “I drove myself crazy looking at you in them. I didn’t mean to, I just?—”

Mira giggled. “It’s okay. You can look. Actually, you can do more than that.” Her face burned even hotter.

“Are you asking?”

Mira shivered. “Yes. Please touch me.”

Isabel gently cupped her breasts—one in each warm, comforting hand—and rolled her thumbs over Mira’s nipples through the lace. Arcs of pleasure raced down Mira’s spine, and she gasped. “You can take it off. Please.”

“You don’t have to be so polite.” Isabel slipped a hand under Mira, unhooked her bra with one hand in one easy motion, and tossed it aside. The air was cool against her nipples, and she drew a sharp breath.

“So gorgeous,” Isabel said, her voice a low rumble. Mira was never going to get tired of hearing it. Isabel cupped her breasts again, and this time, there was nothing at all between her achingly tender nipples and Isabel’s palms. She moaned and arched her back for more. “So sensitive,” Isabel murmured. “You’re adorable.” She lowered her head and closed her mouth over a nipple, and Mira squealed.

Oh, this was good, too good. Isabel’s sturdy thigh slid between Mira’s legs again, and Mira writhed and whimpered and desperately pushed her breasts into Isabel’s mouth, one after the other. Could she come like this? Probably not, but this was the closest she’d come to having an orgasm with someone else in a very, very long time, and she’d forgotten what it was like to lose herself in genuine, overwhelming need.

Isabel slipped a hand between their bodies. “Do you want me to touch you?” she asked, her breath warm against Mira’s nipple, her eyes dark with desire.

Mira tensed up. The full-body glow faded. “Um, I think so.”

This was what she’d been dreaming of, but some part of her still warned her to not expect too much. Isabel had been good to her tonight, but that couldn’t undo years and years of being treated as an object of other people’s commingled desire and contempt. Like she was nothing more than her body, and her body didn’t belong to her.

Isabel had raised her expectations. But maybe that only opened her up to being hurt more. She had tried to explain all this to Isabel—that sex wasn’t easy for her—and she had felt understood. But she’d been wrong in trusting people before.

“We don’t have to,” Isabel said, propping herself up and easing off. “I’d love to just keep kissing you.”

Mira took a deep breath, returning to the moment. It was all up to her.

“I want you to,” she said. Excitement rushed through her just from saying the words. “Um, I probably won’t be able to come from it. But I still want you to touch me.”

“That’s okay.” Isabel kissed her on the cheek again. Another thing Mira would never get tired of. “I’ll do it for as long as you want, okay?”

Mira nodded, relieved that Isabel hadn’t taken it as a challenge to try to make her come. “Will you kiss me while you touch me?”

Isabel pounced and hungrily kissed her mouth again. The heel of Isabel’s hand slid between Mira’s thighs, letting Mira set the pace and easing her into it, and Mira felt wanton as she rolled her hips upward harder and harder—and soon that wasn’t enough. When Isabel hooked a thumb under the waistband of her underwear, asking a question, Mira whimpered in relief and nodded.

More impatient squirming as she got her panties off, and now she was completely bare, and raw and vulnerable. But when Isabel’s lips brushed her cheek, Mira knew everything she needed to know.

She was cared for. She was safe. She smiled up at Isabel. “I’m ready.”

Isabel responded with a languid smile of her own. She sucked two of her own fingers into her mouth, getting them wet—and Mira was as wet as she ever got, but she appreciated the help, and it was so hot Mira almost fainted. “Let me.” She took Isabel’s fingers and put them in her own mouth, and traced the grooves and calluses with her tongue, heat pooling between her legs as she sucked.

Isabel’s eyes widened. “Oh, you’re gorgeous like this.” Her voice was thick with desire.

She pushed her fingers in deeper, and Mira’s entire body lit up at the thrust, her pussy aching. She could suck Isabel’s fingers for hours, but right now, she needed those fingers where they belonged. She pulled them out of her mouth, slick and shining. “I think that’s good.”

Isabel slipped her hand between Mira’s thighs again, and the first contact, fingers sliding through her sensitive folds, made Mira tense and gasp. Then came a brush against her clit, too light—and then more motions, all different, all deliberate, as Mira whimpered and let her hips move in response. Isabel was learning her body. And then Isabel did something that was just right, and a hot, electric pulse raced up Mira’s spine as she cried out.

Isabel hummed in pleasure. She kissed Mira on the mouth, slow and sweet, and did the same thing again and again and again. Of course she was devastatingly good with her hands.

Mira dissolved into the sensations, moaning against Isabel’s mouth and moving her hips in time with Isabel’s hand, riding out each delicious jolt of pleasure while the tension grew like a rising tide. Isabel’s mouth moved to her neck, honing in on her sweet spots relentlessly. She’d kissed Mira’s neck enough to know what made her squeal.

“Do you want me inside you?” Isabel asked, her lips hovering above Mira’s collarbone.

Mira nodded, instinct taking over. She wanted more, more, more. Isabel twisted her hand, and then there were what felt like two fingers circling Mira’s entrance, slick and teasing, not pushing in. Isabel’s thumb returned to her clit, and the angle was different, but it was every bit as good. But those fingers were tormenting her. She needed Isabel inside. “Please,” she said, arching her hips. She’d been waiting for days, for months.

“I like when you ask for what you want,” Isabel said. She pressed her mouth to Mira’s again and slid her fingers home.

The sheer relief of being filled was so sweet that Mira cried out, losing control. She couldn’t stop moaning as Isabel curled her fingers and pumped them in and out, learning exactly how Mira liked to be fucked. Isabel’s thumb on her clit never slowed down, and every kiss on her overheated skin made her shiver. Isabel was so intense, so deliberate, so careful, and Mira surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. As her hips chased more of Isabel’s hand, the first pang of what might turn into an orgasm hit her.

“I think I might be close,” she said, shocked by her own body, by what Isabel could do to her. “I don’t know how close.”

Isabel hummed like she was savoring Mira. “Take your time, sweetheart.”

She sped up, and a shockwave of pleasure tore through Mira so intense it almost hurt. She cried out, arching her back, digging her heels into the mattress, and then whimpered, as much as from embarrassment as anything else.

“You okay?” Isabel asked.

Mira nodded. She didn’t want Isabel to stop. She wanted to trust Isabel, and to trust her own body. She just hoped she could.

Isabel’s other hand found Mira’s, and she interlaced their fingers and squeezed, as if to say I’ve got you. The reassurance unlocked something inside Mira, and she surrendered to the rising tide and was overcome by the shivery, elusive sensation of an impending climax. “Don’t stop, please, please, please,” she said, gasping. “Please—ah?—”

Her orgasm rushed through her, hot and exquisite, as she moaned and writhed against Isabel’s hand, needing more, never wanting it to end. As the sensation crested and receded, she squeezed Isabel’s hand tight, as though she could communicate just through that—and Isabel kept up with her, somehow knowing just what she needed. When it became too much, Isabel sensed that, too, and eased her fingers out of Mira’s body.

Mira went limp. In the afterglow, she was unbearably tender. Isabel lay down next to her, wrapped those strong arms around her, and held her close. Mira melted into a puddle against all that bare skin, that comforting solidity. “You’re so precious,” Isabel whispered, stroking Mira’s back, sending showers of warm sparks through her.

Mira tangled her legs up with Isabel’s, craving more touch. Inexplicably, she nearly teared up, and burrowed her face into the crook of Isabel’s neck to take refuge. Mira had never let herself be so unguarded during sex before. Was this how it was supposed to be?

“How are you feeling?” Isabel asked.

“I’m good,” Mira mumbled. She lived a life full of words. It was rare that she ever lost herself in raw, indescribable sensation. “Really good.” The tears were threatening to overflow—happy, overwhelmed tears. She didn’t want to frighten Isabel, so she held them in.

“You were wonderful,” Isabel said. Her voice quavered. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Mira wriggled so she could look into Isabel’s beautiful dark eyes, at that serious, striking face unraveled by emotion. “ You were wonderful,” Mira said. She kissed Isabel on the mouth and ran her hands through all that thick, lush hair.

Isabel moaned. When they broke apart, she said breathlessly, “Your nails.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Mira had been raking Isabel’s scalp. She pulled her hand away. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

Isabel smiled. She took Mira’s manicured hand. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” She took two of Mira’s fingers and sucked them into her mouth, long nails and all, and ran her tongue over the sensitive pads of Mira’s fingers.

Mira whimpered, flaring with arousal. She’d never investigated whether she could have multiple orgasms, but now she needed to find out. She pulled her fingers out, kissed Isabel again, and deliberately grazed Isabel’s scalp with her nails. Isabel let out a sweet moan again, urging her on.

Mira’s hand wandered lower. She cupped one of Isabel’s soft, unbelievably lush breasts in her hand and gently pinched a nipple, and reveled in the throaty noise she drew out in response. She took Isabel’s stud earring into her mouth and worked it with her tongue. Isabel squirmed, her breath hitching. “Oh, god, Mira.”

This was intoxicating. Mira wedged her bare thigh between Isabel’s legs, making her groan. The soft cotton of her boxer briefs was soaked through.

“You’re so wet,” Mira said, stunned into stating the obvious. She had done that to Isabel. “Can I do anything for you?” She kept her thigh exactly where it was. Isabel might have to teach her, which was just fine.

Isabel closed her eyes and exhaled shakily, then opened them, looking more composed. “Do you want to go again? I’d rather do that for you first.”

“Well, um, I do,” Mira said. “But?—”

“How do you want it?” Isabel asked, her mouth close to Mira’s ear—a deliberate distraction. “I can eat you out. Or you can have my strap.”

Mira flushed, her pulse pounding everywhere. She wanted to make Isabel feel just as good, but apparently she’d have to wait, and of course she’d respect that. And she desperately wanted what Isabel was offering. If that was Isabel’s answer, so be it.

If Mira wanted it so badly, she was going to have to ask for it. Her face burned. “Um, I don’t know. I think I want your strap.”

Isabel grinned. “You can have it.”

She got out of bed and pulled her boxer briefs off. Mira propped herself up, taking in the thick dark curls between Isabel’s legs, the incredible curves of her hips and ass and thighs in the soft light. Mira’s mouth watered. She was a mess, roiling with arousal again, needing Isabel’s comforting weight on top of her. Needing to be filled up. “I want you so much.”

“You can have me however you want.” Isabel reached down and caressed Mira’s face, and Mira leaned into the touch. Then Isabel bent over her nightstand, and took out a black leather harness, a bottle of lube, and…a substantial dildo. Mira squirmed. She was going to die before Isabel even got inside her.

Isabel stepped into the harness, put the dildo into the ring, and tightened the straps with a few practiced motions. “Lie back, sweetheart,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”