I hope my face is all over her body in the near future.
So much for poetics. From the moment Bree first kissed Amelia’s hand, she knew she had to have those lips. Hearing the words, “Yes, ma’am,” fall from them was the sweetest invitation she ever received. Bree knew that if she claimed a kiss now, Amelia would fall for her if she hadn’t already. I’ll take one kiss now. A few more later. Just one kiss. That’s all Bree needed as she discovered what it was like to kiss lips as warm as the heat simmering between them.
Sure. One kiss. That’s all it was going to be.
Until Amelia’s elbows gave out and they both went down onto the bed.
Did either of them move away, however? Did Amelia fall apart laughing, easing Bree away from her? Did Bree roll off Amelia and apologize for the embarrassing moment? No. That wouldn’t make any sense in a world where all they cared about was what they could do for each other’s evening.
I am seriously the luckiest woman in the world. That’s all Bree could think as Amelia’s soft body cushioned the fall. Her legs naturally split open, one foot sliding off the bed while the other kicked into the air. Bree’s lips fell off Amelia’s, but one hand caught the other, until enough leverage was procured to give them both the room necessary to fall into deeper, headier kisses that would certainly lead to the kind of thing Bree had been fantasizing about since she first saw Amelia sitting in her chair.
This was a woman looking for escape. One simple look in Bree’s direction begged to forget the past and embrace a better, more hopeful future. Yet Amelia wouldn’t be satiated with mere kisses and some rattling of the bed. She wanted passion. An experience. A lover who understood the subtleties of taking control while giving her partner everything she desired. Every kiss, every turn of their bodies was a service to Amelia. Yet it was an experienced top who knew that true thrill came from making the submissive one think she was servicing the universe.
Everything was an act. A delicate, delicious act – and Bree came from a city where everyone was trained to perform their best. The Academy Award of seducing a woman. That would be the title of her memoir, and she’d be damned if Amelia wasn’t on the cover with her. Wearing this abominable outfit. Sexy enough to fell Bree where she stood. Or leaned. Loomed. Sweet God, she was looming over her dream lover – and the dream woman was thrilled about it!
Bree wasn’t a magician, though. She couldn’t magically solve Amelia’s problems. All she could do was offer a temporary escape for a couple of hours. I can make her forget for a little while. Although Amelia hadn’t explicitly said it, this was probably her first encounter with someone since her divorce. No pressure. Then again, Bree often thrived under pressure.
Sweet kisses often turned passionate when the stakes were already high. Bree was so overwhelmed by the sensation of pressing her lips – then, her tongue – against Amelia’s that she forgot to enjoy the other amazing feelings beneath her body.
Amelia was softer than her physique portrayed, with delicate thighs that had plenty of give for a pair of thumbs pressing into them, and breasts malleable enough for Bree to submerge her face into when Amelia threw her head back to gasp. Bree still wore every article of clothing she walked into the room with, but it didn’t prevent her from appreciating the body beneath hers. Eventually, she relaxed her hips, allowing them to dip between Amelia’s spreading legs. That’s when Bree realized she was only a few minutes away from having the best key party of her life.
“I just wanna say,” Bree interrupted their heated tryst long enough to say, “you are one of the hottest women to ever come into this club. Like, I’m on top of you right now, and it’s killing me that I might not get your attention tonight.”
Although mildly confused by the interruption, Amelia didn’t hesitate to smile. Her lipstick was slightly smudged from the heavy kissing that threatened to tear her lips apart. “You think I’m really hot? Or are you merely saying that?”
“Honey…” Bree glanced down, both hands on Amelia’s breasts. She was more than willing to give them a tight squeeze and watch those eyes light up with delight. “I’m about to rock your fucking world. Tell me. What do I have to do to get my face between your legs?”
Amelia bit her lip. “Such service so quickly?”
Although it was a joke, Bree couldn’t help but correct her. “Service? For you? Have you already forgotten the nature of this arrangement?” With regret in her heart, Bree pulled away, planting her feet firmly back on the floor. Watching the distance between herself and Amelia grow was harder on her heart than she imagined. “Now, tell me. What will make you the happiest woman getting her clit sucked tonight?”
The way Amelia arched her back was so deliberate that Bree had half a mind to admonish her for unfair practices. It’s a miracle I don’t push her back down and plant my face in the middle of her chest. Again. “I hear they keep boxes full of fun stuff underneath these beds. I’m sure you know what to do with them.”
The implication was heavy in her voice. “Assuming you really are all about what you say you are.”
Bree knew. She also had something to prove now, and she would do so with a flourish. Starting with the way she kept her eyes locked on Amelia when slowly kneeling down onto the floor, one hand swatting beneath the bed in search of the “boxes full of fun stuff” Bree certainly knew plenty about.
Too good to be true, really. How had she lucked out with this so soon? Everything in that box implied trust between two consenting adults. They barely knew each other. Yet would Bree say no? Hell. No.
She didn’t heave the box onto the bed. Not enough finesse in that kind of power move. Besides, power moves were so 2010, back when Bree felt like she had something to prove to the world. These days, she was more inclined to flip open the box with a flick of her wrist and grab what she knew the club kept on the far right side of every container. Because it wasn’t enough for the staff to clean these rooms from top to bottom when guests were finished with their playtime. They also rearranged everything so they went right back to where they belonged. Perfect for women like Bree, who knew a thing or two about which materials she best liked.
A tiny gasp of anticipation whistled through Amelia’s throat when the straps of bondage silks dropped onto the bed. Bree was a wordless mistress as she pinned Amelia’s hands above her head, straddling her left leg to get a better look at the rings hanging off the side of the bed. Other places forced couples to take a more practical approach to bondage on the bed – Bree hated being limited to the headboard or a ring hanging from the ceiling. Why make Amelia move when Bree could simply bind her to the rings not too far from her head?
And why make her keep her legs open when Bree could do it for her? Right after she took off her jacket, though. It was getting hot in there. Not that Bree could pinpoint why. She was only about to rock Amelia’s world and get so much more in return.
The jacket hit the chair only a few feet away. It dangled on the arm for half a second before tumbling to the floor, where it crumpled into a wrinkled heap. Bree didn’t care. She was focused on the woman who breathed so hard that her chest continuously bobbed up and down within her tight lingerie. The skirt is in my way. Bree pulled it up around Amelia’s waist and purred, “Have you given up control yet? Or should I keep going?”