Elise paused. Because this mattered. Because Sienna had been drinking nothing tonight, but Elise had. Two gins. And the fresh air on the walk had cleared her head and Sienna's mouth on hers had cleared it further, and she was not drunk, not even close, but she needed Sienna to know that this was real.
"I'm sober," Elise said. "In case you're wondering. The fresh air and the crying and you kissing me on that bench sobered me up completely. I know exactly what I'm doing and I want to do it."
Sienna's expression softened. Her hand came up and she tucked a strand of Elise's hair behind her ear, the gesture so tender that Elise's chest compressed. "I know you're sober enough.”
"Good. Because I need you to understand that I am absolutely, completely, one hundred percent sure about this."
Sienna's shoulders dropped. The set of her jaw changed, a tension going out of it that had been braced there for weeks. Elise watched her stop fighting. Sienna kissed her again, softer now, a kiss that was both answer and surrender, and her hands tightened on Elise's waist.
Elise walked her backward, slowly, through the hallway and into the living room, kissing her as they went. Sienna'sback bumped the edge of the bookshelf and Elise caught her, steadying her with her good hand on her waist, and they both laughed against each other's mouths, the sound breathless and warm. Then the laughter faded and the kissing deepened and Elise steered them past the bookshelf and the armchair to the sofa.
When the backs of Sienna's legs hit the cushion, she sat down and Elise followed, kneeling between her legs on the floor, and the position put them face to face. Sienna sitting on the sofa, Elise on her knees on the rug. The intimacy of the position was electric. Every detail of Sienna's face was visible from here: the flushed cheeks, the rapid pulse at the base of her throat.
"I want to undress you," Elise said. Her hands were on the tie of Sienna's wrap dress, hovering. Not moving. Waiting. "Is that okay?"
Sienna's eyes met hers. There was desire in them, and nervousness, and beneath both a kind of wonder, as if she couldn't believe this was happening. "Yes." The word came out breathless. "Yes, it's okay."
Elise released the tie of the dress with one hand. The other was limited by her shoulder, still healing, but she didn't need both hands for this. She carefully unwrapped Sienna’s dress, taking her time, watching Sienna's face as she peeled it off her shoulders one by one. Beneath it Sienna was wearing a simple black silk bra and panties, and her skin was golden in the dim light from the window, smooth and warm and covered in goosebumps. The tiny mole near her left ear. The silver threads at her temples catching the light. The rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath the black silk.
Elise ran her fingertips down the exposed skin, from collarbone to navel, and Sienna's stomach contracted. A small, choked sound escaped her lips.
Sienna's shoulders were slim and defined, the lean muscles of a swimmer evident, and her collarbones were sharp and elegant. Elise leaned in and kissed the hollow between them, tasting the salt on Sienna's skin, and felt the vibration of Sienna's moan through her lips.
She reached behind Sienna's back and unclasped her bra with practised ease. The straps slid down Sienna's arms and the bra fell away and Sienna was bare from the waist up. Her breasts were small and firm and her nipples were hard and dark and her breathing was shallow and rapid and her hands were gripping the sofa cushion so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
Elise cupped one breast in her hand, her thumb brushing across the nipple, and Sienna's back arched into the touch. She kissed the other breast, her tongue circling the nipple, drawing it into her mouth, and Sienna's hand flew to the back of her head and pressed her closer.
"Please," Sienna breathed.
Elise took her time. She kissed the hollow of Sienna's throat, the curve of her shoulder, the soft skin below her ear where her pulse was hammering. She kissed down Sienna's sternum, between her breasts, over her ribs. Sienna's stomach muscles trembled beneath her lips. Her skin tasted of salt and clean perfume and underneath both, purely Sienna.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Elise said against her skin.
"Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Her hand went to Sienna's panties and paused. Sienna's eyes were on hers, wide and dark and trusting. Sienna lifted her hips without being asked and Elise pulled the panties down her legs, the fabric sliding off Sienna's ankles and falling to the floor.
Sienna was naked on the sofa in Elise's living room. Completely naked. Her skin golden in the dim light, her body trembling, her legs slightly apart. Elise was on her knees looking up at her and the sight made her head swim.
Elise sat back on her heels and looked at her. Sienna's body was lean and beautiful and trembling. Her stomach was flat, the muscles just visible beneath her skin, and her thighs were toned from the ocean swimming. There was a small birthmark on her left hip and a faint tan line where her watch usually sat. Her feet were bare. Elise had never thought of feet as particularly intimate, but the sight of Sienna's bare feet on the rug, this woman who held herself so tightly in every other context, made her throat tight. The ankle had a thin white scar across it, barely visible, the remnant of the tennis injury Sienna had mentioned. She was real and imperfect and so breathtaking that Elise's pulse roared.
"You see me," Sienna whispered.
"I'm looking at you. And I see you. You are so beautiful, Sienna.”
She parted Sienna’s thighs with her hands and kissed the inside of Sienna's thigh. The skin was soft, almost unbearably soft, and she felt the muscle tense beneath her lips. Then the other thigh. Then higher, her mouth moving with slow, focused intention. Sienna's legs opened wider. Her breathing went ragged.
"Elise..." Sienna's voice was barely audible. Her hand came up and her fingers threaded into Elise's hair, not guiding, just holding. Needing contact.
Elise pressed her mouth against Sienna’s vulva, opening her mouth to run her tongue up the length of her tasting her. Sienna gasped, sharp and sudden, her whole body arching off the sofa cushion. Her fingers tightened in Elise's hair. Elise used her tongue slowly at first, learning her, learning what made Sienna's fingers tighten in her hair and what made her hips rock forward and what made her breathing stop entirely. She was wet and warm and sensitive, responsive to everything, every stroke and press and circle. Elise focused on her clit, alternating betweenbroad, flat strokes and tight, focused circles, and Sienna's responses were a map she was memorising. This pressure made her gasp. This angle made her grip Elise's hair harder. This rhythm made her hips lift off the sofa.
The sounds Sienna was making were quiet, restrained, controlled even in this. As if she was still trying to hold herself back, still keeping a piece of herself locked away, and Elise was having none of it.
"Let go," Elise murmured against her. She pressed the flat of her tongue against Sienna's clit and held. "You don't have to be quiet. I want to hear you."
Sienna's hand tightened in her hair. Elise used her tongue with more pressure, more focus, finding the rhythm that made Sienna's body tense and building on it, relentless and patient. And Sienna's restraint cracked. The sounds changed. Louder. Uncontrolled. Gasps and moans that filled the dark apartment, raw sounds that Elise suspected Sienna had never made before, sounds she'd been keeping locked behind her parents' disciplined silence for years. Her hips moved in rhythm with Elise's mouth, rocking forward, seeking more. Elise gripped her thigh with her good hand and held her steady and gave her more and took her time.
She was in no rush. She could have stayed here all night, between Sienna's legs, listening to her come apart. This was what she'd wanted since the first touch in the medical room, since the first time Sienna's fingers had pressed against her shoulder blade and her world had narrowed to the point of contact.