Sienna's thighs tensed. Her back arched off the sofa. Her fingers gripped Elise's hair hard enough to sting, and the sting was glorious. And then she came, a full-body shudder that went through her in waves, her voice breaking on Elise's name, herlegs trembling, her hand pressing Elise's face against her as the orgasm crested and held and finally, slowly, released.
Elise stayed where she was, her mouth gentle now, easing her through the aftershocks, until Sienna's body went slack against the sofa cushions and her hand loosened in Elise's hair. Elise kissed the inside of her thigh and looked up.
Sienna was wrecked. Her eyes were half-closed and glassy, her cheeks flushed a deep rose, her chest heaving. Her dark hair was spread across the back of the sofa. Her lips were parted. Her hands had fallen to her sides, palms up on the cushions. Her expression was one Elise had never seen on her face before, open and stunned and completely unguarded, every wall down, every defence dismantled.
Dr. Park was gone. This was just Sienna.
Elise rested her cheek against the inside of Sienna's thigh and looked up at her. The aftershocks were still moving through Sienna's body, tiny tremors that Elise could feel against her skin. The room smelled of sex and the burned-out candle wax and the breeze drifting through the window she'd left cracked.
"You are incredible," Elise said. She turned her head and kissed Sienna's hip, the small birthmark, soft. "You taste so good.”
Sienna's blush spread down her neck and across her chest. She reached down and cupped Elise's face in both hands and pulled her up and kissed her, deep and slow, tasting herself on Elise's mouth. The kiss was grateful and hungry and tender all at once, and Sienna's tongue pressed against hers and Elise's whole body clenched with how much she wanted this woman.
"I'm not done yet," Elise said against her lips.
Sienna pulled back. Her eyes were wide. "What?"
"I said I'm not done." Elise brushed a strand of dark hair from Sienna's forehead. "I want more of you. Can I?"
The look on Sienna's face, surprise and fresh arousal and the beginnings of disbelief, made Elise's pulse roar. Sienna's lips parted but no words came. She nodded. The nod was small and shaky and full of trust.
Elise kissed her, a soft press of her mouth to the corner of Sienna's lips, and then she lowered herself back down Sienna's body, pressing kisses as she went, sternum, stomach, hip, thigh.
She had all night. She had this beautiful, trembling, extraordinary woman on her sofa, and she was going to use every minute of it.
13
SIENNA
The orgasm was still moving through her in slow, diminishing waves when Elise's mouth returned between her legs.
Sienna gasped. Her body was sensitised, every nerve ending exposed and lit. The first touch of Elise's tongue against her clit sent a jolt through her so sharp that her thighs clamped together involuntarily. Elise eased them apart with her hand, gentle but firm, and settled back between them.
"Too much?" Elise asked, her lips against Sienna's inner thigh.
"Almost. Not quite." Sienna's voice came out in fragments. Her body was deciding for her, overriding the part of her brain that said she was too sensitised, that this couldn't possibly work again so soon. Her hips were already tilting toward Elise's mouth.
Elise understood. She started softer this time, her tongue barely touching, light glancing strokes that let Sienna's body adjust to being touched again. The gentleness was almost worse than the pressure, because it made Sienna want more. Shegripped the sofa cushion and pressed her head back against the armrest and breathed through the slow, building intensity of it.
Elise was between her legs, her good hand on Sienna's thigh, her mouth working with the same patience and focus she'd brought to the first round. But this time was different. Slower. More intentional. As if the first orgasm had been a door opening and now Elise was walking through it, exploring what lay on the other side.
Then Elise's fingers joined her tongue.
Two fingers, pressing slowly inside, and the fullness of it made Sienna's entire body arch off the sofa. She was so wet there was no resistance, just the slow, perfect slide of Elise's fingers filling her, and a sound tore from her throat that she didn't recognise. Raw and guttural and nothing like any noise she had ever made in front of another person.
Elise's fingers began to move in a slow, curling rhythm that matched the strokes of her tongue. The curl hit a spot inside Sienna that made her vision dissolve at the edges.
"Good?" Elise murmured against her, and the vibration of the word sent a fresh pulse of heat through Sienna's body.
"Yes." Her voice was wrecked. "God, yes."
Elise built her slowly. The fingers inside her moved with a slow, curling pressure that found the spot that made Sienna's vision blur, and her tongue kept its rhythm, constant and relentless, and the combination was devastating. The second orgasm was building, different from the first, deeper, a gathering pressure that started in her core and spread outward through her hips and thighs and stomach.
She'd never been touched like this. Not with this combination of skill and tenderness, not with this absolute focus on her pleasure.
She'd had sex before. Three women, over twenty years. Brief encounters that had been more mechanical than meaningful,bodies meeting in the dark, hands going through motions. She had never come with a partner before. She'd assumed the problem was her. Too controlled. Too guarded. Too locked inside her own head to let go of the overthinking and be present in her body. She'd read articles about it, clinical articles in clinical journals, about the connection between emotional repression and sexual responsiveness, and she'd noted them with the same detached interest she brought to all self-analysis and then filed them away.
But Elise was proving every assumption wrong. The problem had never been Sienna's body. Her body was responsive and sensitive and desperate for exactly this. The problem had been that no one had ever touched her with this kind of patience. No one had ever looked at her the way Elise was looking at her now, with awe and hunger and a tenderness that made her chest ache.