Our thighs slide sensually and interlock, our hips moving in sync. She grips my ass, her thumb rubbing unerringly over my beads, encouraging the needy grind of my hips, while I have one hand squeezing her breast and pinching her nipple, the other gripping her tight around her own rolling waist.
We’re both almost gasping. She shoves my thigh up higher around her waist, spreading her own legs and tilting her hips until she has her pussy pressed right against mine. My entire body jolts forward, a soft, needy cry escaping my lips.
“Fuck,” she growls. The glide is so wet its sinful, the strokes of our swollen clits against each other sending sparks shooting up my legs, fire settling in my belly, further tightening my nipples.
“Yes, oh my God,fuck, fuck—” I’m gripping her ass tight, matching the movement of her hips with my own.
“Jesusfuck, Rosemary,” she cries when she comes, her body stiffening.
She leans down to suck on my tits through the flimsy netting of my nightie, shifting until she has her thigh rubbing firmly against my clit, and I come with a choked cry.
We melt into the bed, breathing hard, holding each other. My right hand rests between the modest curves of her soft breasts, feeling her heart race in tandem with mine.
It’s going to take some time, I think, for this to really feel real. For me to truly accept that she’s mine. Right now I’m still in awe, still trying desperately not to hold on too tight for fear of crushing her, a butterfly caught willingly in my grasp.
“You really haven’t been with anyone else?” she asks suddenly.
My eyes meet hers. Her gaze is stripped bare.
“No one else.” I’d lost interest in a lot of things after we’d split up. Giving her up had felt like giving up on everything. My mother confirming my fears—therealreason I’d left Genevieve in the first place—had only worsened it.
I’d been an automaton the last ten years until I’d seen her again—suddenly, I remembered I had a heart, a body made of flesh and blood and bone.
Her hand cups mine, holding it to her thumping heart. “No one else,” she echoes softly.
We stare at each other for a weighted moment, words unneeded.
“How do you feel?” I’d forgotten to ask, earlier. The reminder that she’d cut me open and literally eaten my heart makes me shiver, my body going simultaneously hot and cold.
“In love,” she answers dreamily.
“Genevieve.” I roll my eyes.
“What?” She laughs. I yelp as she yanks me close, giggling when she buries her face in my throat and snuffles, like a dog. “Allow me, abeg.”
I laugh helplessly. “I love you.”
“Mm. I love you.”
“But I’m serious. Are you … are you really all right?”
She pulls back to look at me. “Yes, omemi,” she murmurs. As usual, my heart skips at the endearment. “I’m good, I promise.” She kisses my forehead. Then my nose. Then my mouth. I tremble. “Youdiedfor me,” she says thickly, the emotion in her voice making my eyes sting, “and you brought me back to life.”
I’m standing at the base of a magnificent tree, in a clearing that feels strangely familiar. It’s nighttime, everything around me bathed in the soft, cool glow of the moon. Nothing here feels bad. Like it could hurt me. I’m not back in Maraya Forest, but somehow, it still feels like home.
The tree is incredible. My neck cranes as I try to catch a glimpse of the top and I nearly fall backward; it’s that tall. I look down at the huge roots, some as big as my torso, twisting around each other as they make their way into the ground.
There’s an opening where two of the thick intertwined roots part. A hole big enough for someone my size to crawl through.
I take one last glance around, then make my way to the hole, dropping to my hands and knees. I don’t know what I expect, but what I get are more gnarled, interconnecting roots, going deep, deep down into the ground. There’s no earth between them, just empty air, which gives me space and breathing room to grab onto each root and start to climb down.
It feels like it goes down forever. I’m sweating, breathing hard. My arms and my legs hurt. Despite how deep it is, I can still see the faint light of the moon above; even the darkness below me, thick and complete, doesn’t feel like it wants to swallow me only to never spit me back out.
The fear only comes when the light of the moon fades, drenching me in awful darkness. No matter how long I wait, my eyes refuse to adjust. Critters scuttle around in the silence, the sound of their many, tiny limbs making my hairs stand on end, my throat filling with bile.
I think of going back up, but I’ve come down too far.
Desperately, I continue my descent, my eyes wide for any sign of light or danger.
