Page 59 of Minha Dona

“I need to what, Gatinha?”

Caitlin looked at her. Her eyes were blazing with desire, frustration, and the looming orgasm that she’d been edging towards for hours now and could finally feel herself creeping towards the point of no return with. Creeping towards it, though, because Helena knew that level eight felt very good, but also that level eight would take some time to push her over the edge.

“I need you to either stop or let me finish,” Caitlin whispered. “Because I’m very close, and we’re in public, and I don’t think I can hold it much longer.”

Helena looked at her across the café table. Caitlin’s composure was impeccable to anyone who wasn’t looking closely… she was sat straight, her hands around her coffee cup, her expression neutral. But Helena was looking closely and she could see everything: the rapid pulse in Caitlin’s throat, the flush creeping up from her chest, the white knuckles, the tiny movements of her hips that she probably wasn’t even aware of, her body’s instinct to chase the pressure, to grind into it.

She’s magnificent, Helena thought. Truly magnificent… hours of this and she’s holding herself together. She’s doing better than I did when I was in her shoes. She hid her smile at the memory of doing this with her ex, although he’d not been as gentle with Helena as Helena was being with Caitlin. This isn’t submission… this is strength. The force of nature channelling everything she has into staying composed while her body screams at her to let go.

Helena made her decision. She picked up the remote, held Caitlin’s gaze, and slid the setting to ten.

Caitlin’s jaw clenched. Her eyes closed, just for a second, and a moan escaped her lips… too quiet for anyone else to hear, but Helena heard. She really did hear.

“Look at me,” Helena murmured. “Don’t close your eyes. Look at me and let it happen, Gatinha.”

Caitlin opened her eyes and locked them on Helena’s. The world around them, the café, the waiter, the couple at the next table, the dog, the street, São Paulo, all of it faded to nothing. There was only Helena’s eyes and Caitlin’s eyes and the relentless, climbing pleasure between Caitlin’s legs.

“That’s it,” Helena said quietly, so quietly that only Caitlin could hear. “Let go, Gatinha. Right here. Nobody will know but me, and I want you to, my perfect Gatinha. Cum for me, right now.”

Caitlin came.

It was the most controlled, most internal, most invisible orgasm Helena had ever witnessed. Caitlin’s eyes stayed locked on Helena’s, her expression barely changing… a tightening around the eyes, a slight parting of the lips, a long, slow exhale that could have been a sigh of contentment to anyone who happened to glance over. Her hands tightened on the coffee cup and her body went very still, every muscle focused on containing an explosion, and Helena could see the waves rolling through her, the clenching, the pulsing, the shuddering release… all of it hidden, all of it silent, all of it happening in plain sight in a café on a side street in São Paulo on a Sunday afternoon.

It lasted longer than Helena expected. She kept the device at ten throughout, and Caitlin rode through it with her eyes on Helena, not looking away, not breaking, trusting Helena to guide her through this.

When it was over, when Caitlin whispered, “Vermelho,” Helena turned the device off immediately.

There was silence between them, while the café carried on around them.

The waiter asked if they’d like anything else. “We’re fine, thank you,” Helena said pleasantly in Portuguese. “Just the bill.”

The waiter left and Helena looked at Caitlin, who was looking back at her with an expression that Helena would remember for the rest of her life. Not gratitude exactly, not afterglow, but something more complete… the look of a woman who’d just been given an experience that she didn’t know she needed, in a way she didn’t know was possible, by the only person in the world who could have done it.

“You,” Caitlin said, her voice a little shaky, “are extraordinary, Minha Dona.”

Helena flashed a grin. “You’re the one who just climaxed silently in a café.”

“Because you made me. Because you edged me for five hours and then held my eyes and told me to let go.” Caitlin shook her head slowly. “Nobody else could do that to me. Nobody.”

Helena reached across the table and took her hand. They sat like that for a moment, two women at a café table, holding hands, looking at each other, the secret they shared as vast and as invisible as the city around them.

“Ready to go home?” Helena asked.

“Very ready.” Caitlin stood, slightly unsteady, and Helena caught her elbow. “Can we walk slowly to start with?”

“I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’ve already lost most of my dignity today. Why not lose the rest of it?”

“You’ve lost nothing. You were perfect.” Helena kissed her cheek. “My perfect, brave, composed Gatinha.”

Chapter 22

Helena had been asleep for maybe an hour when she felt lips on her shoulder.

I’m dreaming, she thought, just dreaming.

It was a good dream though… the lips seemed real, warm, insistent, pressing a trail of slow kisses from her shoulder to her neck. And to go with the lips, a hand on her hip and a woman’s body pressed against her back, naked skin on naked skin.