Page 58 of Quiver

“It’s true,” Kylie said, almost desperate to meet the vulnerability of Fletcher’s honesty with her own. “I started when I was sixteen. Do you know when I stopped?”

Fletcher strained to lift her head, but failed, instead rasping, “When?”

Kylie pressed into her with all the force she could muster before saying, “Never.”

The news sent Fletcher careening. She cried out and nearly doubled over, as her whole body shook. “Kye. Yes. Fuck. Kye.”

She held onto her, using all the core muscles she’d tormented for weeks to keep them both on their feet while the orgasm ripped through the perfection she’d wrapped herself around.

“Kye, yes, Kye.” Fletcher’s chant softened to a whisper.

The name dissolved into a murmur that curled into her chest and tugged at her tighter than any bowstring she’d ever pulled. Kylie fought the urge to melt. She wanted to hold this woman up and ease her down simultaneously, but before she’d fully assessed her ability to do either, Fletcher jerked forward once more, then used her own momentum to spin around and capture her mouth.

Her eyes snapped open, and she straightened in surprise, but she could have no more pulled away than she could’ve willed the seasons to change or the stars to fall. She breathed into the kiss, taking in as much of Fletcher as she could, allowing her body to sag slightly into the strength of the arms around her waist. Fletcher walked her back until they bumped against a stack of hay bales. Then working one hand up to Kylie’s head, she cradled her descent inelegantly into the loose pile along the floor. It wasn’t thick enough or soft enough to constitute comfort, but that wasn’t what either of them craved most in the moment when Fletcher’s body came to rest atop her own.

Fletcher pulled up her shirt enough to expose the pale expanse beneath. The air might’ve been cold, but Kylie had little chance to feel it as rough hands ran insistently over smooth skin. Pushing up under the shirt, Fletcher pulled down the cups of her bra and closed her mouth around one straining nipple.

Kylie bit her lip and arched up as much as the firm body above her would allow. Fletcher used the shift to work the shirt up until together they squirmed enough to slip it off completely. The bra, however, proved entirely too time-consuming or confounding in such an aroused state, because instead of lifting up enough to undo the clasp, they worked together to merely push it off her breasts. Fletcher replaced the cups with her mouth and hand, the heat of her breath making Kylie burn for her.

Shifting her hips, she applied pressure to Kylie’s legs until they parted enough to accommodate her, then using the strength of her thighs, pushed them wide. Kylie’s jeans stretched tight, and she reached down to open them, offering both relief and access. Fletcher wasted no time accepting the invitation and worked her free hand inside. Kylie wriggled enough to create space without separation, and Fletcher found her target with the skill and accuracy she possessed in every arena that ever mattered.

She slid two fingers inside and curled them forward feeling each ridge and rise of Kylie’s body. She cried out as Fletcher began her push and pull, a rhythmic draw and release with all the finesse she might use to sightlessly slot an arrow along a taut string.

Kylie arched for her, chest and hips lifting off the ground as if pulled toward the woman who’d held her at arm’s length for entirely too long.

She would’ve pointed all her wildest impulses in any direction Fletcher chose to aim, but there was nothing else to see but her. Fletcher lifted her head enough to stare down at her, skin glistening, eyes filled with dark intensity, a few curls flattened against her forehead. She rocked forward and back, bringing her thigh up to create extra pressure as she rode Kylie with the same command, artistry, and mastery she poured into every passion she chose to pursue. No wonder Kylie was awed and aroused watching her ride at full tilt toward a target. She looked the same in those moments as she did in this one. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand being the center of such singular focus without combusting, but she didn’t have to wait long, because when Fletcher lowered her head and sucked hard on one nipple, the orgasm slammed through her.

She’d known she was close, and she’d fallen hard enough in the past that she shouldn’t have been surprised at the ferocity, but in her fevered release, she suspected no experience could ever prepare her for the way she reacted to Fletcher. The waves rolled through her with exquisite violence as Fletcher continued to thrust into her relentlessly.

She wanted to call to her, to beg, to plead, to force her to understand, to make them both remember everything she’d known in the moment when she didn’t know anything else, but as even breathing seemed a monumental task, all she managed to gasp was the word that mattered most. “Fletch.”

“Kye,” came the whispered response against the center of her chest. She wasn’t even sure she heard it over the rush of her own heartbeat, but as she slowed almost to a settling point, it came again, this time more raw and raspy. “Kye.”

When the next wave soaked through her, it was less of an aftershock from the sex and more from the force born of twelve years and a million aches shattering around them.

She sank her fingers into those curls again and held Fletcher there, exactly where she was, exactly where they were supposed to be, exactly how they always could’ve been.

Chapter Thirteen

Fletcher’s brain swirled as the sweat soaking her skin began to turn cold against the heat of Kylie’s body beneath her. Still, it wasn’t the temperature causing the shiver along her spine now. No, this one came from deep inside her and worked its way out to invigorate leaden limbs.

Her emotional center shook, suspended between the disbelief over what they’d done and the equal shock that it had taken them so long to reach this point.

She rolled over more fully into the hay and struggled to catch her breath as Kylie lay panting next to her, gloriously bare-chested and flushed in the wintry light streaming through one dust-streaked window. She didn’t know how long they lay in the silent stillness, but it wasn’t long enough to collect herself before Kylie rolled onto her side and regarded her with hazy eyes and a slow smile.

“No.” It was the only word she could manage now, too late and too weak to carry any weight.

Kylie laughed and ran a hand through Fletcher’s curls. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to, and please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Act all smug and satisfied.”

“I’m not smug, and I won’t be satisfied for long.”

Fletcher closed her eyes against the truth of the latter part, but she couldn’t block the panic rising in her, or the way even the slightest brush of Kylie’s fingers in her hair soothed her jangling nerves.