Page 66

Lark inhaled the scent that was all woman—a willing, aroused woman, and all hers. All Seren, and all Lark’s.

And then, Lark allowed herself that dive. She understood she did not know any better. She was aware she was probably doing everything wrong, but above her, Seren keened, her cry sharp, her hips canting forward, and her hands finally let go of the sheets and reached for Lark’s hair and just held, caressing her scalp. Seren did not push or shove or pull, and Lark… Lark felt like she was flying. Like she was living for the very first time. Yes, it would’ve been funny, and she could’ve maybe laughed at it under any other circumstances, to feel this alive face-first in a woman’s pussy. Such a cliché baby-gay thing to feel.

And yet, as Lark licked and sucked and tasted and could not get her fill, Seren’s essence all over her face, she reveled in it. She could not get enough. It was magical. It was magnificent.

Lark spread Seren’s lips and drank from the root, trying to get her tongue into the tight opening as far as she could. Seren keened louder, and Lark figured she must be doing something right.

The book pages swam up in her mind again, telling her to keep constant stimulation. To switch it up somewhat, but be relentless with it too, never letting up, and so Lark did not. Her hand reached upward, playing with Seren’s nipple, and her mouth closed over the hard clit and sucked.

She slid her fingers lower and carefully felt for Seren’s opening, still so unsure, still so afraid, but the hands in her hair encouraged and caressed, and Lark felt bolder, felt braver as she thrust at first one and, when Seren moaned in pleasure, two fingers into the heat and the wet. Lark immediately knew that she was addicted to being inside Seren. She would never ever get enough of this.

Quivering thighs clamped around her head. Seren’s voice was hoarse, calling her name, and as she bowed back like a string, her hands clutching Lark’s hair and her walls clenching around Lark’s fingers, Lark knew she had achieved her purpose. This was what she was made for. To make love to this woman. To lick her and eat her and feel her and make her come over and over again. This was Lark’s church. Lark’s altar. Lark’s ministry. This love.

17

SEREN, MIRRORS & RECOGNITION

The house settled around them just like the warm blankets did. Seren breathed heavily still, and her eyes were open, not quite focusing on the ceiling.

Lark had… undone her. From the research, to highlights and notes, to speaking so carefully about stimulation and all the things she had learned and then the practical application of all this theoretical knowledge…

If Lark read any more of those books, Seren would need an ambulance. That was the honest truth. Meanwhile, Lark was looking down at her with wide, slightly panicked eyes.

“Ah… Lark?” Seren could hear the distinct broken quality to her own voice.

“Are you okay? Was that okay? Did I do okay?”

Yes, there was definitely panic in Lark’s tone.

“I mean, I didn’t follow the book at the end there. Well, not just at the end, but once I tasted your breasts, that was pretty much where my research failed me because, oh my gosh, I am just so so gay for you and I wanted you so much and⁠—”

This woman destroyed you. In all the ways.

Seren could not help it. She burst into giggles. Happy, joyful, belly laughter. Lark’s eyebrows rose high up her forehead, and after a moment, her brow furrowed.

“Seren! Are you laughing at me? Was I that bad?” The panic was gone, and hurt was beginning to seep into the deep blue eyes. Seren sobered up immediately.

She cursed herself for her inappropriate reaction. She shook her head at herself, still, for lacking the proper words. With a touch to Lark’s chin, she lifted her face till they were eye to eye. Then she laid a kiss on the smooth forehead, simply because she could. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady, all traces of laughter gone.

“You were magnificent. You ruined me, Lark. Nothing has ever felt this way. I’m sorry I’m not more eloquent⁠—”

The floor-to-ceiling mirror in the corner of the room caught her eye. What she could not fully express with her words, she could show. She slowly sat up, cradling Lark in her lap, letting her hands roam the still bra-clad torso, then lifted them up, cupping the thin, pale cheeks.

“You were magnificent,” Seren said again and let her lips do more than talking. Let her lips claim, tease and caress. Let her mouth open and her tongue trace the sumptuous lower lip, still tasting like her, which only made her lightheaded.

This woman made her lightheaded. This woman made her weak in the best of ways. She felt like she could move mountains—oceans, if need be—for her, and yet one look at her, one taste of her, turned Seren’s knees to jelly. Good thing she was sitting.

But she had a plan, a plan that still needed to be put in motion. And so she did. Almost effortlessly, she got up, Lark still in her arms, and took the few steps toward the corner of the room.

“Oh, gosh, Seren!” Lark’s eyes were full of wonder. Seren smirked. Two could play the game of surprising each other. And she had quite a lot of ground to make up, since Lark had all but swept her off her feet. She set Lark down gently in front of the mirror and stood behind her, hands on her slim shoulders.

“You once told me that you’re not a big deal. And now, you ask me if you were bad. And I don’t think you understand how enormous everything about you is to me. How amazing. How beautiful. How special. Let me show you? Please.”

Seren could see that Lark’s eyes had closed, her throat worked down and up, and then came a small nod. Tiny, barely there, followed by a more decisive one as the eyes opened. As they met Seren in the mirror. Lark was still wearing her bra and underwear. Seren completely bare. She loved the contrast. And she loved seeing what it did to Lark. The wild blue in her eyes was almost black, her cheeks on fire, and yet she did not look away; she was rooted to the spot, watching the two of them in the mirror.

Seren let her hands gently massage the rigid shoulders, slowly working the knots and lowering the straps of the bra. Lark sighed under her ministrations.

“I keep seeing you everywhere, you know that, Lark?” Seren spoke softly as her fingers toyed with the thin ribbon of silk, pushing it lower and lower down Lark’s arm.