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"I'm going to ride your face now," she tells me, and my heart rate picks up, my breath shudders. "And I want your tongue. I want you to fuck me with it until it's aching, and then I'm going to come in your mouth, Natalie. And you're going to have to swallow every drop."
I moan impatiently, lifting my face higher so that she can seat herself, and I press my tongue into her hole, just as she commanded. "Yes," she pants out. "Yes, that's a good girl. Now fuck me, darling."
I do exactly as she asks,tongue-fucking her pussy, open-mouthed andwet and messy, letting her ride my face, hermoans muffled by the silky thighs that are pressing against my ears, but I feel all of her heat and herwet, feel her shudder as I use my tongue on her, snake an arm around so I can get my fingers on her clit.
I can feel her rolling her hips faster, harder, and I'm matching her, my tongue buried in her pussy, when I feel it—her own tongue stabbing into my clit, lashing at it like she's trying to provoke me. I buck, try to get more of it, and she gives in, settles her whole mouth over me, and gives a slow, increasingly-hard suck at my clit until I arch off the couch with a strangled yell.
"Oh, you like that?" Alessa murmurs. She slides her tongue over it and then she does it again, the pressure sending all my nerve endings into overdrive, my body jerking under her even as she continues to fuck my mouth. I'm helpless, writhing, moaning and begging into her pussy. "That's a good girl," she croons again, as I thrust my tongue deep into her. "So good for me."
She's so wet and so open that I feel the orgasm taking her before she starts moaning it out, her body shaking and quaking. I hold her hips as she rocks against me, her pussy gushing a little extra into my mouth as she comes.
And then I stay there, my tongue buried in her, my nose filled up with her, as she bends again to eat me, wide-mouthed and moaning as her post-orgasm shudders keep thrilling through her. When takes my clit in her mouth, sucks hard and then gives it a little twist with her tongue, that's when I burst, my whole body on fire under her, and she stays on me, tongue lashing, even as I struggle to push her away, because I can't take any more.
I've never come so hard in my life. And just as the peak of my bliss dies away, the sofa gives a loud, ominous creak, before the legs give out, and it crashes down on one side, making us both tumble off, shrieking in surprise and then laughter.
"I was right," I pant at last. "It couldn't take it."
"Just as well we have the other one at my place," she pants back. "And hell, what a way for it to go. Right?"
I roll over on the floor and give her a sloppy kiss. "Whata way for it to go," I agree. "Alessa de Luca, Destroyer of Couches, I love you."
CHAPTER30
ALESSA
SEVERAL MONTHS LATER
The grand opening of the newly expanded Anna's Kitchen is a bustling kaleidoscope of hope and community. There's a sea of people—socialites, politicians, celebrities are rubbing elbows with the women and children who use the services of the kitchen. Staff are scurrying about, or sliding behind the banquets to help serve out food.
Natalie and I worked in close consultation with Anna, of course, but Anna has never been much interested in paperwork. She left most of it up to us, approving things as we suggested them. So now, the once-dingy soup kitchen has been extended into a full, working shelter, a haven adorned with vibrant colors that seem to dance off the walls, just as I always imagined.
I've always though of Anna's Kitchen as a place ofhope, not a last resort. And now it actually feels that way.
I swap serving shifts with Liana, who insisted on coming to help today, and I gratefully pull off the hairnet as I leave her to it. These hairnets are vital for the work, but still ugly. I wish Marc Jacobs would consider adding a few in his next accessories collection. Perhaps I'll have a word with him.
"Alessa!" The new shelter's new manager, Deanna, hurries over, her face flushed with excitement. She was agreathire. Natalie's pick. "I wanted to say congratulations, and thank you for the opportunity to work here."
I give her an impulsive hug. "It's pretty darn satisfying, right?"
She hugs me back, laughing, and then rushes off to make sure there are enough forks available on each long table.
As I walk through the crowd, I pause to greet the people who have come to support Anna's Kitchen. I embrace old friends and make new ones, laughing along with their stories as if we'd known each other for years. I'm in my element here: building connections, bridging gaps, and using those links and networks to help those who need it most.
A young girl approaches me hesitantly, clutching a bouquet of paper flowers. "Miss de Luca, I made this for you," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the din of the party.
"Thank you, sweetheart," I say, bending down to accept the gift. I take a moment to appreciate the simple joy in the mass of colored paper, and blink back the sudden stinging in my eyes. "My goodness, you've got quite the talent there." Her face lights up, and my heart beats a little faster to see the pure joy that radiates from her.
If I can change even one life for the better, then it's all been worth it.
This can be my legacy. I can move out of the shadows of my past, into a future filled with hope and love.
And Natalie. God, where is she? I lost sight of her when I went to serve out food, and I have a sudden, desperateneedfor her.
I catch a glimpse of her across the room, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd, always on alert even in the midst of celebration. You can take the girl out of the FBI… I grin to myself. But despite her guarded exterior, I can see the warmth and love that I know lies under the cool surface.
As I approach her, our eyes meet, and she smiles, a smile that lights up her beautiful brown eyes. The noise of the party fades into the background as we share a quiet, intimate moment.
"Fancy meeting you here," I tease as I take her hand.
