Page 74 of Director's Cut

In that moment as I catch my breath, I realize that I haven’t taken the fullest extent of her touch.

“Hey, Maeve?” I say as I pull off the strap.

“Yeah?”

I put my hand over my heart. But maybe it’s time to embrace its racing. “I want you inside me.” The words taste like honey on my lips. I can’t fucking believe I’m saying them.

She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

I take her hand. “Yeah.” I bite my lip. “I probably can’t take much, but…”

“Yeah. I mean, sure, of course.” She smiles, leans in so her breath is tickling my ear. “It’d be my pleasure,” she says, her voice turning into that growl I’ve fantasized about since I met her.

I roll onto my back. “Can I see you, though?” I ask.

She leans over to kiss my nose. “Of course.” She scoots back, sitting on her feet in front of my legs. “Let me know if you want me to go slower, faster, pull out. It’s no big deal if you’re not feeling it.”

I exhale. “Okay.”

She slides a single finger down the middle of my body, from my throat, between my tits, past my scar, curling into a circle around my clit. My breath catches in my throat as I buck against her touch.

She barely grazes the skin inside. I tighten up instinctually, force myself to take another breath and relax. Maeve gives me a little smile and slides her whole finger in.

“This okay?” she asks.

The weird thing is, yeah, it is. It’s—I don’t know if I’d say pleasurable yet. But she’s inside me, nothing hurts, and—and, well, that’s it. Maeve’s inside me. Another girl hasn’t been inside me since Emily, and every session with her was far more grit-my-teeth-and-wait-for-it-to-end than good. Maeve draws gentle circles inside me as her other fingers circle around my clit.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” My breath hitches again as she hits a particularly sensitive spot. “It’s nice.”

“I’m glad,” she says, her voice soft, gentle even.

My muscles strain around her finger, my breath quickening. It feels familiar in a way, but…more. Like my skin is tingling more than it usually does, my muscles are growing more taut with Maeve’s touch. It feels similar to what usually happens, but there’s something else there. I wish I could remember if the G-spot is just an extension of the clit or something else entirely. I’m pretty sure the former. And I’m—Jesus, Maeve curls her fingers in and presses them against my wall, and my brain shuts the fuck up. Because that, combined with whatever magic’s she’s doing outside, that really is amazing.

“God, you’re wet,” she says. “Do you want another finger?”

I exhale. “Yes.”

Another goes in. I never thought it’d actually feel good.

She leans down to kiss me. Tender, heavy, wanting.

“I love you,” she says.

“I love you too,” I echo as she goes back inside me.

It’s okay. Bearable.

And she goes back to the pulsing motion she was doing before. And that bearable turns to good turns to fucking great.

“I’m crazy for you, you know,” I swallow. “I’ve wanted to tell you that I love you for months. So much before tonight.”

“I did too,” she says. “I can’t believe I get to do this.”

And then sex turns into the kind of frenzy I so rarely find myself in.

And when I do come, it’s like a fucking hurricane. Lightning bolts through me, my upper half crunches all the way up. The pleasure rips from between my legs, into my belly, down to my toes. I grab on to Maeve’s arms, bury my face into her chest. And when the pleasure moves from a storm to a patter of rain, I savor the sound of her heart racing in her chest.

I flop onto the bed, pulling Maeve into me as the feeling wanes.