Page 62 of Loving Jemima
She leaned in, kissing Ellie slowly and fully, letting her tongue slide into her mouth as Ellie moaned against her. The heat in her stomach expanded, flowing down to other places, making her pulse beat hard, making her heart beat hard, until she was pressing into Ellie like she could meld their bodies together.
Then she found a modicum of control. She pulled back. “Bedroom?” she whispered hoarsely.
She didn’t wait for an answer, taking Ellie’s hand and startingto pull her away from the sink, pull her away from the bar.
“Stop,” Ellie panted as they rounded the corner of the bar.
Jem turned to see what was wrong, only to be greeted by Ellie’s hot kisses, Ellie’s hands cupping her face, Ellie pressing her closer.
“Don’t think I’ll make it that far,” Ellie mumbled into her mouth.
Jem half-laughed until she felt Ellie’s hands pushing up under her shirt, felt Ellie take her waist to pull her even closer. Then she groaned. “There’s a perfectly good floor here,” she said.
But Ellie was already groping upward, her hands greedy to touch Jem’s body, forcing their way under Jem’s bra, pinching at her nipples until Jem was seeing stars.
“Sorry, sorry,” Ellie said as Jem groaned through gritted teeth. “Getting carried away.”
“Nope,” Jem said, reaching for Ellie’s shirt and stepping back just long enough to yank it over her head. “You’re not getting carried away.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” panted Ellie, eyes starting to close as Jem scratched nails lightly up her spine.
“Not possible.”
In response, Ellie pushed Jem’s bra up and leaned down the tiniest fraction to circle her tongue around Jem’s nipple.
“More,” Jem said, breath rasping in her throat. She couldn’t remember ever being this turned on, couldn’t remember ever wanting anything so much. Pressure was building up inside her, like she was a volcano waiting to blow. The touch of Ellie’s hands set her on fire, so much so that she was already panting, already wet and ready and waiting.
“More?” Ellie purred.
Jem nodded, unable to speak now since Ellie’s fingers were insinuating themselves under the waistband of her trousers.
Ellie put her hands on Jem’s waist and turned her, pushed her, so that her hands were on the bar and her back was to Ellie. Then her trousers were being pushed down and Jem laid her forehead on the cold stone of the bar as Ellie’s hands traced up the insideof her thighs.
“Hurry,” she managed to say, not at all sure she could wait.
Ellie didn’t tease her, didn’t make her wait at all. Her fingers came up, dipped inside wetness, and Jem could hear her sharp intake of breath and almost dissolved. She parted her legs further, giving Ellie better access as she reached around from behind.
Those strong, long fingers stroked upward and Jem let out a cry as they found a rhythm. It was like the whole world disappeared under those fingers, everything faded away except the exquisite sensation of being touched.
Jem struggled to get her breath, struggled to keep still as the feeling of being touched almost overwhelmed her.
“Relax,” whispered Ellie, pressing against her from behind. “Just let it come.”
With pure force of will, Jem made her muscles relax, only for them to instantly tense up again as Ellie quickened the pace and then there was nothing that Jem could do, no power on Earth that could stop this. It started as a low hum and built up to a crescendo that made her legs shake and her eyes squeeze shut and her thighs tighten around Ellie’s hand.
After, it was hard to get her breath, tiny hiccups of sensation still running through her.
“You know,” Ellie said conversationally from behind her, “there is such a thing as foreplay.”
“Mmm,” was all Jem could say.
“Although I suppose it’s a good idea to save something for next time.”
She laughed breathlessly and then turned, facing Ellie and bringing her into her arms. “Next time? We’re not done with this time yet.”
“Are we not?” Ellie asked, eyes cloudy and lips swollen.
“Not even close,” said Jem. “For a start, you’re wearing far too many clothes.”