That earned a low laugh. Then Soren’s hands came up, rough palms sliding along Nia’s coat, finding the buttons one by one. She moved with slow certainty, eyes never leaving Nia’s. When the coat fell away, Soren traced the line of Nia’s collarbone through the thin knit of her turtleneck.
Nia shivered. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
Soren’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Only when I’m right.”
Her thumb brushed Nia’s lower lip again—the same touch that had undone her outside. The second kiss was deeper, moredeliberate. Nia answered it without thinking, the last of her control melting into the warmth between them.
The world narrowed to sensation: the scrape of Soren’s jacket zipper against her wrist, the heat of her hand cupping the back of Nia’s neck, the taste of whiskey and cinnamon still lingering on both their tongues.
When they broke apart, Nia’s breathing was uneven. She pressed her forehead against Soren’s shoulder, trying to gather herself. “I don’t do this,” she whispered.
Soren’s hands slid down her arms, steady and sure. “Then don’t think of it asthis. Think of it as breathing again.”
That single sentence unmoored her. Nia lifted her head, eyes searching Soren’s face. The flicker of light caught in those dark eyes—so open, so certain—and something in Nia finally gave way.
She reached for Soren’s shirt, tugging her closer. The movement was awkward, half-desperate, but Soren just laughed softly, kissed the corner of her mouth, and guided her back until the backs of Nia’s knees hit the edge of the bed.
When Nia looked up, Soren was watching her with quiet intensity. Not gloating, not demanding—justthere, steady and grounding.
“You okay?” Soren asked.
Nia nodded, voice barely more than a whisper. “Better than okay.”
Soren smiled, brushing a thumb along Nia’s cheek. “Good.”
Nia gasped as she felt Soren beginning to strip her clothes from her. She felt exposed suddenly, down to her underwear.
A shiver ran through her as Soren’s next touch was hands behind her back, unclasping her bra. Suddenly her breasts were freed and the white lace of her bra was on the floor.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Soren growled as her eyes looked down over Nia’s body.
She hadn’t had sex with her wife in years. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time (if ever) she had been this turned on.
But right here, right now, on this bed, she felt wet. Very wet. Her white lace panties were the only thing now left between her and Soren’s hands.
“What do you want?” Soren said as she leant forwards over Nia and Nia felt her breathing quicken. She felt Soren’s hands at her hips beginning to roll her panties down.
She gasped.
She still felt the warmth from the whiskey she had had earlier. She felt more confidence than she might have otherwise as she raised her hips to let Soren remove her panties.
“You don’t have the words, Doc?” Soren flitted her gaze between looking her in the eyes and looking long and lingering down over her body and between her legs. Nia watched as her gaze fixed on Nia’s pussy and Soren licked her lips.
“So I think maybe you don’t normally submit to women. But tonight, I think that is what you want. And that is why you don’t have the words. I think you want me to take control of this so you don’t have to make the choice yourself.”
Nia felt Soren’s fingers run down over her pussy, teasing her wet folds. She let out a moan.
“Oh…”
It felt so good. Nia felt desperate for sex in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling.
“I think,” Soren said as her fingers got more insistent with their investigation of her pussy, “you want me to fuck you. I think you want me to fuck you so hard, you forget all the other shit you are carrying around. Is that right?”
All Nia could do was nod. And seconds later, Soren’s fingers plunged deep inside her. Soren was rough, not tender and it was exactly what Nia wanted. Nia felt Soren above her, beginning to fuck her. Deep thrusts inside her, opening her wide. Nia’swhole focus reduced to that point deep inside her that Soren was hitting every time her fingers thrust into her.
This wasn’t the kind of sex Nia had. Not with her wife, and before that, not with anyone. Nia felt her legs parting further of their own accord before Soren lifted her left leg until it was over Soren’s shoulder and then she thrust into her harder.
“Let it all go for me, Doc,” Soren’s voice was a low growl.
