Ivy closed her eyes, unable to take the increasing pleasure. She resisted the urge to wrap her legs around Celeste and pull her closer, wanting instead to see what she’d do next. How she would keep teasing her.
Celeste moved her other hand back down, tracing the soft dip of Ivy’s waist and supple curve of her hip. She kissed Ivy right on her clit over her panties before looking up to meet Ivy’s gaze. Ivy blinked back, a silentyesthat she wanted more, and Celeste peeled her black lacy panties down over her hips, down her thighs, and over her knees til they fell down her leg. Ivy kicked them off to the floor, and Celeste took that opportunity to bury her face in between Ivy’s legs, running her tongue in between Ivy’s folds.
Ivy’s breath caught in her throat as she felt Celeste’s tongue swirl against her, and she rocked her hips in rhythm. When Ivy lifted her ass off the bed to get closer to her, Celeste licked two fingers and slid them inside her. Celeste’s fingers curled up to meet the spot that made Ivy see stars as her hands pawed over her body, and Ivy ground her hips in the bed, resisting the urge to let it all loose right away. She wanted it continue longer, to feel Celeste inside her, on top of her.
While her fingers worked their magic, Celeste’s tongue flicked against Ivy’s clit, then she sucked it and hummed, “You like that, baby?”
Ivy couldn’t handle it anymore, and her orgasm crashed around her as waves of pleasure rippled through her body, tensing up every muscle, her thighs clenching around Celeste’s head.
It didn’t deter Celeste, though, who kept licking her clit and between her slit until Ivy pushed her away, gasping for air. She lay motionless for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and see properly again, and Celeste came up to lay next to her, tracing the soft line of her jaw.
Celeste turned Ivy’s face, and Ivy stared at Celeste, mesmerized by the woman who could make her feel things nobody else had made her feel. She leaned in to capture Celeste’s warm lips with her own, tasting herself on her tongue.
Ivy made a move to sit up, but Celeste pushed her back down against the bed gently. Ivy looked at her quizzically. “Your turn,” she said, desire lacing every syllable.
Celeste stared back, and Ivy felt like she wasn’t just looking at her eyes but something deeper, and Celeste simply smiled. “Tonight is for you.” Then Celeste stretched out her arm and pulled Ivy in closer til Ivy’s cheek was flush against Celeste’s chest.
The last thing Ivy remembered before drifting off to sleep was Celeste’s heartbeat matching the rhythm of her own.
7
CELESTE
The snow crunched beneath their boots as Celeste and Ivy walked through the quiet streets, their breath misting in the cold night air. The town had transformed since the festival, its once-bustling atmosphere now calm and serene under a blanket of freshly fallen snow. The only sounds were the soft shuffle of their footsteps and the distant rustle of the wind as it swirled through the branches, shaking loose the last remnants of autumn leaves.
Christmas lights blinked softly from the eaves of the houses they passed, casting warm hues of red and gold onto the snow below. Celeste’s eyes followed the patterns the lights made, the way they flickered gently in the winter air, and a part of her wished she could step into that warmth—into the soft, quiet simplicity of this world. The thought was unsettling, as though some part of her was being drawn into a place she knew she didn’t belong. But being with Ivy—hearing her talk, watching the way her breath formed tiny clouds in front of her—somehow made that thought less frightening.
“I’ve always loved walking home in the snow after the festival,” Ivy said, her voice carrying warmth despite the cold.She glanced over at Celeste, a smile playing at her lips. “It’s like the world gets quieter, just for a little while. It used to be my favorite part of the season as a kid.”
Celeste listened, the nostalgia in Ivy’s words softening something inside her. She imagined a younger Ivy with a wild mane of curls, walking home on snowy nights, her head filled with innocent excitement of holiday joy. It struck Celeste how foreign those experiences seemed to her—how she’d never really allowed herself to revel in the simple beauty of a quiet night like this.
Ivy continued, her voice tender as she shared stories of the bakery and growing up in the town. “It was my mom’s favorite too. We’d walk hand in hand, and even if we had a long day at the bakery, she’d still take the time to make the walk special. She’d point out all the decorations people put up, and we’d stop to admire the best ones.”
Celeste nodded, though she couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing as Ivy spoke. That kind of connection—between a mother and daughter, or even between a person and a place—was something Celeste had never experienced. It wasn’t just the love and care Ivy described; it was the ease with which she talked about them, as though they were part of her core. For Celeste, these emotions felt distant, like echoes of something she could never quite grasp.
As they neared the bakery, Celeste noticed the way Ivy glanced toward the building, her smile widening at the sight of the warm glow inside. Celeste tried to ignore the stirrings in her chest, that unsettling sensation that grew stronger every time she found herself drawn to Ivy, to this town, to something she knew she couldn’t fully allow herself to want.
They stepped inside, and the sudden rush of warmth enveloped them. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting a soft orange glow over the room, and Celeste felt a wave of reliefas the cold from outside melted away. Ivy untangled the scarf from her neck, a small puff of air escaping her as she sat down on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her and pulling a blanket over her lap.
“You want tea? Or something stronger?” Ivy asked, her eyes twinkling as she glanced at Celeste.
Celeste hesitated before shaking her head. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
Ivy shrugged, as if to say the offer still stood if she changed her mind. She looked comfortable there, with the soft lamplight reflecting off her curls, her cheeks still flushed from the cold. Celeste, on the other hand, remained more rigid, as though afraid that letting herself relax might cause her to lose the control she’d spent so long perfecting.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence filled only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the muffled sound of snow falling outside. The room felt smaller in this quiet, as though the space between them was closing in, leaving Celeste no room to hide behind her protective armor.
“I’ve never really talked much about my past,” Celeste said after a while, her voice low, almost tentative. “Not with anyone.”
Ivy didn’t respond right away, but her eyes flicked up to meet Celeste’s, warm and patient. She didn’t press, didn’t push for more than what Celeste was willing to give. It was that understanding—so different from anything Celeste was used to—that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could open up. Even if only a little.
“I’ve always been the one in control,” Celeste continued, her gaze focused on the fire as she spoke. “In business, in life. It’s how I’ve stayed ahead, how I’ve kept everything in order.”
“And you’re good at it,” Ivy said softly.
“But sometimes…” Celeste’s voice caught as she tried to find the right words. She didn’t even know what she wanted to say,only that something had shifted in her. She couldn’t deny the way Ivy, and even Ellie, had started to melt away the edges of the walls she’d built. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.”
The confession hung in the air between them, vulnerable and raw. Celeste had spent so many years protecting herself, shielding her heart from anyone who might try to breath through, that the thought of letting someone in felt both terrifying and inevitable.
