She was losing herself, unable to stop her low cries or the way she fucked herself on Lola’s fingers while she tried to grind herself onto the soft muscle of her tongue.
“I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she begged, her nerves lighting up like fireworks.
Lola crooked her fingers, switching from that persistent licking to deep sucking.
That was all it took.
Calliope sank her teeth into her own palm, spine arching, her cunt clenching around Lola’s fingers as her release pulsedthrough her, her whole body shaking as she fought to stay quiet. Lola removed her mouth, but kept her fingers there, letting her ride the waves of the aftershocks that twitched through her, planting chaste kisses on her hip, her belly, wherever her mouth could reach.
By the time her hand slipped free, Calliope’s legs felt like they were made of jelly.
Lola stood, face damp, eyes bright, towel just how she’d left it, regal as a fucking queen.
Calliope drew her in, kissing her slow and deep, sucking the taste of herself from Lola’s tongue with a quiet moan. When they broke apart, she found Lola looking at her like she was the lucky one and not the other way around.
“Fix your face,” she teased gently, pushing Calliope’s wet hair behind her ears. “You look wrecked.”
“I am wrecked,” she admitted. “You wrecked me. You always do. Every time.”
Lola smiled, kissing her slowly once more before asking, “Want me to blow dry your hair for you?”
Calliope let her eyes rake over her wife’s towel clad form. “You don’t want me to return the favor?”
“Oh, I do. But later, when we’re alone in our room at Thomas’s, where the walls aren’t made of hopes and dreams,” Lola said.
“”Should I dip into the toy box?” Calliope offered. “Pack some extras?”
Lola nodded. “Mm, surprise me.”
Dimitri’s voice cut through their afterglow like a samurai sword, sharp and final. “Mom,” he called again dramatically. “Please, it’s Christmas Eve and we’re starving.”
“We are not,” Arlo called after him.
“Well, maybe a little,” Cricket added…from somewhere.
The walls were too thin in this place.
Calliope made a sad noise as Lola slipped her fingers free, locking eyes with her before sliding them into her own mouth, sucking the taste of her off her fingers.
The deliberate slowness of it felt cruel in the most intimate way, a promise dangled just out of reach.
“You’re evil,” Calliope said, swallowing loudly, her pulse still racing, heat curling low in her belly.
“You’re delicious,” Lola countered with a wink, unrepentant.
“To be continued,” Calliope muttered, half a threat, half a plea.
“Oh, most definitely.”
They left their bathroom, both of them dressing while staring longingly at the other. The air still felt warm and damp, scented faintly with soap and skin, clinging to them like an echo. Calliope now uncomfortably horny and unsatisfied, Lola smug and gloating.
She groaned when Lola dropped her towel, bending down to slide on a pair of red panties that showcased the swell of her hips and her generous ass. The sight alone was enough to make Calliope’s hands twitch.“Stop being such a tease.”
Lola’s laugh filled the space like church bells, bright and utterly unapologetic.
They dressed quickly, easy and practiced, bumping into each other in the small bedroom, stealing one more kiss before putting on their clothes. It was the kind of casualintimacy that came from years of knowing exactly how to move around each other without thinking.
Calliope donned a pair of black sweatpants and what was almost certainly Dimitri’s hoodie, the sleeves too long, the fabric soft and lived-in. Lola dragged on a cropped Christmas sweater and a pair of faded denim overalls. They had hours to go before they needed to get ready to leave for Thomas’s house but Lola looked festive enough to make Calliope’s heart do a little dance behind her ribs. She loved this time of year. She loved her life. She loved her family. Everything. She was just…happy.
