Lost in Lucia’s heady taste, Penelope continued to draw it out, mixing both speed and pressure to push Lucia to the edge, only to draw back right before she could tumble over the cliff.
But then Lucia whimpered, and the sound tore at Penelope, increasing the ache between her own legs, and so this time, she followed through, never ceasing in her efforts to make Lucia come.
Panting, Lucia’s hips moved along Penelope’s rhythm until she halted in a suspended moment, her entire body stilling before she shuddered in prolonged quakes.
“Penelope,” she gasped, voice breaking over the syllables.
She slowed her ministration and stopped when Lucia pulled at her upper arms. Penelope moved up and hovered over Lucia. “Are you all right?”
A low laugh seemed to rumble straight from Lucia’s chest. “Better than all right.”
“I’m glad.” Penelope sank into a kiss.
Lucia nipped at her lower lip, breaking the kiss. She gazed up at Penelope, her eyes twin coals, so intense, Penelope braced herself.
“Ride me.” Lucia lifted her thigh and slotted it between Penelope’s legs.
Penelope opened her mouth to protest, but the feeling of Lucia’s hot, muscled thigh pressing against her heat, even with her now damp panties on, robbed her of every argument against this most delicious of ideas.
“Yes,” Penelope breathed, bending to kiss Lucia while gyrating her hips, chasing her release.
~ ~ ~
Later, they settled on the couch. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, warming Penelope’s bare legs as she tucked them beneath her. Lucia was drafting in a sketchbook while Penelope read a book. She snapped it shut after a while and observed Lucia, marveling at her utter absorption in her task.
“Remember when we talked about the idea that some things are so essential to us, we’d find our way there no matter what?” Penelope asked.
Lucia looked up, pausing her drawing. “Of course. You thought of something?”
“Yes and no.” Penelope exhaled slowly. “I’ve turned it over in my mind ever since. Searching. But the truth is…I keep comingup empty. Maybe there just isn’t anything like that for me.” She traced a fingertip along the book’s spine.
Lucia tilted her head. “And that bothers you?”
“A little.” Penelope’s mouth curved in a grimace. “People who have that kind of anchor seem…fulfilled. I can’t shake the feeling I’m missing something.”
“Maybe. But it can cut the other way, too.” Lucia’s voice softened. “Obsession eats at you. It chains you to one thing while everything else withers. I’ve lost chances at friendships—seedlings that could’ve grown into something—because I couldn’t tear myself away from a canvas.”
Penelope looked down. “Still. I can’t point to anything that defines me like that.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“Oh? Enlighten me, Ms.Rossi.”
“You’d always chase truth,” Lucia said simply. “Even if it wrecks you. That’s who you are. You pull at loose threads until you unravel the whole thing. It’s not a choice—it’s who you are. Just like I bleed into paint, you bleed into clarity. Neither of us could stop if we tried.”
Penelope stared at her, speech caught somewhere in her throat. “Isn’t that even worse than nothing? A compulsion instead of a calling?”
“Every gift is double-edged,” Lucia said. “But where would we be without people who can’t help but drag the truth into the light?”
Penelope let out a laugh, surprising herself. “You make it sound noble.”
“You’re rubbing off on me,” Lucia said with a sigh. “It’s a burden, really.”
Penelope nudged her shoulder, smiling despite herself. “Watch it.”
They spent the rest of the day in easy silence, and for once, Penelope allowed herself to simply be.
~ ~ ~
