Graceless - Page 70

“What if,” she started, then pushed them onto their back, sitting up beside them. She gripped the cock again. “Would this feel good for you?” She pressed it firmly against their body and this time she leaned down and gently swirled her tongue around the top of it. Lane nearly blacked out. “Yeah?” she murmured, her eyes dark as she saw them respond.

“Mmhm,” Lane croaked, and Cassidy smiled. She proceeded to use the base of the dildo to masturbate them, while taking the head of the cock into her mouth, her blue eyes flicking up to watch their face as her head bobbed, occasionally drawing back to lick the tip luxuriously. Lane couldn’t even cope, the heat of the visual, the friction of her touch, the pure sex in Cassidy’s eyes; their orgasm crashed through them so powerfully it was almost painful.

Cassidy sat back, her eyes incredibly smug, and watched them pant, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“Oh, you liked that,” she smiled with obvious pride.

“Y-yeah,” they stuttered, feeling almost deranged from the pleasure they’d just experienced.

They lay in each other’s arms, Cassie’s fingers trailing slowly up and down their chest and Lane’s heart couldn’t seem to slow down. Cassidy tilted her head up to consider them, and Lane couldn’t stop from kissing her again if they’d tried. Cassidy kissed them back, then pulled just out of reach.

“I don’t want you to date Mia,” she said plainly, and Lane almost laughed.

“Uh, yeah, I got that bit,” they reassured her. Cassidy didn’t smile though; she looked deadly serious.

“I don’t want you to date anyone,” she reiterated, propping her chin on her elbow to examine them. “Just… me.”

“Cass.” They reached up and cupped her jaw. “Do you remember when you kissed a bartender that time?”

Cassie smirked.

“I do,” she poked them in the chest. “You’d prefer me not to fuck other people,” she mused.

“Well, yeah,” Lane rolled their eyes, trying not to glare at the thought, even as they pulled her a little closer. Cassidy laughed. Then she took a deep breath and got to where she’d clearly been going.

“I think,” she said lightly, as if she wasn’t deeply invested in the answer, “that what you want… is to be my… boyfriend?” She paused over the word, her eyes on Lane’s face.

Lane’s fingers twitched as they pulled her in, tighter again, a small flame of want that had been kindling in their chest since the night Cassidy had first used that word about them, bursting into light.

“Yeah,” they said softly. “I kinda do want that.”

They felt Cassidy smile into their kiss.

“Well,” she said. “I’ll consider it.”

Lane felt warm all the way through their body.

“That’s all I ask,” they said, kissing her again and then again. They felt a weird urge to cry again, even as they couldn’t stop smiling against her mouth. They ran their hand down their body to her pubic bone. “So this haircut,” they said, changing the subject. Cassidy laughed, even as she shivered at the stroke of their fingers.

“When Coral takes you for a makeover, she really takes you for a makeover.”

“Coral really has ruined my whole life,” Lane reflected, as they slipped down her body to worship her all over again.

Chapter Twenty-Five

That morning, Savannah awoke feeling like herself again. Emmeline had been up and down in the night, since that’s what eight-week-old babies did, but rather than alone and desperate like she’d been with Tucker, Brynn was still there to share it with her. Her wife, just as tired as she was, would kiss her cheek when they both jolted alert to the cry from the crib, then press her back down to the pillow, getting up to soothe their daughter, change her diaper, bringing her in for Savannah to feed then gently return her to sleep.

Somehow, despite the exhaustion, the intense cold fear that had gripped her by the throat was subsiding. She could do this. They could both do this. It would be a tricky year having an infant again, but she could finally, truly remember that it was just a year of what would be their whole lives together. She could see the love in Brynn’s eyes as she gazed steadily at Savannah, and at Emmeline, the tiny new life they’d conceived of together.

Now she watched as her wife slept beside her, her long dark hair scooped up in the messy knot shared by mothers everywhere, her shoulders sun-kissed beneath her tank top, and a deep peace flooded her body. She knew she’d finally chosen well, the person she’d always want by her side.

A small squawk emanated from the crib and Brynn stirred. This time, Savannah dropped a kiss on the warm nape of her neck.

“I’ve got it,” she murmured. She slipped out of bed and scooped her daughter from the cot. Emmeline fussed and Savannah crossed the room to sit in the window seat, pulling the baby to her breast, quietening her cries. She looked down at her daughter, the perfect curve of her cheek, the soft peach fuzz of her hair, the tiny shell of her ear. “Hi baby,” she whispered, her heart cracking open with love.

She tugged back the curtain, just enough to gaze out at the peaceful green of the world outside, the gentle purple gold of the sky as the sun rose. She glimpsed a figure sneaking across the lawn, her sister with wild mussed hair and in what were unmistakably Lane’s clothes, darting into the house at dawn. She shook her head and found herself smiling.

By the time she made her way to Sunday breakfast, Lane was sitting at the table in the early morning sun, sipping on a coffee. Their shoulders went stiff when they saw her.