Here’s the second part of the scene between Yvell and Micaea; the first part was posted yesterday.
You may wish to know that Thatchii are soulless creatures made of stone that are used basically as slave labor. Yvell likes to fuck them.
“I love you,” Yvell said, and kissed Micaea again. But this time it was more abbreviated; she wanted to taste other places on her companion’s body. Her mouth found Micaea’s neck and the bend of her shoulder, nibbling at the dark bronze flesh and making Micaea shiver. When her hand passed over Micaea’s breasts, she found her nipples already firm, and she scraped the heel of her palm over one of them before taking it into her mouth. She didn’t bite as hard as Micaea did; the bright edge of teeth was enough to make her companion reach up and take hold of the chaise. Yvell had learned that, for Micaea, it wasn’t easy to allow Yvell to take her time, and by keeping her hands out of the way she could keep from trying to move things along.
Which was good, because Yvell wanted to spend a lot of time on Micaea. Last night with the Thatchii had been amazing, but this — making love to Micaea — was what she lived for. She nibbled and mouthed at Micaea’s breasts, covering them with nips that made Micaea’s legs shake; she ran her hand along the smooth, flat plane of Micaea’s stomach and her equally-smooth pubis, avoiding the place between her companion’s thighs. She had plans, plans to make Micaea beg for her first orgasm and then beg for Yvell to stop. She’d done this before, and it had always made her want Micaea again when it was done.
As Micaea’s legs fell open, Yvell reached between them, under her companion, taking hold of her backside; Micaea pushed herself against Yvell’s forearm, the slick heat of her body bringing a flush to Yvell’s cheeks at the loveliness of it. She caught scent of Micaea’s arousal and had to physically force herself not to taste it, not yet; she let her mouth wander down, biting Micaea’s stomach just above her pubis. Micaea thrashed and groaned, enough that Yvell’s other hand came up and took hold of Micaea’s throat. Not hard; just firm enough for Micaea to take the message and try to calm herself.
Yvell planned to make that a challenge; she dragged her fingers along Micaea’s inner thigh until she could cup the place between, drawing a low moan from Micaea. “Please, my lady; please!”
Yvell fluttered one finger between Micaea’s thighs; her companion moaned again, higher this time, and tried for more contact. Yvell held Micaea’s throat a bit tighter. “Be a good girl,” she cooed, fluttering her finger again, “and I’ll let you have more.”
“I… I will, m… my lady.” The words came with great effort, it seemed, halting and stuttered, and Yvell graced Micaea with a smile. “I’ll… I’ll try.”
“Do that.” Yvell rewarded Micaea by sliding her fingertip slowly along her companion’s warmth before working it to the hilt inside her; Micaea rewarded Yvell by somehow forcing herself not to reach orgasm then and there. Yvell knew Micaea’s body, knew how close she already was — and how explosive the orgasm would be if Yvell drew it out longer still.
So she was careful; she didn’t curl her finger like she might do at other times, so to not touch the rough place inside Micaea. She simply slipped her finger in and out of Micaea as she nibbled the soft skin of her companion’s lower stomach, the hand around Micaea’s throat coming down to find her nipple and give it a sharp little twist.
Micaea arched, hips thrashing from side to side, and Yvell took her hand away. “My lady!” Micaea whimpered. “My lady, please!”
Yvell shook her head. “Soon, my love. Soon.”
Micaea propped herself up on one elbow and gave Yvell a dark look just this side of proper submission, but Yvell allowed it to pass. She was too eager to taste her companion. Micaea watched as Yvell moved to the end of the chaise, parting Micaea’s thighs and resting her hands on the silky skin of their insides. Micaea’s body was open to Yvell, the flesh between her thighs darker, her point of pleasure peeking out at the top. Yvell wanted to kiss that point, to run her tongue along it, but that would end things too quickly. Instead she lowered her head to Micaea’s body and allowed the barest tip of her tongue to slide along the wetness she found there.
A high-pitched whine came through Micaea’s clenched teeth, and that was all Yvell could take. She’d wanted to tease Micaea more, but that sound had done something primal to Yvell, and without warning Yvell buried her face against Micaea’s body, pushing her tongue upward and firm against Micaea’s point of pleasure. Micaea’s orgasm came in a rush of gasps and half-choked sobs, sobs that turned to moans when Yvell slipped two fingers inward and upward, curling them as she sucked at that tiny point; Micaea’s body went tight, her legs wrapping around Yvell’s head, and she howled.
Yvell didn’t stop. She licked, she sucked, she crooked her fingers both together and alternating. Micaea’s orgasms didn’t stop either, not until her voice started to go hoarse and her entire lower body was quaking uncontrollably. Only then did Yvell look up, her fingers still inside her companion: Micaea’s hands were still tightly clutching the top of the chaise, the muscles in her slender arms well-defined under her bronze skin. Yvell pushed upward once more; Micaea’s breath exploded out of her and she managed one more small orgasm. By the time it was done, Yvell was on the chaise with her companion, holding her in her arms, Micaea’s tear-streaked face against her breasts.
She kissed Micaea’s damp hair. “My love,” she whispered. “My sweet love.”
“My lady.” Micaea tried to say it in more than a hoarse whisper, but she had nothing left. “My lady, my love.” Her breath was hot against Yvell’s breast; her companion pressed a gentle kiss to her skin. “I love you.”
“I love you, my Micaea.” She found Micaea’s chin, tilted it up, and kissed her softly. “Rest now. I’ll be here when you wake.”
“Don’t want to rest.” But Micaea was already getting comfortable, one arm going around Yvell and the other under her head as a makeshift pillow. “Want to be with you.”
“Later,” Yvell promised. “Later.”
“No…” Micaea nuzzled Yvell’s breast. “No Thatchii?”
“Good.” The word was almost too soft to hear. “Don’t like them much anyway.”
Yvell smiled, kissed Micaea’s hair again, and then her companion was asleep. Truthfully, Yvell didn’t like Thatchii much either. Except for their phalluses, but that was a different story altogether.
Someday, she promised herself, she’d convince Micaea to try fucking one of them. Someday, but not today.