Kyrie inhaled sharply and froze.
“Trust me,” Elle said in a warning tone. “Don’t forget to trust me.”
“I trust you,” she said again. “It’s just...”
“I know. I was a virgin once, too. I promise, I know.”
“I don’t want to stop.”
“We’re not going to stop until I’m done with you. Remember that?”
Kyrie smiled and laughed softly.
“I remember.”
“Do you need to stop for a minute or two?”
“Maybe...maybe just a minute. What are you... I mean—”
“I’m going to push your nightgown down to your hips, and then I’m going to touch and kiss your breasts. That’s what I’m going to do. Just that. For starters.”
“For starters.”
“Kyrie, you won’t be a virgin when you wake up tomorrow. Are you sure you’re ready for that sort of morning?”
She didn’t answer at first, not with words. But then she sat up straighter and brought her own hands to the tie of her nightgown. She loosened the fabric and, with a tiny shake of her shoulders, let the gown fall down her arms, baring her body to her waist.
Elle stopped breathing for two or three tense seconds. Kyrie had beautiful breasts, small and high and with the pinkest, most pert nipples. There was nothing voluptuous about the girl. She had a thin petite frame, almost boyish, but the breasts were flawless. Elle cupped one in her hand. Kyrie breathed in at the contact but didn’t say a word, didn’t protest. Not even when Elle massaged her areola with her thumb, making a slow circle until her nipple tightened and grew hard.
She raised her other hand and pinched both of Kyrie’s nipples. She didn’t pinch hard, not enough to hurt her, but hard enough a little gasp escaped Kyrie’s parted lips.
“How does this feel?” Elle asked as she rolled Kyrie’s nipples in her fingers, massaged and teased them.
“Amazing,” Kyrie said. “I didn’t know it could feel this good when someone else touched me.”
“I want to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. Pain and pleasure.”
“How will you hurt me?”
Elle brushed the pad of her thumbs over Kyrie’s nipples. That was something that never failed to make Elle aroused. Søren would do it until she was cursing the day he was born for getting her so aroused and then making her wait for penetration.
But Søren was her past now. Kyrie was her present. And like a present, Elle wanted to open her.
“I want to open your vagina up. It’ll probably hurt if you’ve never had anything bigger than a tampon or a finger in you before.”
“I haven’t.”
“I’m glad. I want to be the one who opens you up.”
“I want it, too. I want to feel you inside me, Elle. Please?”
“Soon. Lie back for me now.”
Carefully, Kyrie rolled down and rested her head on Elle’s pillow. Her hair surrounded her shoulders like a veil. What a waste of God’s beauty to cover this girl’s hair with anything. But Elle was glad then that Kyrie covered her hair with a veil. Now she and she alone got to see Kyrie like this—unveiled in every way.
Elle bent over Kyrie’s chest and kissed her right nipple.
“Oh, God.”
Elle smiled.
‘That’s how I feel about it, too. Now don’t talk,” Elle ordered. “Enjoy it.”
Like a good girl, Kyrie said nothing. Elle focused all her attention now on Kyrie’s breasts and nipples. She licked them, both breasts. Easy to do with breasts so petite and perfect. And then she took the right nipple into her mouth and sucked it and she used her fingers to pull and tug on her left nipple. Beneath her mouth, Kyrie’s breasts heaved with her ragged breathing.
“I can feel it...” Kyrie said in a low strained voice. “In my stomach.”
“Where else?” Elle asked, sucking her left nipple now.
“In my hips and back.”
“Where else?”
“Inside me,” Kyrie said.
“Are you getting wet? Can you tell?” She’d ordered Kyrie not to talk, but now she had to know everything she was feeling.
“I am. I’m sure of it. God, it feels so good.”
Elle took her time with Kyrie’s breasts. No rush. No hurry. She wasn’t a man rushing through the process, counting every second until he’d got his girl ready enough he could stick his cock in her with a clear conscience. No, Elle was a woman too and knew everything Kyrie was feeling and wanted to feel, everything she needed to feel. If Kyrie wanted her nipples kissed for half an hour, an hour, Elle would do it. She would do it with pleasure and with patience.
“Elle...” Kyrie breathed as Elle drew her nipple deeper into her mouth. “I want...”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know. I just...I want.”
Elle rose over Kyrie and kissed her again on the lips. A sheen of sweat covered Kyrie’s forehead and Elle pushed a lock of damp hair off her face.
“Me, too,” Elle whispered. “I want it, too.”
“Do you really like doing this? I know you’re not—”
“I’m a not a lesbian, no. I love having sex with men. But I also love having sex with you. And that’s what we’re doing now.”
“We are, aren’t we?”
“We are. I hope it’s as good for you as it is for me.”