“Get up here,” Delilah said, pulling Claire up toward the countertop. Claire jumped while Delilah lifted, and immediately parted her knees as soon as her ass hit quartz. Delilah slid her hands up Claire’s jean-clad thighs, thumbs dipping into the creases where her hip joined her legs as their mouths met again. Delilah’s hands moved up to Claire’s waist and under her shirt, skating across her ribs and then over her bra.
Claire leaned back just enough to start unbuttoning her blouse, but Delilah stopped her.
“Let me,” she said.
Claire smiled and rested her palms against the cool counter. Delilah kept her eyes on Claire’s as her fingers popped one button and then the next, revealing the black lace bra underneath. Claire felt a rush of gratitude that most of her bras were pretty, bordering on sexy. Her underwear was a different story, but she’d worry about that later. Because right now, Delilah was spreading her shirt wide open and, as Claire sat a little bit above her now, the other woman was in the perfect position to press her mouth to Claire’s sternum, which she did, flicking out her tongue for a little taste. At the same time, her hands came up, cupping Claire’s breasts and sweeping her thumbs over her already hardened nipples.
Claire moaned and tipped her head back. She clamped her mouth shut, trying to rein it in, but she’d always been noisy in bed, and she had a feeling Delilah was going to pull out every scream that had been locked in her chest since her last non-self-induced orgasm.
“God, your tits are perfect,” Delilah said, pulling down a bra cup and sucking a nipple into her hot mouth.
“Oh god,” Claire said, tightening her legs around Delilah’s hips. She tried to focus. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You . . . you don’t think they’re too . . . ?”
Delilah paused, releasing Claire’s nipple, much to her chagrin, and looking up at her. “Too what?”
Claire swallowed, her lungs pumping like a marathon runner. “Just . . . you know, they’ve always been big, and I’ve had a kid, so they’re not what they used to be and—”
Delilah rolled her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, causing Claire to suck in a ragged breath. Then Delilah slid the straps down her arms, unhooked the back, and threw the bra deftly over her shoulder.
“Perfect,” she said again, massaging Claire’s tits as she kissed her, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Delilah’s fingers stayed busy on her nipples, squeezing and sweeping until Claire was literally panting into her mouth, her underwear so wet she could feel the dampness on her thighs. She pulled away, plucking at Delilah’s black T-shirt. She needed skin on skin, sweat and fingertips and tongues.
“Off,” she said. “Now.”
Delilah grinned up at her, then leaned back far enough for Claire to pull her shirt over her head.
Claire groaned out loud at the sheer yellow bralette covering Delilah’s smaller, but just as perfect, breasts. Her nipples showed through, dark pink peaks already hard and waiting for Claire’s mouth and hands. Her tattoos were gorgeous, art unfurling over her skin, including a delicate but heavily thorned rose on her sternum.
Claire reached out, touching the thorns, the petals, causing Delilah to shiver.
Suddenly, being shirtless wasn’t enough. As much fun as sex on the kitchen counter sounded, she wanted space to move, to feel Delilah’s thighs around hers, the curve of her ass, and how wet she was between her legs.
Oh god, they were actually doing this.
“You want to move to the bedroom?” Claire asked.
“Hell yes.”
Delilah backed up so Claire could hop down, but then yanked her flush against her hips, kissing her hard as she started moving them toward the hallway. Claire walked backward, her bare breasts rubbing against Delilah’s bra and creating a delicious friction.
“I don’t know where I’m going,” Delilah said against her mouth as she entered the hallway.
Claire laughed and turned them around so she could lead, but didn’t let go of Delilah. She couldn’t. If she did, she might wake up, or Delilah might change her mind, or hell, she might change her mind, and all she wanted right now was to not think about anything except getting this woman on her back.
Claire directed them into her room, then kept moving until Delilah’s legs hit the bed, causing her to fall back onto the mattress, laughing.
Which was exactly how Claire wanted her.
She climbed on top of her, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down her thighs. Delilah had on a pair of hot pink lace cheekies, because of course she did. Claire’s mouth literally watered as she ripped Delilah’s pants off her feet and then glided her hands over Delilah’s firm stomach, thumbs brushing over the top of her underwear. She started to pull those down too when Delilah sat up and flipped Claire onto her back.