Delilah stayed with her until her body stilled, gentling her back down to earth, soft presses of her mouth to Claire’s sensitive skin. Finally, when Claire could see straight, she pulled Delilah up her body and kissed her, the taste of herself on the other woman’s tongue like striking a match low in her belly.
“Good?” Delilah asked.
Claire just laughed into her mouth.
“You were loud as hell, so I’ll take that as a yes,” Delilah said, and Claire froze.
“Oh. Shit, I’m sorry, I—”
But Delilah cut her off with a tug of her teeth on Claire’s earlobe. “Are you kidding me? That was the single fucking hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Really?” Claire could hardly believe it. Delilah had surely heard a lot of women coming underneath her in her time.
But Delilah just nodded, tongue flicking out to taste the sweat on Claire’s neck. Her hips pulsed, seeking and needy. Claire tugged at her curls again, pulling a low, rumbling moan from Delilah’s chest, which, okay, was maybe the single hottest fucking thing Claire had ever heard in her life. It made her feel feral, desperate, and she wanted to make Delilah come as hard as she had. She pawed at the other woman’s underwear, which was, ridiculously, still on her body. Delilah quickly caught on, angling away from Claire and yanking the lacy cotton off with very little grace before throwing it into a dark corner of the room.
“Good call,” Claire said, running her eyes over Delilah. The other woman was shaved, nothing but a perfect dark landing strip to guide the way. Claire gripped Delilah’s hips and nudged her legs apart, pulling her until she was sitting up and straddling Claire’s thighs, palms braced on Claire’s ribs. When the hot slide of her center met Claire’s mound, both women groaned.
“Best fucking decision I ever made,” Delilah said, her breath ragged.
Claire rolled her own hips, then circled them so her pelvic bone hit Delilah right where she needed it. Delilah gasped and threw her head back, all of her undulating for friction. Claire felt her own desire building up again, a coil tightening in her lower belly more and more each time Delilah released those lovely, breathy gasps. Claire couldn’t take her eyes off Delilah sliding over her body. She reached a hand between them, fingers playing in Delilah’s soaked heat.
“Oh god,” Delilah said to the ceiling. “Yeah.”
She lifted her hips just enough for Claire to slide first one, then two fingers inside her. She was so tight, so perfect, and the back of Claire’s hand pressed into her own clit.
Delilah leaned back and pumped her hips. “Fuck. Yes,” she said, before her body clenched tight. She tangled one hand in her own hair, pulling the curls down over her face as she cried out, causing her body to press into Claire’s hand so hard and perfect, Claire came too, their moans mingling with the smell of sweat and sex, their bodies arching and slowing, their breathing rough and ragged.
Delilah’s hand closed around Claire’s wrist between them, removing her hand and holding it to her chest before—dear god—she opened her mouth and licked Claire’s fingers clean. The feel of Delilah’s tongue, the way her eyes closed as if in bliss, almost had Claire ready to go again, but she was exhausted enough to simply enjoy the view, marveling at this woman in her bed. She pulled her hand free, wet fingertips lingering on Delilah’s lips before settling on the woman’s upper thigh. Delilah collapsed onto the mattress next to her, and they lay like that for a few minutes, legs still entangled, their lungs’ pulls for more oxygen the only sound in the quiet room.
Delilah lifted her head and met Claire’s eyes. “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is right,” Claire said. She curled her arms around Delilah’s waist, not wanting the moment to end, but then saw Delilah’s hair.
It. Was. Huge. Haloing around the other woman’s face, the curls were tangled and frizzy and wild, the very definition of sex hair.
And it was just about the cutest fucking thing Claire had ever seen.
She let out a long laugh, relieved and sated and just plain happy, cupped Delilah’s face—after she found it beneath all that hair—and kissed her hard.
Chapter Twenty
A BUZZING ON the nightstand woke Delilah. She lifted her head, the room unrecognizable for a split second before the entire night flooded back to her.
Claire.
She was at Claire’s.
In her bed.
With Claire wrapped around her like a pretzel, her face pressed to Delilah’s neck and breathing soft, sleepy breaths. She was totally zonked out, which wasn’t any wonder. By the time the two women had fallen asleep after midnight, exhausted and boneless, they’d both come two more times and Delilah had discovered that Claire had an extremely talented mouth.