Radclyffe - Turn Back Time

"What?" Wynter asked almost desperately, struggling to make sense of Pearce's questions. "She sleeps soundly. She'll be fine."

Pearce covered Wynter's mouth in an urgent kiss, needing the taste of her to carry her until she could have more. Then she gently eased her down, keeping one arm around her waist. "Please, will you take me to your bed?"

Wynter stroked her cheek, wondering why she felt tears threatening.

She'd never felt anything as right as when she said, "Oh, yes. Yes, I will."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The upstairs hallway was dark. Wynter and Pearce moved quietly with just the night-light in Ronnie's room to guide them. Wynter led the way, holding Pearce's hand. Out of habit, she paused in the doorway to Ronnie's room and listened for her soft, regular breathing. After a second, she continued on, aware of Pearce just behind her, sensing the air around them scintillate with excitement. When she reached her bedroom, she pressed the dimmer switch and turned the light down until there was just enough illumination to maneuver by.

She tugged Pearce over the threshold and quietly closed the door.

"What if she gets up?" Pearce murmured.

Wynter pointed to the small receiver on her bedside table. "We'll hear her."

"Handy." Pearce pulled Wynter close and kissed her neck. She ran her hands rhythmically up and down Wynter's back, their bodies melding as they swayed together in the near dark. "Sure about this?"

"Yes." Wynter gripped Pearce's T-shirt and pulled it out of her jeans, then snaked her hands underneath. As she danced her fingers over Pearce's stomach, she confessed, "I haven't used the child monitor in over a year, but I hooked it up after I saw you this morning. Just in case I needed to close the door."

Pearce hissed in her breath at Wynter's caress. "Pretty sure of yourself."

Wynter laughed and skimmed the undersurface of Pearce's breasts with trembling fingers. "Just hopeful. God, can I touch you soon?"

"Oh man," Pearce groaned. "Anything you want."

"Oh," Wynter breathed out, "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah?" Pearce claimed Wynter's mouth again, walking her backward toward the bed while exploring the warm recesses with her tongue. Then, as quickly as she had claimed the kiss, she broke away.

At Wynter's muffled cry of protest, Pearce whispered, "No hurry, remember?" She thought back to her first time, and how the memory stayed with her always. But she'd been a teenager then, all raging hormones and desperate desire. Everything had been miraculous and mind blowing and she couldn't touch everywhere fast enough. She and her girlfriend had fumbled and groped and crashed into orgasm almost by accident. This would be different. This would be her gift, to Wynter and to herself. "Watch."

"Wha--" The word died on Wynter's tongue as Pearce gripped the bottom of her T-shirt and stripped it off along with everything beneath, baring her upper body. Her breasts glistened in the half-light, lifting and falling with her rapid breathing, nipples tight and beckoning. "Oh my God."

Pearce fingered the waistband of her jeans, watching Wynter's face, pacing herself until any hint of shyness or discomfort in Wynter's expression was eclipsed by desire. She unbuttoned her fly, one slow snick at a time. When Wynter stretched out a tentative hand toward her breasts, she shook her head. "Not yet. Not until we're both naked. And I'm going to undress you next, so it will be a while."

"Just looking at you is making me nuts." Wynter drew a ragged breath. "I'm going to fly apart."

"No," Pearce said tenderly. "You won't. Promise." She pushed her jeans down, kicked off her boots, and stepped free of the tangle.

If Wynter was like her, it would be easier to touch than to be touched, and she wanted this to be easy for her. For this time to be a wonderful memory. She reached for Wynter's hands and drew them to her breasts.

She shuddered, unprepared for her own response. At the first touch she closed her eyes and bit back a groan. When Wynter flicked her thumbs over her nipples, her knees nearly gave way. "Christ."

"You like that?" Wynter murmured thickly, entranced by the incredible softness, the unbelievable firmness, the enchantment of caressing her this way. She wanted to make her groan again. She wanted to make her scream; she wanted to do things for which she had no words. She captured both nipples and squeezed, laughing softly when Pearce jerked and grabbed her hands away. "You like it, don't you?"

"Too much," Pearce gasped. "Makes me want to come."

Wynter's eyes widened. "Could you?"

"Not usually, but you do...unexpected...things to me." Pearce held Wynter's hands away from her body, not daring to be touched again so soon. She'd felt the first twitches of orgasm shimmer down her thighs. "But you're getting way ahead of me. Let me undress you."

"Yes. Please."

Slowly, carefully, Pearce opened each button on Wynter's shirt.

When she parted the fabric a few inches and skimmed her fingertips just inside over the rise of Wynter's breasts, Wynter rested both hands on Pearce's forearms as if to steady herself. Pearce dipped her head and kissed between Wynter's breasts. "Your skin's so soft, so beautiful."

She fanned her fingers lower, just grazing the tips of Wynter's nipples, eliciting a quiet whimper. When she cradled the soft weight of each breast in her palms and closed her fingers gently, Wynter sagged against her, her forehead on Pearce's shoulder.

"I don't think I can go this slow," Wynter gasped.

"Yes, you can." Pearce kissed her forehead. "I need you slow.

Please."

Wordlessly, Wynter nodded, bracing herself with her hands on Pearce's shoulders. She wanted Pearce to have whatever she needed.

No matter what it took to bring her pleasure, she wanted to give it.

"When can I touch you?"

"Soon." Pearce knelt and opened Wynter's jeans. With her hands curled around the waistband, she pulled them down below Wynter's hips, exposing her smooth abdomen and the top of each thigh. Encircling Wynter's hips to support her weight, she kissed her stomach.

"Oh!" Wynter's thighs trembled, and she clamped both hands onto Pearce's shoulders. She gripped harder as her knees threatened to buckle. When Pearce kissed her lower, brushing her lips just above the delta between her thighs, she insinuated the fingers of one hand into Pearce's hair and stroked the back of her neck. When the barest hint of Pearce's breath blew over her hypersensitive flesh, she moved Pearce's face away.

Pearce looked up, a gentle question in her eyes. "Wynter?"

"I won't be able to stand it." Wynter caressed her cheek. "I'm afraid you'll make me come right away."

"It's all right?"

Wynter laughed shakily. "Oh God, yes. But not yet."

"Sorry." Pearce nestled her cheek against Wynter's stomach and closed her eyes, breathing Wynter's scent, waiting until her own restless need settled and she could start again.

"Not sorry," Wynter said thickly. "Never be sorry for wanting me." She tilted Pearce's face up to hers and waited until Pearce opened her eyes. "Finish undressing me. I want to lie down with you and feel you everywhere against me."

Tenderly, Pearce drew Wynter's jeans down her legs and helped her out of her sneakers and clothing. Then she stood, amazed at her own weak legs, and using just the tips of her fingers, skimmed off Wynter's blouse. When she'd finished, an inch of space separated their bodies.

She lowered her gaze, heart pounding. Looking at Wynter's body was like cresting a mountain and coming upon a vista that stretched until forever--incomprehensively beautiful, indescribably exquisite. Her vision blurred as a swell of desire rose so swiftly she lost her breath.

She pulled Wynter to her and held her tightly, moaning as Wynter's body met hers for the first time with no barrier between them. She ached and exalted at the pleasure.