Page 48 of The Fall

Lusa’s head slammed against the wall with the force of Kerr’s lips careening into hers. Kerr fell back onto her heels, but quickly returned her tiptoes to pepper Lusa with kisses again.

“Sorry,” she stammered between kisses. “I should have asked first.”

“But you’re still…”

Kerr leapt into her arms, forcing Lusa to hold her. “Shut up.”

Lusa stumbled as far as she could go, slamming Kerr’s back flat against the wall. Kerr took the opportunity to wrap her legs around Lusa’s waist.

Lusa understood that the recent life-or-death situation, combined with the forced proximity of the closet and a little shared trauma resulted in relaxing her grip on her self-control. Her reservations about whether they should, whether they hated each other or whether she would ever find someone who could handle her fell away.

And Lusa without reservations was both a glorious and terrifying thing to behold. It was also something for which Kerr was entirely unprepared.

Kerr may have kissed her first, but Lusa kissed back like it was a challenge. Not a dance or playful negotiation. Even invasion didn’t fit. Ownership did. Lusa took her mouth like she owned it. No invite, no option to decline, no opposition.

Lusa fumbled with clasps and buckles on unfamiliar clothing. Kerr, pinned and hoisted off the ground, was in no position to help.

“Hold this,” Lusa ordered, though Kerr felt, more than heard the words. Something thrust into her palm.

Lusa unclipped her knife belt. It slid across fabric and landed with a dull thud against the dusty floor.

“Thanks.” Her lips motioned again and she retrieved the object Kerr held, but couldn’t see.

Lusa drew it between them and Kerr’s shirt fell away.

“What the fuck?”

“Is there a problem?” The primal energy in her eyes told Kerr in no uncertain terms that there had better not be. Also, the knife at her throat. And that this was about to be the hottest thing she would ever experience.

Warning after warning. Chance after chance to turn away and Kerr had persisted and now, she would reap what she had sown. She could protest that, had she but known, she would have turned back. But Lusa had played this game many times before. Girls would still dive, headfirst to drown deliciously.

“Now you,” Kerr panted through bruised lips.

That was new. Usually, they let Lusa take what she wanted and kept their mouths shut. Lusa thrust her hips against Kerr, pinning her to the wall, igniting a soft gasp. Bracing her there, she leaned back, peeling her top over her head.

Even in the dark, she could see Kerr gawking at her the way her muscles twisted and popped beneath her skin as she moved. She was used to being admired, which is why she usually covered up, even if it stoked her ego a bit.

Kerr ran ceramic fingers across her waist with reverence, but couldn’t resist travelling farther. Fingertips danced across muscle and bone, and then, the impossible softness of her breast. Against her fingertips, the back of her hand, her forearm until she cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in to kiss her again. This time, Kerr was more prepared for Lusa’s violence.

And Lusa took greedily.

Kerr writhed, hips arching, legs clamped tightly around her. Lusa obliged, slipping long, deft fingers beneath her waistband. She was already a mess and Lusa determined to make it so much worse.

Two fingertips, just inside with her clit nestled between her knuckles – the way Lusa liked it. Kerr’s eyebrows tented along with full throated approval at the initial promise of relief.

“More.”

Lusa’s brain froze. More what? She was used to being used as a substitute for a man. The girls at the Lake would close their eyes and pretend while Lusa got them off. But Kerr wanted more. Kerr wanted her.

Kerr grabbed her wrist and angled her hips, forcing Lusa further inside. Lusa felt immensely grateful she didn’t have to ask.

“Now slow. Long,” Kerr panted.

Lusa wasn’t used to being given instructions either. For the first time, her appetites hadn’t been considered poor substitutions. They’d been received and met. She wondered; what would happen if she let herself truly go? But those were dangerous thoughts.

Lusa angled and dragged her fingers as slowly as she could stand. It reminded her of when Callie let her pet Minuschok under her chin, the great rumbling from the oversized cat betraying the danger hiding beneath a moment of peace. For once, Lusa felt as though she might have roused something bigger than she knew.

Taking her by surprise, Kerr’s ceramic fingers wrapped around her neck while the nails of her other hand grasped her forearm.