Page 64 of Tell Me What you Think

The first moan out of Olga tears through her entire body like a wave of heat, the second leaves her unable to breathe, and the third makes Marina want to touch herself to take the edge off, but her hand stays still at her sex because she can't do two things at once right now, and between touching herself and watching Olga come apart for the first time, she chooses the latter.

"Holy shit," she whispers as Olga lets out one last soft cry and falls forward.

Marina wraps her arms around her, kissing her neck and shoulder while Olga trembles against her.

"Watching you was the most erotic thing I've ever experienced, I swear to God," Marina confesses.

Olga opens her eyes and smiles against her shoulder, and then her lips don't leave Marina's skin—she starts leaving kisses all along her collarbone, then moves up her neck, follows the line of her jaw, and comes back down to find her breasts. She lingers over each one, drawing one soft sigh after another from her boss, who has leaned back with her spine arched toward her to offer up her body, and Olga keeps moving downward. She slides off the couch, kneels on the floor, and presses her lips to her stomach and belly while Marina slowly comes undone.

"What are you doing?" Marina asks when Olga pauses, but when she sees her with her gaze fixed between her legs and feels the brush of her finger at her entrance, the trembling hits her again and for a moment she nearly closes her legs.

"No." Olga puts a hand on her knee and looks up at her.

Marina is flushed, her brow furrowed, her eyes carrying the desperate look of someone who needs to be touched, and Olga doesn't like to make anyone wait—so she leans in a little more, parts her with her fingers, and draws her tongue flat from her entrance to her clit.

"Oh God, Olga," Marina breathes, and glances down for a second to find her lover looking up at her from below, mouth pressed against her and a flash of fire in her eyes.

Marina starts to burn. She's never been this wet, and the tingling starts in her belly and spreads down between her thighs with every stroke of Olga's tongue. It usually takes a long time for her to reach her first orgasm—she's a woman who needs patience and a slow buildup before she gets there—but none of that is happening with Olga. It's exactly the opposite. Marina is tensing every muscle in her body because she doesn't want to come so fast, she needs to keep feeling Olga's mouth, the long strokes of her tongue, the way she sucks against her clit and her lips, but she can't hold on any longer, and just as she's about to pull away and give herself a few seconds, Olga looks up at her again from below and the orgasm hits her without warning, making her bury her hand in her lover's hair and grind against her mouth as she shakes, completely out of control, crying out like it's the first orgasm she's ever had.

"Good lord, sweetheart, that was…" Marina gasps as Olga looks up at her with a playful smile.

"I'm just getting started."

Chapter 25

Olga walks down the hall like she's floating on a cloud, feeling like she could levitate, like her feet aren't touching the ground, even though she can hear her own footsteps perfectly. It's Thursday of the last week of January and, though almost seven days have passed since the dinner, she still can't wipe the grin off her face.

Marina stayed over Friday night after they moved to the bedroom to finish what they'd started on the couch, and Olga could honestly say they barely left it until Sunday, when Marina announced with a laugh that she had to head back to her place.

"I need to take a shower without anyone interrupting me, lay out my clothes for tomorrow, and go over a couple of things for the nine o'clock meeting."

Olga's lips were pressed to her neck when she said it, and Marina's laugh broke into a gasp when Olga slid a hand between her legs. She doesn't remember ever having a sex marathon like that one—probably because she never has—but spending the weekend with Marina between the sheets, interrupted only by sleep or hunger, is without a doubt the best thing that's ever happened to her.

They haven't made plans since then. They're almost into the final phase of the project and Marina's been staying late every day.

"Thank God men are completely oblivious and can't figure out that permanent happy face of yours comes from getting laid so well," Silvia says when Olga reaches her at the coffee machine.

Any other time she'd be scandalized and tell her friend not to be so vulgar, but she can't pull it off; that dopey smile is still there and Silvia's right—Marina left her very satisfied, took her in so many ways and with such care that she was sore Monday and Tuesday. The best kind of sore she'd ever felt.

She'd met up with Silvia Tuesday afternoon and spent almost an hour talking nonstop, telling her the date with Marina had gone better than well, all while suffering the embarrassment of watching her friend clap excitedly and shout hallelujahs at the ceiling.

"So, are you two dating?" Silvia asked once she'd calmed down.

"Um, I don't know. I don't think so."

"What's wrong with you? Sleeping with Marina killed your brain cells—how can you not know?" she asked, incredulous.

Olga let out a nervous little laugh before answering.

"Let's just say we didn't do a lot of talking over the weekend."

Silvia's eyes went wide.

"She stayed the whole weekend at your place? God, lesbians really are as intense as they say."

Olga burst out laughing.

"I guess so."