Page 91 of She Haunts Me Still

“You’ve never been with a girl before,” she guesses, and Mallory nods. “Well, I’ve never had anyone lick up my blood.” A small grin plays on her shiny lips. “How do you like it so far? Kissing a girl, I mean.”

Mallory matches her smile as she leans back in. “It’s pretty perfect.”

Saskia hums her agreement. “We can go slow,” she says between kisses, curving a hand around Mallory’s waist. “We don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she whispers, fingers trailing down Saskia’s spine. Daring to dip lower, grazing the waistband of her jeans. “I want to do everything you want to do.”

Saskia grins again. The hand at Mallory’s waist slides a little higher. “In that case, you’re wearing way too many clothes.”

Mallory straightens, letting Saskia pull her shirt up and off. Saskia’s stare drops to the balconette cut of her bra.

“You can’t be real,” she says, her hand moving along Mallory’s rib cage, thumb grazing the dark green fabric.

Mallory leans into her touch, and Saskia’s palm curves all the way around her breast. They release parallel sighs at the contact, and when Saskia kisses her again, Mallory reaches for her, too.

Carefully avoiding Saskia’s injuries, Mallory fits her hand around the triangle of black fabric, daring to run her thumb over the hardening peak beneath it. Saskia exhales a soft groan into her mouth, so Mallory does it again, harder. Tracing the shape of her nipple through the thin mesh, rolling it tightly between her fingers.

“Fuck—that feels good,” Saskia says, a lilt of surprise to her voice.

Her words, like always, make Mallory feel brave, so she loosens Saskia’s clasp. The garment falls open, and Mallory returns her hand, filling her palm with Saskia’s bare skin.

Saskia wastes no time in finding the hooks at Mallory’s spine, letting her bra slip to the floor, too. “Fair is fair,” she says playfully, taking in the sight of Mallory in her skirt and torn thigh-high socks before leaning closer. Close enough for Saskia’s breasts to brush hers, making Mallory desperate to feel every inch of them together.

Saskia must be thinking the same, because she coaxes Mallory onto the rug, lowering her hips. Mallory arches up to meet her, seeking friction against Saskia’s textured denim. A breath shudders from her and Saskia grins into their kiss.

“You really want this, don’t you?” she murmurs, a hand dropping to the inside of Mallory’s thigh, thumbing the top of her sock.

A moan escapes her. Involuntary, messy. “I do,” Malloryconfesses, letting her own hands wander down Saskia’s spine, over the firm curve of her backside through her jeans, and finally around to the front. She pauses, shared breath gathering between their mouths as she hovers her fingers over the buttons. “Can I?” she asks, and Saskia nods. Mallory loosens the top one, creating just enough room for her hand.

Saskia’s cheeks flush as Mallory skims the top of her underwear. Soft. Cotton. Saskia’s own hand slips higher under Mallory’s skirt, nails grazing soft skin.

Wordlessly, Mallory glides her hand lower. Her breath thins, both at the feel of the damp fabric and at the sound Saskia releases.

“I was going to touch you first,” Saskia says, pouting.

Mallory slowly rotates her fingers. “Too late.”

“Too late?” There’s a challenge in Saskia’s voice. In a flash, her hand is a mirror of Mallory’s, fingers brushing identical damp lace between her legs. “I don’t think so. I’m gonna make you come before me.”

Her words, her touch, everything—it unleashes something unfamiliar and fierce inside Mallory, and she reaches up, flipping their positions once again.

Saskia’s hair blooms like a flower beneath her as Mallory tugs her jeans loose, leaving her black underwear on. Amusement flickers across Saskia’s face as Mallory leans over her, chestnut waves pooling around them like a curtain.

Mallory returns her hand to the space between Saskia’s thighs. “Do you remember,” she says, stroking gently, “when you told me you weren’t my business?”

Saskia’s lashes flutter. “Did I say that?”

“You did.” Mallory punctuates her words with a careful dance of her fingers, circling the fabric. “But you’re mybusiness now, aren’t you?” She dares to slip beneath the hem and releases a groan at the feel of her, soft and silky and so, so wet. “Thisis my business.”

Something electric slips into Saskia’s expression. Mallory lowers her forehead to Saskia’s as she drags two fingers through her delicate skin, dipping carefully inside. Learning her full shape. Strengthened by the feeling of being exactly where she should be, with a girl who just saw her at her worst and chose to stay.

“You’re mine,” Mallory adds in the softest whisper.

“I think we both know,” Saskia breathes, “I’ve been yours for a while now.”

With a low sound, Saskia closes her palm around the back of Mallory’s neck, crushing their mouths together. At the same time, her other hand moves between Mallory’s thighs to drag her underwear to the side—and slides two fingers deep inside.

“Oh god—”