Page 102 of Holding Hope

I joined in on her laughter before pressing forward on my toes to kiss her again. All my life, I felt as if I was only tolerable, like my presence was only put up with because they felt obligated to acknowledge me.

Being first choice in someone’s life felt like such a far fetched idea that I had almost given up on wishing for it.

But I didn’t have to compete with Clarke. Of course, her family would always be the most important thing to her; but after them, it was me.

I was next.

Butterflies flurried in my stomach as Clarke’s kisses traveled down my throat and over the curvature of my collarbone. Was she really going to kiss her way down my body?

Her hands tightened and tugged at me as she slowly lowered herself back to her kneeling position, indeed kissing her way down as she did so.

Pulling one leg over her shoulder, Clarke began kissing her way up my thigh as the other hand worked on pulling my panties down.

Wetting her lips with her tongue, Clarke placed a hand over my cervix and I sucked in a breath when her hand made contact with my skin.

She had slim but sturdy hands, rough from playing both the guitar and working on her father’s land. She always kept her nails short and regularly her fingers were decorated with gold and aquitaine rings.

With her thumb, she ran her thumb over my clit, causing a sharp gasp to escape my throat and I rolled my head back against the wall. Clarke’s motions were swift and precise; soon, the soft stroking turned into deep pumps as she slid her fingers into me.

I moaned, instinctively running my hands through her hair. She bit into my soft flesh and added another finger, erupting a soft cry from my lips.

There wasn’t enough time to catch the sly smile that crossed her face because at the same time, she pulled my other leg over her other shoulder.

Arching my back to keep myself steady atop her shoulders, I panted as Clarke’s tongue ran up and down the length of my pussy.

She kept two fingers inside me as she pulled and sucked. She ate as if she had been starving for months, each pump and drag of her teeth more famished than the one before.

I could feel my core tightening the longer Clarke kept her steady pace and I knew it wouldn’t be long before pool of arousal overflowed.

“Clarke,” I gasped out as her teeth grazed over the thousands of nerves in my pulsing clit. My fingers clawed at the wall and my back arched, pushing my lower half into the other girl’s face.

Clarke chuckled and ran her tongue up my walls, keeping her eyes locked on my face. My mouth fell open as I forced my breathing to remain steady despite all of me wanting to lean back and release.

She cupped my ass with her hands, holding me steady as I squirmed in her palms. “I know you can be louder than that, baby,” she murmured, her voice low and husky.

With an arm to steady me, she gently lowered us onto the floor; the cold wood was shocking against my skin and I cried out at the sudden contact.

“That’s more like it,” Clarke laughed.

Avalon looked beautiful sprawled beneath me. Naked. Flawless. Mine.

We hadn’t bothered turning off the lights when we had entered the Big Barn, hands hungrily clawing at each other, and for the first time I was seeing her almost entirely naked in the light.

When we had first succumbed to our shared desires days ago, Avalon had been careful to keep my bedside lamp off, leaving us in just the natural light of the September moon.

Had she been ashamed of her scars? Worried that I might see them and think less of her? Scared that I might judge?

She had never looked more perfect; her scars were evidence that she had tried. She had tried to make her pain noticeable, screaming for someone to look at her and stay. To care.

I remembered that look on her face from that first night after she had told me about her assault and I had said that I cared. How long had she gone without hearing those words?

I didn’t want to think about the nights she had spent alone, crying in the bathroom and bleeding on the floor but an image flashed across my mind nonetheless.

Did she have matching ones on her wrists? Had she been scared she would bleed to death and only then would her parents decide to care?

Had that been the plan all along? To die just to be seen?

Running my hand up her torso, I laid flat on my belly and pulled her legs back towards my face. Avalon propped up a leg and arched her back as I lapped up and down her walls, moaning my name.