Superior

XIV.

Gwen had settled beside her, propped up on her elbow. One hand absentmindedly trailed along Mal's skin and the cups of her bra, and warmth was already rebuilding in her stomach at the sensation. Rather than responding to her growing libedo, she chose to enjoy the moment. It wasn't every day that she was able to lay next to an attractive woman.

She scooched closer, humming as her head lulled to the side to get a better look. Viridian eyes were scanning every inch of her, mapping every freckle and blemish, and Mallory blazed under the consideration. Ted looked at her similarly, during late night conversations in bed and whenever she talked about something she was fascinated about. She felt like art hung in a museum, observed and studied. It felt too real, and that pulled her away from enjoying and spurred her to acting.

Mallory turned on her side and cupped the blonde's cheek, letting her thumb swipe over soft lips before slipping down. Her fingers traced over tendons and collarbones and down to the swells of breasts. She squeezed the tender flesh gingerly, Gwen's pebbled nipple firm against her palm, and watched hooded eyes shut. A heavy sigh was her reward, and that emboldened the brunette to pinch pert areolas.

Gwen hissed, eyes snapping open. "Gentle," she warned through clenched teeth.

As if she had touched fire, Mallory shot her hand back, now remorseful and uncertain. "I'm sorry," and she moved to get out of bed, certain that her mentor wouldn't want to go any further now that she had already proved her incompetence.

Her intentions weren't to hurt the woman—no, Mallory wanted nothing but good things for Gwen. She wanted the woman to be happy and content: to have abundantly. The blonde deserved unending pleasure in every form and love in each of the seven Greek words.

She wasn't able to turn around before her wrist was grabbed and returned to supple flesh. Azure eyes lifted to meet green, pleading for mercy.

"I didn't ask you to stop," the older woman softened, her voice a whisper, and Mallory sighed in relief. "My nipples are sensitive. I need you to be gentle."

"Like this?" She let the pad of her thumb circle pink skin.

Gwen hummed, her lips curling, and the brunette could've sworn her heart swelled. "Good girl," she encouraged, her head falling back.

Mirroring what she knew from Ted, Mallory dipped her head, close enough to soft skin that she could smell her mentor. Ginger and coriander and a subtle woodsy aroma—whatever the woman wore, or if it was the way her skin smelled naturally, Mallory was intoxicated. Her bold tongue swiped at a hard nipple before wrapping her lips around it, surprised at the texture but not deterred.

When a hand tangled in her hair, Mal knew she was doing something right. Assured, she laid a trail of kisses to the other side, flicking her tongue against the neglected nipple before continuing down, ignoring the soft groan from her partner. She paid careful attention to milky lines along the pane of Gwen's stomach, her lips lingering in subtle reverence.

"Keep going," the blonde urged, panting. "You're doing so good."

The grip in her hair tightened, and despite Mallory's apprehension, she followed directions.  A heady scent met her as soon as she reached the apex of full thighs. The fact that she felt her own arousal grow at the scent wasn't lost on her, but Mallory couldn't focus on that. So she cupped trimmed curls, surprised by how dark they were compared to Gwen's hair color, and by how damp.

Curious, the brunette spread both folds and took a cautious lick. It wasn't what she expected, but honestly, she wasn't sure what to expect. Gwen gasped above her, so Mal repeated it, flicking her tongue against sensitive flesh. She hummed as her head was guided closer, and smirked at the feeling of clenching thighs. Pride swelled in her chest and kept her going.