The Writer's Heart

20

CONFESSIONS ALWAYS strengthened a bond. But Jessie felt so vulnerable, and not in a good way. She slipped away from bed, and headed into the bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she hated herself for being happy. But at the same time, she couldn't deny that it was a good thing.

Being in Marilyn's arms was one of the rightest things that she'd felt. She felt stripped of all insecurities, and feelings of loss. Marilyn's warmth gave her peace of mind. Jessie realized that the world still had good things to offer.

"You're beautiful even in the morning," Marilyn wrapped her arms around Jessie's torso, and kissed the side of her neck. It felt so right to start the morning off with her.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Jessie turned into Marilyn's arms, and kissed her lips. She was done with holding back. She was sick of being so down all the time. But that didn't mean she didn't grieve.

"Are you on the menu?" Marilyn asked, grinning.

Jessie ran her hand over Marilyn's stomach, and kissed her chest. Marilyn's head flung back, and she moaned, "I can be," Jessie whispered. Marilyn gasped, as Jessie's hands slipped under the waistband of her sweats, "you're not wearing any panties?" Jessie's hands moved over Marilyn's hip bone, and towards her butt. There was something more than lust in Jessie's eyes. She wanted Marilyn, not just sexually, but emotionally. She wanted her walls to disintegrate, her mind to want happiness, and her heart to accept it.

"Jess, you're..." Jessie trailed her lips further down Marilyn's chest, "fuck," her lips collided with Marilyn's cleavage. Jessie pulled Marilyn's t-shirt upwards. When Marilyn's breasts popped out, Jessie's knees tightened. God, I'll have to let her stay over more often.

"Are you always naked under your pajamas?" Jessie asked. Jessie clasped her lips around Marilyn's erect nipple and sucked. Her finger flicked over the fuzz of Marilyn's mound. And the moan that escaped both of their lips, made their bodies twitch.

"I usually don't wear pajamas."

That piqued Jessie's interest. It had been a while since either of them had sex, and there was no holding back once they got into it. Marilyn restrained another moan, but it was hard to. Her hands gripped onto Jessie's shoulders, hanging on for her life. Her knees were trembling, as Jessie's fingers delved further, slipping in between her lips.

"You're soaking wet," Jessie said. Jessie's eyes focused on Marilyn's, as she stroked the length of her. The arousal in her eyes could push Jessie over the edge without even being touched.

"That's not a surprise," Marilyn whispered, as her eyes rolled back. Jessie's fingers dipped into her, taking the slightest feel of her aching walls, "I'm surprised I'm not dripping."

Jessie grinned. Marilyn's reactions pleased her into complete satisfaction, "you're pretty close, Doctor Isles."

The sultry voice in which those words were said caused Marilyn to dig her nails into Jessie's arms. She was so turned on—so in need of Jessie to be inside of her, "why do you always have to be so sexy?" Marilyn asked.

Jessie shushed Marilyn by kissing her. She sucked on Marilyn's tongue, and she slid a finger in, testing the walls of Marilyn's treasure, "tell me what you want," Jessie insisted.

Marilyn's hips pressed into Jessie, wanting more pressure. She needed more, "Jess," Marilyn moaned when Jessie began to suck on her neck. That would surely leave a mark, "please," her voice was hoarse, begging softly. Her hands pulled on the straps of Jessie's tank top, slipping them off of her shoulders.

"Please what?"

Marilyn pulled Jessie closer, moving her hands over hardened nipples beneath a thin tank top, "fuck me, Miss Nightingale."