Above All, Honor

Chapter Sixteen

"Ah, god– I can't," Megan gasped hoarsely, "I'm sorry I just– can't."

The blonde raised her head, gazing up the long expanse of Megan's torso. "That's not what your body is saying." She rested her cheek against Megan's thigh, one hand softly stroking between the secret agent's legs. "Besides, I'm not done yet."

Megan gently insinuated her fingers into the hair at the back of her visitor's neck. She tugged softly. "Come up and lie beside me," she whispered.

Beyoncé slipped from between Megan's legs and moved up to recline against her body, resting her head on her shoulder. Beyoncé's hand lay lightly on Megan's belly.

Megan shifted slightly, brushing a kiss across Beyoncé's forehead. "Let me make love to you," she said softly. It was the first time she had ever suggested it.

"That's not what this is about. I don't need you to do that."

"I need to," Megan insisted. "After all this time, I want to give you something back."

Beyoncé nodded, hearing what her companion wasn't saying. She knew that Megan wanted more than to thank her. She wanted to say goodbye. Over the years, there had been many goodbyes. This was one that was going to be hard.

"Just hold me," Beyoncé requested. "That's all I need."

Megan was weary, too weary to protest. She cradled the other woman closer, closed her eyes, and tried to empty her mind. She tried not to think about her anger and confusion every time she imagined Normani having sex with yet another stranger. She tried to ignore what she knew very well was jealousy. She tried to ignore the simple fact that she wanted it to be her that Normani was caressing.

Beyoncé ran her fingers lightly over Megan's flushed skin, tracing the outline of her ribs and hip, stroking the soft curve of the underside of her breasts, smoothing the flat of her hand over the taut muscles of her stomach. Slowly, Megan relaxed under her touch.

Eventually, her thoughts were eclipsed by an awareness of her body's response to Beyoncé's attention. Her skin began to tingle, her leg muscles tightened, and her hips began to rock slightly as her clitoris once again swelled in anticipation. This time, her urgency was gone, and she allowed herself the luxury of simply accepting the pleasure. Her mind collapsed into a single point of sensation, centered within the pulsating pressure between her legs. She groaned, and lifted her pelvis higher, silently urging Beyoncé's hand lower.

Megan's breath escaped on a sigh as two fingers enclosed the shaft of her clit, milking it slowly and firmly from the base to the tip. She felt wetness spread along the inside of her thighs, and when one soft stroke brushed the warm moisture over the exposed tip of her engorged pearl, she moaned again.

"God, that makes me wanna cum," she murmured breathlessly.

Beyoncé smiled faintly, her fingers slipping inside, then back out and upward, a steady rhythm that matched Megan's unconscious movements. She sensed the building pressure, and felt the tender tissues beneath her fingertips thicken even more, swelling to the point of explosion.

Megan gripped the sheets convulsively in her left hand, her right arm holding Beyoncé tightly. She turned her face into the sweet comfort of the escort's hair, and allowed her body to surrender to the inevitable. As her stomach clenched and a hoarse cry was wrenched from her depths, Normani's face flickered across the inner surface of her eyelids.

...

Three hundred miles away, Normani stood in a small apartment on the fourth floor of a building in Greenwich Village. She casually studied the clothes hanging on a rack that had been pushed into the corner of a small bedroom, seeming to have forgotten the woman who had brought her there.