I was brought up in Croydon.
Reed’s not even sure what it means when she thinks about it later, only that the people she knows — the people she grew up with — don’t do what she was going to do. What she wanted to do, if she’s honest.
It’s not at all the woman thing, although that was certainly a surprise — perhaps less so when she spends a few seconds just thinking about Stella, because she’s not sure there’s a person on earth capable of resisting the full force of Stella’s attention. It is, she thinks, the haste with which they moved from bar to elevator, the certainty that it would be a one night thing. Those were the things that made her stop, made her take a step back and reconsider.
Only now, less than 24 hours later, they don’t seem like problems at all.
She follows Stella from the lobby of her hotel, catches her just by the elevators — the same spot she’d abandoned her the previous day.
“Can we try last night again?” She says, pleased with the steadiness of her voice, and the way, when she reaches out to place fingertips against Stella’s upper arm, Stella turns into her touch.
Stella’s mouth quirks into a smile as she turns, meeting Reed’s gaze and staring at her intently. Reed thinks she stops breathing for a second when Stella nods, murmurs, “We can,” and slides her fingers over Reed’s, linking them together. There’s definitely no disguising the sudden flush to her skin as Stella looks her over. Reed’s eyes drop briefly to Stella’s lips, which part enticingly, and Reed thinks she might be about to speak again, but before anything further can be said, the elevator sounds its arrival, and Reed follows Stella inside.
She is aware, dimly, that there are usually cameras inside of elevators. A small voice of caution sounds in the back of her mind — the small space that’s reserved for processing thoughts not concerned with the firm grip of Stella’s fingers pressing over her hips, or the smooth coolness of the wall against her back as Stella guides her against it. There are cameras inside of elevators, but Reed doesn’t care, because Stella’s eyes dart once over her face, like she’s looking for any hesitation, any hint of Reed not wanting this — and there is none, not this time — and then she’s kissing Reed, and even that small space in the back of Reed’s mind becomes full of Stella.
If the kiss they’d shared the evening before sparked something inside of Reed, this one sets her ablaze. Reed’s mouth opens instinctively and Stella’s tongue licks inside. It’s hot, dirty in a way that makes Reed groan into Stella’s mouth, and Stella’s fingers pressing against her — one hand at her hip, the other now splayed against her jaw and neck — burn like a brand against her skin.
Too soon, they arrive at Stella’s floor, and as the doors to the elevator slide open, Stella steps back, looking Reed over once with a hunger that makes her ache. After Stella steps through the doors, it takes a second for Reed to gather herself before she can follow on shaky legs to a door a short way down the hall.
Inside Stella’s room, Reed finds herself immediately backed against the door. Stella kisses her again as fingers work insistently at the buttons on her shirt, freeing it from the waistband of her trousers, then almost roughly pushing it from her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She loses her bra while pressed against the dressing table a few minutes later; grips the edge of it desperately as Stella’s mouth kisses over her chest, tongue flattens over her hardening nipples with a purpose that makes Reed’s knees weak. And God, but Stella is inordinately good at this. Not that there was ever any doubt in Reed’s mind that she would be.
She pulls at Stella’s shirt, trying to even out their level of nakedness, and because she wants to see Stella too, almost desperately, but Stella’s sinking to her knees before Reed can do more than pull it from the waistband of her skirt. Stella’s eyes find Reed’s once more as her fingers pop open the buttons of her trousers and lowers them down to the floor.
“Tell me you want this,” Stella says, holding Reed’s gaze intently.
Reed’s fingers grip tighter to the edge of the dressing table, her arousal spiking sharp and insistent as Stella kisses against the inside of her knee, then higher, and again, higher still. She’s never wanted anything more. “I do.”
Stella’s breath washes hot over Reed’s inner thigh, and her lips teasingly brush over Reed’s skin when she replies, “Good.”
Reed shivers, then moans softly as Stella’s tongue traces the edge of her underwear before slipping them downwards to pool with her trousers on the floor. She’s still got her shoes on, but Stella helps her kick them off, and when they go, her clothes go with them, pushed somewhere across the floor.
She reaches out then, urging Stella upwards and into another kiss. Stella presses against her, the silken fabric of her shirt sliding softly over her upper body, and Reed’s reminded that Stella is still fully clothed.
“Let me take this off,” she murmurs into their kiss, tugging once again at Stella’s shirt.
Stella gives her assent and they work the buttons together, slipping it and then her bra off, letting them drop to join the growing trail of clothes across the floor, with her skirt and underwear quickly following.
Reed urges them into movement then, walking Stella backwards the few steps to the bed. She can’t seem to keep her hands from moving over Stella’s body — wants to touch her everywhere all at once. She finds Stella’s breasts, covering them with her palms, and sweeping thumbs over hardening nipples. Stella voices her pleasure quietly — murmurs and sighs that pulse through Reed’s body, settling between her thighs in a growing ache that leaves her breathless and wanting.
Stella’s fingers slide over her lower back, catch the sensitive spot at the base of her spine and Reed shudders, almost whimpers against Stella’s lips. It’s too much, and Reed is almost glad when Stella spins them around, pushing her down to sit on the edge of the mattress. Stella follows after her, straddling Reed’s thighs, and leaning in to kiss her once more.
For a second, with Stella’s weight on top of her, Stella’s lips against her own, Reed remembers she has no idea what she’s doing. That she’s never done this before, never even kissed another woman before the night before. But Stella knows what she wants, and Reed doesn’t have time to be scared — doesn’t even have time for second thoughts, because there’s a hand reaching for her own and together they slip over Stella’s thigh, then press upwards, sliding easily through the slick heat of Stella’s arousal. It feels amazing, and Reed throbs between her own thighs, groaning and leaning forward to press small kisses against Stella’s neck.
Her free hand goes to Stella’s back to steady her in Reed’s lap, while Stella reaches out her own hand to grip Reed’s shoulder. In this position, her fingers slip easily inside, and then it’s all Reed can do to meet each rise and fall of Stella’s body with her own.
She watches eagerly as Stella seeks out her own pleasure, and when she thinks to curl her fingers on a thrust, is pleased with the sound Stella makes in response, the way her eyes — just briefly — flutter closed.
She curls them again, then again, and Stella’s quiet sounds of pleasure grow in volume.
“You’re amazing,” she says, presses the words into Stella’s skin between kisses. Stella reaches out, tilts Reed’s chin upwards with the firm grip of long-fingered hands, and kisses her again.
Seconds later, the fingers at her chin disappear. Reed feels them again, near her own, and knows Stella’s touching herself. She rests her forehead against Stella’s, looks down their bodies and watches Stella’s fingers slide over her own clit. It’s too much, and she pulls Stella back into a kiss that’s as unrefined as it is arousing. They kiss until Stella can’t anymore. Until Stella’s gasping against her mouth, the words Oh fuck, and Reed’s name falling into the air between them in those last frantic fews seconds.
Stella comes with Reed’s name on her lips, clenching around her fingers and trembling on top of her. Reed doesn’t know how she could have ever thought this was a bad idea.
“Come here,” Stella says from where she’s now sitting, propped against two pillows and half on her side.
She’s still flushed from her orgasm, and Reed takes in the sight of her appreciatively before moving over her and fitting their bodies together. She’s far past the point of foreplay, and moans in relief when Stella slides a thigh between her legs. She rocks down, quickly painting Stella’s thigh with evidence of her arousal.
She murmurs Stella’s name, a plea, and Stella gazes thoughtfully at her for a second before saying, “Tell me what you want.”
Reed’s mind immediately flickers back to earlier, to Stella on her knees, tongue tracing the edge of her underwear, to how she thought she might faint before Stella had even really touched her. “Your mouth,” she says. “Please.”
It’s not that she’s never been on the receiving end of oral sex before. It’s simply that Stella seems to approach this with the same single-minded focus she approaches everything else she does. Her tongue works determinedly through Reed’s arousal, and Reed arches upwards, urges Stella on with fingers in her hair, whimpers she can’t even begin to contain.
When she comes — far too quickly — it’s better than it’s been in as long as she can remember.
She’s still coming down, body jerking gently every now and again, when Stella presses a final kiss to her inner thigh and slides gracefully up the bed.
“I will admit,” Stella says then, “I‘ve always wondered how another woman would taste.”
And with that Reed laughs, quietly and still a little breathless from her orgasm. She has to, because of course Stella would excel on her first try at going down on another woman. Of course she would.
“Did that satisfy your curiosity,” she says eventually.
“Perhaps,” Stella replies, and then smiles slightly. “Perhaps there is still evidence to be gathered.”