Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sex with April is more, and like, better than Sterling ever could’ve imagined. Though, in all fairness, how could she have imagined anything close to this? Her own minimal experience—or any random article Blair stuffs in her stocking for Christmas—could never have begun to prepare her for the sheer frequency and consistent quality of the orgasms she’s reached over the past few hours.

Round one, of course, was sweet with just the right edge to keep it exciting. Nerves. Tentative first touches, first tastes. Taking turns—sort of. Making love? Definitely.

Round two happened promptly after the first one. Still getting used to the taste of herself on her own lips, she assumed innocent intentions when April arranged them into a cuddle, acting as big spoon. But there was nothing innocent about it as she gradually and methodically teased her into a tizzy before fucking her deeply, thoroughly—a delirious, post-orgasmic Sterling giggled and called it “sporking.” Sporking was good. Sporking meant being held close while coming undone. Sterling liked sporking.

Round three? After taking just a quick doze—it was entirely too comfortable not to—Sterling decided it was her turn to taste April. A short while of watching Sterling try and fail to twist her spent body into a suitable position for that, and April took things into her own hands—uh, legs. Lap? Whatever, she sat on her face, which Sterling was hesitant about—“Are you positive I won’t die?” She didn’t die. Not in a literal sense, anyway. Jury’s still out on whether she died earlier this morning and this whole thing has been, like, an elaborate afterlife hallucination.

But round three got her craving round four, shot her through with an energy that demanded more. Once April was recovering in her arms, Sterling pushed her back into the mattress, slotted their thighs together, and—after too much pressure, after go gentle, after a sharp breath and easy—found exactly what worked for them both. From there, friction took over. Nothing separating them, no cumbersome clothes, just bodies slick and moving, Sterling kissing and biting and sucking and licking at April’s chest, leaving secret reminders of overflowing passion, April gasping, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” dragging nails down Sterling’s shoulder blades as they got there, quaking, one’s leading to the other’s.

That’s the one that does Sterling in. Like chest-heaving, can’t-catch-her-breath, can’t-move-even-if-she-tried does her in. So yeah, she now knows exactly how possible (and exhausting) it is to have sex four times in one day.

Which is why she’s simply collapsed on top of April, nose buried in both her hair and the pillow, inhaling the new and exciting scent of their sex and sweat combined, along with the familiarity of her floral woody shampoo.

It’s bliss. It’s love. It’s April giggling into her neck at the same time she’s nuzzling. Carefree, sweet… nothing like the April that instead turned her nose up at her a week ago in a malfunctioning elevator.

She’s happy to bask in this, happy to slip off into another impromptu nap, embraced by her love and feeling so safe and warm and sleepy. Or, she would be, if April weren’t trying for… another? Wedged between them, between Sterling’s legs, a light touch, barely there, barely circling her—but even that’s too much.

All those rounds, and she’s just sensitive. Sterling loves the crap out of this girl, but doesn’t she need a minute to just not? Like, they’re literally still stuck to one another. Is Sterling even capable of getting wet right now, after losing all that moisture? There’s thirst. Hunger. Lightheadedness. A few reasons to declare a time out.

“Babe,” she mutters into hair more than pillow, hips twitching involuntarily at April’s every touch.

“Yeah?” Her beautiful-fantastic-amazing-talented girlfriend rasps, pressing teeth to her ear and a finger to her clit.

Breath hitched deep in her throat, she even pushes her hips to meet April’s rhythm. Wait. Where’s that specific pleasure she’s gotten to know the past several hours? It’s not registering in her brain. Oh, right. She should probably meet some other rhythm. The rhythm of her body’s needs.

“Babe, babe babe babe babe, I need a break.” She rolls off, still tucked into April’s side, a leg thrown over her. Those dang physiological needs.

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” April says with no malice, all humor, tugging Sterling closer and wrapping her in her arms. Warm lips press the sweat cooling on her forehead. One hand rubs her thigh, the other plays with a nipple. “No fun at all…”

“I’ll be more fun when,” Sterling swallows, “I-I’m nourished, a-a-and hyyydrated,” she pants, trying so hard to focus on the words in her brain and not the ache stirring between her legs again.

“Eat me instead,” April husks, that puff of breath at her ear sending a spark of want to contribute to the ache. If Sterling had like, even an iota of that kind of energy, she swears to God and Jesus and the apostle Paul (for funsies, and maybe out of spite) that she would throw her down and cash in on that meal plan.

“This might shock you, April,” Sterling says, tilting April’s chin to kiss those marvelously swollen lips, “but my stomach comes before my vagina, in this case.”

“In this case? Surely it’s an outlier.” She walks her fingers up Sterling’s thigh, but the legitimately embarrassing grumble that comes from Sterling’s stomach stops her in her tracks.

“An outlier that can’t be ignored, I guess,” Sterling sighs.

“Fiiiiine.” April shakes her off enough to sit up. Stretch her arms above her head. Whew, what an incredible position to admire. Curved in all the best places. Sterling’s absolute favorite shape in existence. All geometrical concepts put to shame.

The early evening sun filters through the gauzy pink curtains, emphasizing the points—the bite marks, the hickies splotched across her breasts, some lighter, some darker than others. Marathon sex—that is, lots of pulling and rolling around—has turned April’s hair into this wild mane of tangles and waves. When she twists her torso, the plane of her back arched in a way that has to be showing off, Sterling gulps at the lines of scratch marks along the dimples in her lower back. The marks she put there when she—

The- that grunt-moan thing, ending with some kind of squeal, that noise that is completely normal when coming out of a stretch, yet simultaneously cute and hot when coming out of April, makes Sterling think that maybe this once, at least for a minute, she can ignore this outlier. Grabbing April by the waist, she pushes her into the headboard, kisses her until they’re both panting into each other’s mouths. So it could be that or the hunger causing this lightheadedness, but there’s a different hunger to satiate.

And she will, first pressing their foreheads together and popping a kiss on her nose before her lips start their path down her neck—only soft kisses, tongue dragging to taste salt and something specifically April—across her chest—reverent presses to her skin, drinking her in—to her breasts—nipping at her, savoring her like an appetizer—to her tummy—getting a spot that has April breathing out something between a laugh and a moan—then over to her hip, wiggling in anticipation, where… absolutely nothing happens, since her stomach has an entire unsexy monologue to deliver, apparently. With the saddest, most defeated sigh in the whole wide world, she lets her head rest where it is, cheek on April’s hip.

“Yeaaaaah, I gotta eat real food.”

All the tension April was holding in her body, all the excitement manifested into coils wounding her taut, releases as she seems to deflate. “If we must.” A hand raked through Sterling’s scalp, from her hairline to the back of her head, sending tingles throughout.

“We must.” She leans into April’s soothing touch anyway.

Popping their sex bubble isn’t something Sterling really wants to do, but what choice does she have? She’s hungry and thirsty and all those previously listed reasons. If she could go to some weird sci-fi land where she could turn the act of sex with April into a tangible food item with nutritional value, absolutely she’d do that instead.

But as it stands, they have to brave the sexless landscape of the rest of the house. What’s the best way to prevent them from, uh, losing their way on their quest? She could just go on her own, but… nah, she doesn’t want to waste a single second of April’s company.

Oh, robes! They need robes. It takes much of the tiny amount of strength Sterling has left to come to terms with putting April in anything resembling clothes. Still, she trudges to the bathroom. There’s a modest, everyday bathrobe for her and a skimpy, silk one for April—who says she can’t continue to appreciate the view during her much-needed break?

“Seems excessive when no one’s home,” April says, slipping her arms in and making no further moves to wear it properly. The baby blue of the silk goes so nicely with her skin tone, though, only exaggerating the deep bruises Sterling’s left, some even showing impressions of her teeth, and it almost feels like an invitation to leave more, to feel them in her hands again, teasing one nipple while licking the other, and—

“Ah, I see. It’s more for your benefit.” And she’s pulled the robe around herself and tied the belt.

Sterling shakes the thought and finds April’s face all scrunched up and amused. “Shut up— It’s not even— Blair might show up, and like, make it weird, and—”

April’s smirking when she slides her hand into hers, warm and perfect; she’s smirking when she guides her to the door and opens it; Sterling’s even sure she’s smirking all the way downstairs, but she can’t know for sure because she lets April go first. Like she’s gonna pass up an opportunity to admire her ass. And maybe pinch it a little, which earns her a cute yelp and a playful, incredulous look thrown over her shoulder.

The kitchen emanates a glow similar to the one in her bedroom. All that’s missing is the pink hue. Yes, it’s the same sun descending in the same sky, and it’s shining into the same house they’ve been all day, but this particular glow… it’s not about their location or the positioning of the sun. And when April smiles at her, a genuinely happy smile that has her mushy, romantic heart finding all of the over-the-top comparisons she can make to it: to sparkling diamonds, to a magical portal only Sterling can access, to freakin’ unicorns galloping across a field of freakin’ daisies and poppies and sunflowers… she knows what the common denominator is here. She knows.

Chloe huffs muffled barks from her sleeping spot in the corner of the living room. That’s what shakes Sterling from her surreal detour on this journey.

“Distracted?” April’s traded her smile back in for that smirk. “Focus, Sterl. We have important… business to attend to.”

“Business, huh?” The fridge cools her when she opens it, but April against her back maintains the warmth. “What kind of business?” She pushes food around, more concerned with the breath on her neck.

“Paperwork…” A kiss there. “Presentations…” To her shoulder. “Participatory…” The way April moves behind her feels a lot like she has to stand on her tiptoes to kiss her collarbone. “Actions.” A bite in the same place.

“You are not helping,” Sterling says to the darkness of her eyelids.

“No? Okay, I’ll be of more assistance.” She doesn’t bother opening her eyes, wanting to dwell in the tingly moment of now. April’s arms stretch further around her, presumably into the fridge. Drawers scrape open, some things knock into others. She’s pulled back and that extra blast of cold is gone.

“Look. I helped,” April deadpans.

Coconut water, baby carrots, and hummus are arranged all thoughtfully on the island. “Awww,” Sterling coos, “thank you, babe. How’d you…?”

April shrugs, the tinge in her cheeks likely not from the hours of sex. “We’ve known each other for years. I retain information. Sue me.”

“Not the kind of business I want to get into with you,” Sterling retorts, snapping into a hummus-dipped carrot. As much as April’s attentiveness makes her feel all fuzzy and kind of turned on, she’s still gotta refuel, and that means not thinking about sex. Consuming calories. Not burning them. Yeah, she can do that. Thinking about something besides sex and April and sex with April for the first time in hours (days, months, etc.) is totally feasible. Possible, even.

Yup, totally possible, even with April’s oceanic eyes on her, equal parts intent and dreamy.

Chugging about half of the coconut water, she thinks instead of Blair saying it feels like someone spitting in her mouth—which she didn’t claim was a negative, just an observation—but Sterling likes it for replenishing electrolytes, and the peach mango flavor mostly covers up whatever sensation Blair thinks is there. Besides, it’s not so much like a mouthful of saliva as it is—she almost snorts the drink out of her nose. So much for not thinking about sex.

As Sterling is coughing, sputtering, and generally clearing her throat of what went down the wrong pipe, April disappears and reappears in a flash to replace coconut water with regular. Being all cute and heroic and rubbing Sterling’s back as she chugs that instead.

“Thanks.” One last clear of her throat and she’s back to the food. Going slow this time, though, just slowly crunching on these carrots. “Feel free to take anything you want.” She dips another in hummus and bites it in half, her chew garbling the, “Mi cocina es su cocina.”

April goes from rubbing her back, calming even after the choke attack, to encircling her waist from behind. Suddenly all Sterling feels is the cool tile beneath her feet, April’s warm lips back on her neck, and the white-hot urge to go back upstairs. A soft lip brushes her earlobe when April whispers, “Anything? Does that mean you’ll join this lovely… spread, as my snack?”

Sterling giggles nervously, abandoning her food to curl her hands around the edge of the counter. Though not a bad idea, “I’m not sure anyone in my family would appreciate that.” After some thought, “Blair would probably be proud in her weird way, but ultimately be like, ‘ew, we eat food here.’”

April slips her hand into the front of Sterling’s robe, fingers dragging along her stomach and tracing a trail upwards. “So? Cleaning isn’t hard.” Fingers reach the swell of her breast. “We could put down a towel.” The lightest touch of her nipple. “There are options,” she says, drawing out the last word and somehow making it three syllables.

“April,” who pinches a nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it and sparking another goddamn fire with a lick to her earlobe as she says in a faux-mocking tone, “Sterliiing.”

God, it’s so hard to say no to April. She could easily say yes. No one would be coming home. Blair would text her if she were coming back, but Sterling would hope she has the sense to stay far, far away from this… sexapalooza or whatever. Still, she shoots out a telepathic message to ensure Blair keeps her distance. And unless the venue for the couples’ retreat explodes or something, she doesn’t have to worry about her parents coming home.

“Okay,” she gives in.

April’s hand stops. “Okay?”

“Serve me up,” Sterling confirms, cringing at her word choice but rolling with it. She grabs her drink carton and spins to face her little temptress, “but—drink the rest of this. I love you very much, and I care about your safety and well-being, and I don’t need you like, passing out, in a compromised position, wearing next to nothing, in the middle of my kitchen.”

April rolls her eyes, but brushes Sterling’s fingers with her own when she takes the drink from her hand. “You’d think I’d be able to do what I want in mi cocina.” She drains the carton, tossing it aside and swiping the food to either side of the counter. Her hands cup the underside of Sterling’s ass.

“Wait, you meant literally?”

“Yes, Sterl.” And she’s hoisted onto the counter, quickly, easily. April’s intent gaze is back on her, a smirk curling her lips.

Over the cacophony of her brain saying girlfriend is strong in various cadences, Sterling manages to blurt, “You are so strong.” She delights at the glimmer in April’s eyes at the recognition. Then remembers she’s basically naked in a family common area. “I thought you meant just, like, having sex in the kitchen.”

“We are indeed in the kitchen.”

“On the counter?”

“We had a whole discussion about it.”

“About the counter?”

“Yes! What?! Where were you the whole time?”

“I don’t know!” She breaks into giggles. “You’re so hot it makes my brain go all silly sometimes!”

April’s lips purse tightly, her mouth telling the story of anger while her eyes sparkle with laughter. Sterling stares her down until she cracks, until April’s readily and joyously voicing her amusement at this situation, her tinkling laugh somehow even more beautiful in the acoustics of the kitchen.

Soon, it dies down, the silence bearing down in a way that’s not awkward, but anticipatory. All April has to do is lift her eyebrows, and Sterling gives a quick nod.

Sure hands spread her legs, rubbing up and down her thighs. Neither takes their eyes off what she’s doing. “Now, I was actually thinking we keep you in this. It’s practically a towel. Just as…” She lifts her chin, tilting her head as a smirk pulls her mouth into a lopsided grin. “Absorbent.”

Is she parched? She’s parched. She hydrated and she’s already parched. And how is April able to make such an unsexy word sexy? There’s already plenty for this robe to absorb. Makes it pretty easy for April to glide fingers through her, to part her gently with her thumbs, applying the lightest pressure up and down, like a sweet little massage. Sterling’s mesmerized by it, by April being mesmerized by it. “So pretty, Sterl, you’re so, so pretty,” she murmurs, working Sterling up to mewls and gasps. And pretty isn’t something she’d ever call that part of her, but when April says it, she believes her.

“Th-thank you,” Sterling manages, voice going up a pitch as April ducks to kiss her there instead, whimpering at only the plush feel of her lips. The way April’s head is bowed, how she’s taking her time, showering her in kisses meant to show only devotion—not lust, not prowess—

“No, thank you for allowing me to love you. Someone as beautiful,” punctuated by dragging her lip along one inner thigh, “and good, as you are.” Both lips pressed to the other thigh.

…It’s like worship. April finds her way back to the altar and plants offerings of adoration, of veneration. She’s speaking in tongues, the language she’s received from accepting love as it’s meant to be, as Sterling’s given it to her. Never could she have guessed that being with April like this, on this cold granite countertop no less, would be a religious experience.

Goosebumps prickle her skin—from the Holy Spirit overtaking her or from the chill of the AC as April pauses to untie the belt of her robe, Sterling isn’t sure. Hands both firm and soft slide up her thighs, squeeze her hips, and settle at the small of her back beneath the fabric. When she bows her head again, to kiss, to tongue, to service, Sterling imagines those hands have clasped in prayer.

A prayer, at first, that lacks the urgency of a Christian asking their God to please intervene, to please make this one thing happen for them. No, this prayer seems to say take your time. This prayer licks the length, avoids her clit, and truly tastes just to taste her. The whole thing is kind of meditative, no destination in mind, as she runs her hand through April’s hair, thumb brushing her temple.

Her concentration breaks from watching this sermon happening between her legs, her half-lidded, hazy attention going to the window, where she might see some… blurry-blobby… something?

“Shit,” she whispers, but her head is too sex-fogged to do anything about it. April, ever the loyal disciple, takes that as encouragement—not in a way that goes faster or harder, just shifts her focus to Sterling’s clit, giving short, slow licks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she breathes in time with each flick of her tongue. “April, I think there’s—”

April looks up then, her blown pupils meeting Sterling’s own wide eyes, her lips glossy and shiny from… praying. “I’m going to make you come now. Okay?”

Sex fog completely takes over, and… what was she just thinking about? Confident, cocksure, matter-of-fact April wipes her brain completely of any worry she maybe possibly have had seconds ago. How can she say no to someone so positive of her abilities? To set a goal and have no doubt she’ll get there? “Yeah. Yes. Okay. Please.”

Down she goes again, intoning the same prayer, changing nothing but the fervor with which she says it, that fraction of pressure making all the difference. Somehow April is way too good at pushing her buttons, and her prayers are answered, and Sterling’s hips are jerking and April’s lapping at her and she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s coming.

She’ll never get tired of that tongue. Or tasting herself on that tongue when she weakly pulls April back up for an open-mouthed kiss.

Even kissing is exhausting, though, with the orgasm and the whole core exercise of holding herself up, and when it becomes a lot, April has no issue catching Sterling when she slumps forward. “Yoooooouuuu,” she half-slurs, gnawing playfully at April’s neck, “need to carry me back upstairs.”

Those acoustics sure are something, making the melodic jingle of April’s laughter squeeze even tighter around Sterling’s heart, in the best way. “That good, huh?”

“Mhmmmmmm,” Sterling quits gnawing and gives April quick little kisses on her neck, elated by the squeal it causes as she finds her tickle spots. As, even in that hazy sex-jostled brain of hers, she makes a mental map of what places her lips can travel to make April sound that happy.

Gosh. Sex with April? Great. Excellent. Phenomenal. All the best adjectives there are. Sterling can’t wait for more. These small (yet huge) moments afterwards, though? When they’re seemingly still melded into one, and the love chemicals flood Sterling’s brain, and absolutely nothing else matters in the whole entire world except the way this girl makes her feel… yeah. It’s better than she ever could have dreamt it.

Chapter Text

This is blowing Sterling’s mind. Not just the sex—obviously, her mind is super mega blown by that—but the way April treats her in her descent from the heavens. Cupping her cheek. Brushing a thumb there. Giving her a small smile and the slightest head tilt, the light catching on all the shades of blue in her eyes. Encouraging her to take her time. 

And she was mostly joking when she asked April to carry her upstairs, but shouldn’t have been surprised when her girlfriend rose to the challenge. Presented her back to Sterling. Let her wrap her limbs around her like a cute little koala clinging to a tree to stay cool. 

Except it got hot. Pretty dang fast. April’s strong grip on her thighs. Sterling’s realizing how easily her hands could wander, could tease April. The natural friction between their bodies as they went up, up, up the stairs. Her body still needed a rest, though. More now than before. 

She’s made up her mind by the time her back bounces with the mattress as April plops her down, but instead of getting in bed with her, bends over to cup her face and kiss her forehead. Awash with the feeling of love, that all-encompassing thing that floods her body when April is around, she lets herself wade through it. Drown in it, if she wants to be a whole lot about it. But she hasn’t forgotten that she wants to make April feel as good as she’s made Sterling feel. 

“Sit on my face,” Sterling blurts, a breathy request. 

April pulls back, eyebrows fully raised. “Again?”

“Is that a no?” She tangles her fingers with April’s other hand. 

“Not… from where I’m standing.”

“Hopefully not from where you’ll be sitting, either.” And Sterling hopes that’s as hot and smooth as she intended, as she tugs on April’s hand to join her. 

Luckily, it is. April’s eyes light up, that specific flash that happens when Sterling surprises her. Without a word, they scramble to shed their robes and fling them across the room, then April climbs into bed. Having none of the fumbling or considering logistics from before, she swiftly straddles Sterling’s shoulders as Sterling’s arms loop around her thighs, refreshing herself on the feel of April’s ass in her hands. 

Meanwhile, April can’t look away from Sterling’s face, eyes roaming, studying her like a poem she wants to commit to memory, to recite to herself when she needs the company of familiar words. Reaching out, she tucks an errant strand of hair behind Sterling’s ear. “You want to know something?” she says in a voice so tender, way too tender for someone sitting naked on Sterling awaiting some not-so-tender activities. 

“I wanna know a lot of things, like why dildos are purple, and why Blair always beats me at Scrabble when I’m the smart one, and why—”

A finger to her lips interrupts her. “You challenge me to be my best self, and I am madly in love with you.”

April has a tendency to be vulnerable when in enclosed spaces with Sterling: in a broken elevator, a stuffy closet… when Sterling’s squeezed between her thighs. So, in true April fashion, she’s chosen an inopportune time to be too tender. Too, too, too, way too tender. Tears sting and prickle and threaten to fall, and it’s definitely an odd combination with the aforementioned arousal. Or maybe the tenderness is contributing to the arousal. It’s all very confusing. 

She kisses the finger, then nudges it away with her nose. Here’s where she should say something, right? Return the tender. She’s the romantic one, after all. No, where to even start to respond to that ? April saves her the trouble and lowers herself over Sterling’s mouth with a little extra push. 

The perfect warmth, the slightly sweet, heady scent, the peculiar tang as Sterling’s tongue swipes through her is exactly what she was asking for here. It’s even better than the first time, as there’s no longer the fear that she might suffocate. She’ll try to make it even better this time. Before, yeah, she made her come, but that was mostly the tip of her tongue swirling her clit. Now? Now, she’ll use some of the tricks she picked up from April’s worship. So she flattens her tongue, gives one broad lick after another as April’s hips gyrate above her. As April gets breathier and breathier. 

She wants more, wants to hear more of those noises, wants to cause more of those noises. It’s power, it’s the power mixed with the love mixed with the trust that she wants. April trusts her when she pulls her further down on her face, something they hadn’t done before—April losing full control of the situation. Sterling trusts herself to breathe through her mouth, as she remembers how good it felt to have her clit sucked, as she does the same for April, as April grinds her face and curses and pants and groans. Then, being curious, she trusts herself to try new things. 

Angling both her face and April’s hips just so, she plunges her tongue inside. The gasp in the room becomes a moan, Sterling guiding her by the hips up and down, intoxicated by the feeling of slick wetness from the tip of her nose to her chin. Wait, her nose, it has to be right at—she should try something. Her nose moves in the same kind of circles her fingers typically would, her tongue flexing and moving as deeply as it can within. 

“God, fuck, Sterl, what the— you— I’m—”

And that’s her cue to go faster, harder, deeper, taking advantage of the friction her nose affords, the fullness her tongue affords, and to get that extra oomph she digs her nails into the small of April’s back, about in the same spot as before. 

It’s definitely enough. April’s fingers thread through Sterling’s hair, yanking up and holding her exactly where she needs her, riding her face, thighs twitching and convulsing against her cheeks, knees squeezing her ears, and it’s very possible that Sterling’s airway might be cut off for a second or two or five or ten, but it’s worth it for the stifled screams, the muted moans that cloud her consciousness. 

Still, she doesn’t die of asphyxiation. April eases off, allowing Sterling to breathe, an ability she uses to lessen her licks and make sure April is brought back down with the pace and care and love she deserves, ending with kisses all around her. 

“Baby,” April pants, leaning forward but shimmying backward so she’s not on Sterling’s chest, “I haven’t the earthliest idea where any of that came from, but I must say… I liked it very much.”

As she’s moving down Sterling’s body, April’s breasts brush past her face. Instead of being normal and letting them pass, she catches a nipple with her tongue, loving the whimper she gets. In her hand, she kneads and rolls and pinches the other. Yeah. Sterling isn’t quite done with her. 

“Do you want me back where I was? Because that’s the direction this is going.”

“Can’t a girl admire her girlfriend’s boobs?” Sterling mumbles against the soft flesh. 

“Have you been doing anything but?”

Sterling rolls her eyes and goes back to what she was doing, tongue flicking a pebbled nipple, but fingers rake her scalp and twist hair around a fist, dragging her away. Okay, yeah, that’s hot, as April continues moving back down her body, and when they’re face to face, she brings their lips together, tongue forcing Sterling’s mouth open, licking inside, at the back of her teeth, at the roof, tasting herself and tasting Sterling mingled together. The kiss softens, becoming more praise than reprimand, worshipping her mouth with the same treatment she received in the kitchen. 

Her fingers slacken, carefully gliding through Sterling’s hair instead, but still getting caught in sex-mussed tangles. The kiss stops with one pressed to her lips, then to her nose, then to her forehead. And in one move, April rolls onto her back and pulls Sterling into her arms. The press of skin against skin glows like embers refusing to be snuffed after a bonfire. 

“This is nice,” Sterling sighs, nuzzling into the dip of April’s collarbone.

April hums, clearly content, kissing her forehead again and squeezing her closer. 

“This, and all of that before, and honestly the in-between, too.”

“All of that before? Is that what we’re calling it?” April teases. 

“What else should I call it? Lots of stuff happened before and I think all of that sums it up well!”

“You could always…” April drums her fingertips on Sterling’s shoulder. “Describe it?”

“You were there, babe,” Sterling giggles, touching the peak of April’s hipbone and drawing squiggles over it. 

April’s other hand rests on Sterling’s, along for this little ride. “So I was, but I think it’d be… nice, to hear your side of things.”

“Nice?” Sterling echoes, pausing to tickle April’s bellybutton, eliciting a squeal. It then leads her past her hip to rest her palm on her thigh. All of this is totally innocent; she just wants to keep her hands on April. 

“More… affirming, of what we’re doing, of what I’m doing, I suppose.” April kisses the top of her head, squeezes her, already as close as possible, but obviously wanting to be closer. “No pressure. Say what feels right for you.”

What feels right for her? Sterling is now just like, mind blank, and suddenly has no memory of what happened in the past 8 hours or how to describe it. It’s a big ask, putting all of that to words. How she was so ready to pounce, then the anxiety gripped and she wasn’t so ready anymore, then how they made love, and after how they’d—

How is she supposed to put into actual, verbal words the way April wrecked her with her lightning storms and her volcanoes and her hurricanes? Not only the deliciously disastrous, but the silly, the lazy, the risky sex. All of it! How to even articulate that when her brain is an empty bowl of soup?

“We had— I mean, you and I— us, together—” Well, this isn’t working. Hmmm, okay, wait. Didn’t April like it when she cursed? “We fucked,” and her hand curls around April’s thigh, encouraged by the quiet hitch in April’s throat to inch upwards as she continues. “And like, made each other come, a lot, with our hands and our mouths and, like, our bodies. And you sat on my face, and I fucked you with my tongue, and…” now she’s cupping the heat between April’s legs, to which April gives a subtle push of her hips to get more touch. 

“And… you want me to do that again? Fuck you again, don’t you, baby?”

April groans, grazing fingertips over Sterling’s hand. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’re that insatiable.” Sterling drags lazily, touching everywhere but where April wants her. 

“Forgive me for taking what’s mine while I’ve got the opportunity.”

“You’re forgiven.” Sterling briefly feels how turned on April’s become (again), but doesn’t stay there for long as she moves to play with the meticulously trimmed blond curls. 

“How gracious of you,” April breathes. Sterling’s honestly surprised she hasn’t yet taken matters in her own hands. Perhaps that’s behavior to be rewarded?

She props herself up on one elbow, anchoring her. Touches April where she needs her. Watches how her face shifts with each touch, utterly fascinated by the way she’s able to make April feel so good. If April liked descriptions after the fact, maybe it would make her feel good to hear them during the fact?

“Is this how you like it?” she tries, parting April to get the best angle. “You like when I fuck you with my fingers, when I play with your clit?”

April’s eyes snap open, that same flash passing over them. The smirk that twists her face tells Sterling that she doesn’t at all mean the, “Could be better,” especially as she’s out of breath when she says it. 

“You bitch,” Sterling laughs, and so does April. “Ungrateful, too. I was just about to fill you. Was even gonna ask if you wanted two or three.”

April bites her cheek to keep from smiling. “Dream. Big.”

Permission, consent, is what Sterling takes that as, when she eases three fingers in at once and delights at the eyes-closed, head-thrown-back whine it gets out of April. “Okay, baby, you want me to fuck you now?”

“Uh huh,” April manages. 

“How hard?”

“Hard,” she whines again, raising her hips in an attempt to push them deeper. 

“And how bad do you want it?”

“So very badly.” A few more seconds and Sterling is sure April will take over the situation, but she keeps her fingers where they are, unmoving, and… April just whimpers and lifts, wiggles her hips. Oh, it is so good to see April Stevens like this. What else can she do?

“Too bad.”

A glare blazing with the intensity of the potential orgasm Sterling’s withholding burns behind April’s eyes. “What do you mean too bad?” Oops, oh no, whatever is Sterling to do with an angry April? Certainly not double down and make her angrier. 

“I mean, too bad. So sad. I’m playing the tiniest violin about it. Or…” She curls her fingers. Just once. “Beg for it.”

And it’s the trickiest test of April’s life: her pride versus her pleasure. Bunching the sheets in her fist. Biting her lip. Wiggling her hips again, like Sterling will forget the ask. 

“Beg for it, baby, and I promise I’ll fuck you good. I’ll fuck you like, like an asteroid or something is heading towards us, and it’ll wipe us out like the dinosaurs, and it’s the last time you’ll ever come.” Her fingers begin to move, only minutely, almost imperceptibly, like the vaguest twitch. 

“That’s extreme. Asteroids and dinosaurs, Sterl? Really?” April pushes her hips forward, one half-step away from taking over altogether.

But that’s not really the game they’re playing here, is it? The game they’re playing requires some vulnerability on April’s end, some surrender of control, some real groveling. She’s seen it happen like, romantically, but what does it look like sexually? So Sterling giveth, but Sterling also… taketh away, slowly making to completely remove her hand, when April’s snaps around her wrist, just holding her there. 

Desperate, dilated eyes meet hers; perfect, pillowy lips pronounce each word like she’s delivering the closing argument for a debate she knows she’ll win. “Please, Sterling, please, please, please fuck me until I’m screaming.” A squeeze to her wrist. “Please fuck me until the only utterance I remember is your name.” A tongue slowly, carefully wetting her own lips. “How else do you want me to say it? Do you want it in other languages? Por favor. S’il te plaît. Bitte. Just move your fingers on, inside me until I’m coming. Please.”

Well, that was far better than Sterling expected. For that, April gets a, “Good girl.” 

Breaking promises isn’t really something Sterling likes to do, especially after that one time, so she sets out to make good on her word, curling her fingers inside in time with her thumb keeping hold of her clit, so wet that it clumsily slips off every other rotation or so, but finds its way back and establishes a rhythm. So Sterling goes back to watching her face: the twitch in her brow, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, her breaths short and heavy on her chest. When she detects little to no change, she shifts her angle, thrusting rather than curling, curling rather than thrusting, removing her fingers entirely to focus fully on the clit. 

Which is when April’s hips jump and rotate in the same pattern Sterling swirls her, finding the button and pushing, flicking. Here April’s breathing speeds up, turns to whines, groans, and as Sterling lowers her head to lick and kiss a nipple, ultimately tugging it between her teeth is what does it. 

“Fuck.” Sterling kisses back up to her neck. “Sterling, Sterl, Sterliiiiing, Sterling.” Cups her jaw, swallows the stifled moans. “Please, yes, fuck.” Feels the exhales against her face. 

April claws at Sterling’s back, dragging down already-marred skin. Sinking in. The sting feels good.

The frantic jumping in April’s hips slows, gradually comes to a stop, and April throws any of the energy she has left into kissing Sterling as hard as she can, reacquainting their tongues, biting her lip, sucking it into her mouth. 

The energy runs out, though, the biting and sucking turns to lingering kisses, and with a few short, quick ones to top the cherry on their spicy-sweet sundae, Sterling whispers against her lips, “I love you, too.”

“Huh?” A dazed April says eloquently. 

“Before, when you said you’re madly in love with me. Just wanted you to know. I love you, too.”

April lets out one little laugh, more a scoff with a genuine smile. “That was, like, two orgasms ago.”

“Does that make it any less valid?”

“Not at all.” April nudges her nose with Sterling’s. “Lie down on me. I can feel your feeble arms about to give out.”

Sterling does as she’s told, again—not without a weak shut up— nestling into the spot in April’s arms God designed just for her, hooking her leg over April’s. A comfortable silence passes between them, interrupted only by almost chuckles as Sterling traces her ribcage. April catches her hand and intertwines their fingers, thumb brushing knuckles. 

One thing’s for sure. April has learned the best ways to make Sterling feel cared for. She’s paid attention, she’s listened, and she’s used all that evidence as study material to give Sterling the best experience she can. She really has. But Sterling’s no slouch herself. She pays attention. She listens. She matches the energy. And, she concludes as she brings April’s hand to her lips and kisses every finger one by one, isn’t that what love is about?

Chapter Text

“A lot of newness,” April says, like she’s commenting on the weather.

“Yeah, I— did you like it?”

“No, Sterling, those were cries of anguish.” She squeezes her hand and brings it to her lips for a kiss. “Of course I liked it. And now I see you meant it when you said you’d be willing to try anything with me.”

“It’s— I didn’t plan that.”

“Is there anything that you did plan? Any specific visions? Perhaps some fantasies?”

“Oh! Ummmm…” Fantasies. Fantasies? Things she’d like to do to April? Things she’d like April to do to her? Fantasies go hand in hand with masturbation, which Sterling does a lot. Those ones from before, though, they’re like, probably rated PG-13 compared to everything that’s happened today. Fantasies, no, not fantasies, but… dreams?

Spanking. From that one dream. It was a weird dream, so Sterling’s not going to consider the rest of it, but the main conceit was the spanking. April taking her over her knee, palm red hot against her ass, over and over and over, scolding her for something. Like, Sterling the student. April the teacher. Wouldn’t it sound so stupid out loud, though? Wouldn’t it—

“You can tell me.”

Sterling squeezes her eyes shut and burrows her face into April’s neck. “No, no, I mean, you don’t have to. Like, you’ve already done so much for me, and, and, and made me feel good— and what we’ve been doing is more than enough, and—”

There’s nothing cold in the laughter that bubbles out, that vibrates in April’s chest. It’s pure warmth when she says, “Suddenly you’ve sprouted a sense of shame?”

She pops up to her own defense, eye contact and conviction the most important thing in this moment. “I am not ashamed of anything that’s happened here.”

“Then why be ashamed of anything else you want to happen?”

“What if it sounds, I don’t know… dumb, or- or silly, comical, ridiculous when I say it out loud?”

“Turning into a thesaurus is not going to deter me from wanting to know what you need from me.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a need—”

“Sterling,” April admonishes, “tell me.”

“Maybe, I mean… okay, this is kind of stupid…” So many interesting things in the room. The curtains. The bookshelf. The desk— literally everything but April.

“No, it’s not.”

“And you can obviously say no, but like…”

“That will be for me to decide.”

“Okay, so like, this is gonna sound really weird, or maybe not in the context of, y’know, all our metaphor…ize…ing, but I had a, um, dream? Yep, I had a-a dream, and you were there, and it was like student-teacher… stuff? And you may have been… spanking… me?”

Oh, silence. That’s worse than being laughed at, isn’t it? Sterling went too far. Scholarship obviously isn’t a thing that April would want to incorporate into their, sexual, uh… theatrics? Probably where her head is, anyway. Like, no wonder she’s quiet. Even April Stevens has to take a beat to find the words to reject Sterling, especially now that they’re in love, and only recently reconciled, and—

“How would that storyline progress? Truly. I don’t know. I’ve never once misbehaved in an academic setting.”

Now that’s interesting, so April has Sterling’s attention again, interesting enough to fix her with a look so incredulous and bewildered as she enunciates, “Bible. Class.”

April’s laughter emphasizes the dimple by her eye as she turns away. “To the teacher’s knowledge!”

“Important distinction.” Sterling kisses the dimple down to April’s cheek, still full with a smile which dims only out of necessity as she claims Sterling’s lips with her own, kisses soft and sweet with the occasional gentle nibble, April’s nails lightly scraping the nape of her neck.

“So what do you feel you’ve done wrong, for which you must be punished?” She says when she breaks the kiss, eyes narrowed and teasing as she pushes Sterling’s hair out of her face.

Sterling quirks a brow. “I mean, at this point I feel like you should be the punish…ee? Is that a word? It should be.”

“It’s not my fantasy.” April’s brow quirks in return, a challenge, that damn criminal smirk twisting onto the scene. What choice does Sterling have but to kiss it right off her smug face—suck that snide lip into her mouth, tame it with the lazy, tantalizing drag of her tongue, coax her to comply with the—

Bzzzzt, bzzzzt.

Ignoring it, yep, just ignoring that. Can’t be anything pressing, not more than her tongue pressing April’s—

Bzzzzt, bzzzzt.

Another text after the first one, okay, might be serious, but nothing she can’t check in like, an hour, which should be plenty of time to—

Bzzzzt, bzzzzt.

This better be a damn emergency. Like, someone in their immediate family had better be dying, like on their deathbed, asking specifically for Sterling to come read their funeral rites or whatever. Hoping this series of texts isn’t the deathbed of the very good, hot sex this was about to become, she ends the kiss with a few quick ones and a sigh, and—in spite of April’s little groan and make them wait—Sterling scans the room for her shorts, from where she didn’t bother to remove her phone before April all but ripped them off.

A couple feet from the bed is where she finds them. Her arm might be able to reach, from her place pretty much on top of April? Yeah? Maybe? “Well, this is unnecessary,” her very patient girlfriend pipes up.

She could get off the bed and get it that way? No, that’s too much work. And she doesn’t want to like, ruin the moment anymore than she already has by physically stepping away from it. She’s got this! Instead, she drapes herself across April’s cozy lap, gaining the leverage she needs to fish her phone from the pocket.

Blair: 👉🏻🌮❓

Blair: 💦💦💦

Blair: ⁉️⁉️⁉️

No one is dying. Yet. TBD on Blair.

Sterling: not anymdnndj

Keysmash and a little flinch because… ooh, gosh, because that red hot palm from her dreams becomes a reality, lands the sharpest, exacting smack to her ass. Her eyes close to bask in the sting buzzing through her, the hand still warm on her skin. Oh, right. The text. She hits send. Blair will get it.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Was that okay? I was just… trying it.”

“No, yeah, it was…” Sterling walks her hands back, scooching and lifting herself until her upper half is back on the bed. “Could you, um… do it again?”

It takes some wiggling and rearranging on both their parts, but April ends up situated against the headboard with Sterling draped more deliberately in her lap, this time without the blood rush to the head. She rubs soothing patterns into where she’d smacked before. “You sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Sterling’s teeth sink into her bottom lip, the anticipation already building low in her stomach. She turns her head to look at April and props her elbow on the mattress, resting her chin in her hand. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“In my readings regarding… acts, such as these, they advise negotiating a safe word.”

“Okay, what if it’s—”

“Sterling, if you suggest elevate, I swear to God I’m putting on my clothes and leaving.”

And just like that, it’s easy to fall into their rhythm. “Wouldn’t God prefer you weren’t, like, naked in bed with me in the first place?”

“Are you forgetting that we just finished a project all about choice in the Bible?”

“Technically didn’t finish.”

“Yes, well, we finished each other plenty of times.”

Sterling gulps. “So what is a safe word supposed to do? Is ‘please stop’ not enough?”

April shrugs. “I guess it’s supposed to be something jarring enough to take you out of the moment.”

“Like your dad’s name, for instance?”

The hand immediately retracts, as if the mere mention of her father warrants a no-touching policy. “A safe word’s intention is to make you feel safe, not want to self-detonate.”

But she doesn’t like that policy, so she reaches to put the hand back where it was. “Okay, how abooouuuut,” Sterling stretches out the word as April rubs gently from her ass up to her mid-back. It definitely makes her feel safe. “Cherry Grigio.”

April’s hand only stops this time, which is progress. “I get that you had your experimentation with alcoholic beverages, but you can’t possibly think that this is the time to imbibe.”

“No, I meant for the word!”

“Why Cherry Grigio?”

Sterling doesn’t really think it’s necessary to explain the skip Yolanda once dubbed “her favorite TV show,” but something about her name as a nonsensical term and her ability to escape any situation confirms this as a good option for Sterling. Not that she anticipates needing to “just go grab her stuff,” but still.

“Not important,” Sterling chuckles, arching into April’s careful touch. “It took you out of the moment and didn’t personally offend you, right?”

“Correct,” April replies, resuming her rubbing. “Whatever works for you, my love.”

Every new term of endearment sends Sterling into the goofiest flutter, even as she’s literally naked in her girlfriend’s lap. “You work pretty well for me.”

A pinch to her ass, a yelp. “Yeah? Sterl, that’s the kind of review you post for an Amazon product you’re rating three stars.”

“You should feel grateful. This is a step up from your zero stars from before,” Sterling snarks, clearly setting out for another pinch.

Which she gets. “I shoot for the stars and that’s what you give me in return?”

“Would you prefer a comparison to, like, the hypothetical employee I pay very little money under the table to do a crappy job?” Sterling snarks again, trying for more of a rise out of April, more than a pinch.

“You do not mean that.” April protests, punctuating it with the lightest tap that doesn’t match the growl in her voice.

“Proving my point. You can do better than that,” Sterling challenges, turning away again to fully prop herself on both elbows. She’s gonna need the support.

“Oh, I fully intend to.” The first spank lands a little farther up than is comfortable, missing that necessary sharp sting. She still arches to meet the touch, rocking her hips as April rubs the spot.

The warm palm slides down, cupping and rubbing and kneading her. “You like that, baby?”

“Very much,” Sterling whines.

Her hand comes down again, this time striking the sweet spot, the pain reverberating between her legs to mix with the pleasure found there. When soothing palm meets heated flesh, teasing fingertips brushing her inner thigh, Sterling is whimpering for more.

And so it goes, April alternating between unrelenting pain and unbelievable relief, alternating cheeks when Sterling squeaks out the request. Now her mouth is dry but she’s so soaked. She squirms, her ass still in the air and under April’s hand. “Please.”

“We’ve been over this, Sterl. What is it you’re asking for?”

“P-please, I need you—”

“Need me to what, baby? I know you can do this. We both know how powerful words can be.”

It’s cruel. So fucking cruel. April knows exactly what she wants and what she needs. “April, you fucking—I need you to take your goddamn fingers and fucking put them inside me!”

“Mmmm, dirty talk. When you’re the one in this position? Who knew my baby had it,” she slips a finger in where Sterling needs her most, “in her.”

April’s teasing has her feeling feisty, has her feeling like she needs— “More.”

“Patience,” April purrs, which is the last thing Sterling has as one finger slowly drags in and out, in and out of her.

Then completely out. An involuntary noise of protest rattles her throat.

“Hang on, move for a second,” she says, nudging Sterling’s hip until she moves out of her lap in a daze.

“Okay, as you were. Head down, ass up,” April orders.

Authoritarian April, once simply hot, now makes Sterling want to rebel, to make her work for her demands. So she twists her lips into a smirk. “And if I don’t?” A head tilt for some extra challenge.

“I can arrange your cooperation.” April gets closer, lips almost touching hers, brushing her top lip with Sterling’s bottom lip, and Sterling’s so caught up in that, she doesn’t protest when April turns her so she’s exactly in the position requested: pressing her head to the pillow, pinning her wrists behind her back. It’s a little stifling, being restrained like this, the feeling ushering her into some unwanted memories. Helpless. Unwashed hose. Locked in a bathroom. She needs out. This isn’t— the word’s on the tip of her tongue, and if she tries hard enough to breathe normally she’ll be able to get it out. She just needs to grab her stuff. “Ch—”

Finishing the word isn’t necessary as April releases her wrists and links one hand with hers instead. She leans over to whisper, “See?” The fingers of her other hand glide through Sterling’s hair, gently, tingling the love down her spine, but reminding of the control when she twists and pulls.

Sterling chokes out a moan as she melts into the touch, pushing her head up into April’s hand.

“You’re going to behave now?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sterling concedes in a pant.

“Thank you.” Kisses press her neck. “But I still have to teach you what happens when you give me lip.” This version of April is something else. Sterling isn’t complaining, but she won’t stop teasing.

“Lip? I’m getting punished for kissing you?”

“Hah,” April deadpans with a tug at her hair. “No one likes a class clown, Sterl.”

Ordinarily, a position like this would leave Sterling feeling self conscious. Naked—well, obviously, but more in an exposed way. But with April, she’s okay with it. She’s okay being on display. She’s okay letting April take care of her and seeing her through this wild ask of hers.

“I’m going to let go of your hand now, but please keep both to yourself. You can touch me when I’ve deemed it appropriate. And I will deduct points for disobedience.”

Sterling moves her forearms to frame either side of her head, holding them rigid, determined not to move.

This time, her punishment feels more like a reward: two fingers inside her. And this time, April’s hand is on her ass, going back to rubbing and kneading while she fucks her.

The displacement of air signals what’s about to happen before it does, her hand coming down on her ass in a swift movement while the other dutifully fucks her deeply, curling fingers to hit all the right spots, thumb finding her clit.

Sterling drives her head into the pillow, heating up all over, biting the skin of her own arm to keep from getting too loud, to keep from screaming. The combination of pain and pleasure has her mind completely blank of anything but this, this, this. What April’s doing to her. How April knows the rhythm, can coordinate her movements. How it’s not just hit, and then hit, and then hit. It’s hit, knead, caress, hit. It’s “You’re taking this so well, baby.” It’s “You’re such a good girl.” It’s Sterling whimpering around the pain she’s inflicting on her own arm. Yes, yes, yes, she is a good girl.

And all the while, April’s fingers—God, her fingers, filling her, two and then three, reaching into a part of Sterling that could combust at any second. It’s there, there, there, and then it’s…

Gone?

Sterling feels like a rag doll, but April treats her like a priceless collector’s edition when she turns her onto her back, and her vision is unfocused, but she can totally tell how red April’s face is, hovering above her, how satisfied she looks.

A soft kiss, replaced by the three fingers pushing past Sterling’s lips. Her other hand between Sterling’s legs again, circling her clit all slow and agonizing. April lets out a little gasp, stutters over the spot she’d targeted, when Sterling sucks her fingers deeper into her mouth, scrapes them with her teeth.

There’s a rustle in the hallway, and everything stops. April looks over her shoulder one way, then the other. Seemingly satisfied again, she eases her fingers out of Sterling’s mouth and instead seals her palm over it. “Not. A. Sound,” she hisses.

And she’s back on target, focused and deliberate and quick, and Sterling’s panting against her hand, which turns to muffled whimpers, to cries she stifles with a bite. She doesn’t know how April does it, but each orgasm seems to be better than the last. If she keeps going like this, lightning storms to volcanoes to hurricanes, disaster after disaster after disaster, she’ll skip straight to apocalypse and Sterling won’t even have a world for April to rock.

Convulsing, thrashing, and—there’s the sensitivity again. She nudges April’s hand away, interlocking their fingers instead.

“Y’all done now? Ya good?”

Ice zings through Sterling’s veins.

“Yes, Blair. For now.” April gets up and calmly puts on the bathrobe, tossing Sterling the silk one. Once both are covered, she opens the door.

“Can we help you?”

“I left my—aha! There it is!” Blair squeezes past April to unearth from their discarded clothes whatever forgotten item she thought necessary to interrupt this.

“You should really check your phone, Sterl. I’ve been texting for like an hour.”

“Your dumb emojis?”

“No! I specifically said I was coming! But obviously I’m not the only one.” Blair wiggles her eyebrows.

“Shut uuuup,” Sterling says, not able to look Blair in the eye or argue.

“I’ll get out of your hair so you can get back in each other’s pants. Or. Robes?”

“Yes, thank you, Blair,” Sterling mutters, pulling the not-enough fabric tighter around her.

“Anytime, sis.” Blair shoots finger guns at her. “Love you! And I tolerate you, April!”

“Yes, yes, you’re an inevitable presence in my life too, Blair.”

The inevitable presence vanishes and April locks the door behind her.

“Why are you being so chill about this?” Sterling huffs and runs an agitated hand through her unkempt hair. “Why did you let me finish when she was right there? And how did you even know it was her?”

“One, sex is blissful,” April starts to list off on fingers that were just in a place far more enticing than, like, the air. “Two, I can’t imagine she hasn’t heard it before?” She gestures at the bathroom door. “And three, she’s got distinctive footsteps.”

Well. Sterling really can’t argue with that. “And… it was kinda hot to almost get caught?”

“That, too.” April nudges her back into the pillows, lifts Sterling’s arm, and settles herself into another cuddle.

“I’d like a break for real this time. Can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I am sexed out.”

April’s laugh is melodic as ever. “And here I thought you could keep going and going and going…”

“You want something with batteries, I’m sure I know someone who could recommend a good vibrator.”

“Is this someone also a Wesley?”

“I mean, you can ask if it’s Blair. I’m pretty sure you don’t want sex toy advice from my mom and/or dad, or like, even my weird, uppity grandpar—”

“Is this someone Blair Wesley?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Though I don’t doubt Blair’s expertise in,” April considers the right word, “sensual lifestyle products, let’s save that for… next time?”

Sterling raises her brows. “Next time?”

“Next time.” April nods. “You get an A, which means there’s room for improvement, which means there will be a next time.”

“I like the sound of next time.” And Sterling really does, especially when sealed with the kiss of smiling lips.