“Afraid to punch a blind girl?”
Savannah snorted, didn’t answer that. “I don’t need to roll,” she said with dignity. “As long as I get a push from behind.”
Marcie tilted her head to see Dana do just that, her hands incredibly gentle as she helped Savannah to her feet. She noticed Dana also caressed Savannah’s swollen belly under the silk tunic, and Savannah’s lips curved at the gesture. Matt’s wife had always been the more austere aunt of the K&A family, even when Marcie eavesdropped on those tea parties. Cass told her it had taken Savannah far longer to trust their female circle than the other women, but that it had taken the K&A men a long time to win her faith as well.
“You understand him, don’t you?” Maybe it was the moment, feeling like nothing was off limits, but that austerity that always kept her somewhat at arm’s length with Matt’s wife felt a little less restrictive right now.
Savannah paused long enough that Marcie was about to apologize, retreat, but then the elegant fingers wrapped around hers, tightened.
“I give Ben a great deal of credit for what he made of himself. When I met Matt, the official story about Ben was that he’d spent most of his formative years in New England, and he and Matt had met at Yale. Nothing about him suggested otherwise, as if he’d internalized that version of himself. They protected his past, not to make his life a lie, but so that he could stand away from it, not be defined by it, though of course emotionally, he still is.
“It is a mortal wound, when you realize that your parents don’t love you. Don’t want you. What dies is hard to resurrect, because we learn faith and trust on the foundation of our parents’ love. Even if Ben carries such a wound, his behavior tonight seems extreme to me. However, my father’s coldness was buffered by a house, servants, physical safety. A lack of material want. Ben didn’t have any of those things.”
“Okay.” Marcie squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. Both for asking and for the fact that happened to you. I’ve loved you since I met you, even though you’ve always been a little intimidating.”
“She needs to come to the next Jell-O-shot night.”
“Don’t you have something you should be doing over there?” Savannah asked, narrowing her eyes at Dana. But when Marcie looked up at her again, Savannah’s expression softened in a way she hadn’t seen before. She touched Marcie’s forehead. “They resurrected me,” she said. “All of them. Don’t worry, it will work out.”
Marcie drew in her breath as Dana put another ice cube on her ass, only she was a little bit more forward about it than Savannah. She parted her buttocks, slid the ice right up against her anus, setting off a whole series of flashbacks. Ben’s tongue there, his fingers, his cock stretching her. She whimpered, digging her nails into Savannah.
“Yeah, he has that effect on a woman.” Dana’s amusement had a sultry, serious purr to it, one that kept everything humming. Her slim fingers drew provocative circles on the marks. “He switched you good. Did you like it?”
“Yes.” Marcie swallowed over her raw throat. She was going to have a permanent rasp from these past few days. “I like everything he does to me, and I just want more. The only thing I didn’t like was how he was feeling, what he was feeling.”
“Yeah. The boy has issues. Think we need to skip all this childhood therapy shit and just have Peter bash his head against a brick wall a few times.”
“He has a very hard head.”
“That ain’t all.”
The switch from grim amusement to mischief was welcome. An unexpected little giggle bubbled up in her. She must be feeling punchy. “The other night…I lost count of how many times he came. What guy can do that?”
“He’s a cranky young god. Thor has his magic hammer, Ben has his hundred-horsepower cock.”
Rachel chuckled while Savannah shook her head. “A long time ago, I told Dana that Ben wants a woman’s soul, not her heart.”
“Because the devil can take your soul,” Dana added, brushing her mouth on the small of Marcie’s back. “But he can’t take a heart. It has to be given, and usually requires one given in exchange.”
Marcie was pretty sure Ben already had her soul, but there was another caveat. In order to give a heart, someone had to accept it. Dana started kneading Marcie’s buttocks, creating that low-level discomfort that made her shiver, made her want more. “Yeah, you like that,” the blind woman observed. “You’re a pain junkie. No wonder you’ve fucked with Ben’s head so well. Let’s get you up on your knees, little sister.”
She didn’t know what to say to any of that, but she didn’t have to do so. Instead, she was clutching Savannah with both hands, because Dana slid one of those hands beneath her, enough to lift her a few inches off the lounger, and put her mouth between Marcie’s legs. She’d never had a woman there, and the soft mouth, the feminine licks, were a different experience entirely from Ben’s strong mouth and penetrating tongue. But Dana was focused, probably using her knowledge of what pleasured herself to bring Marcie to a different place, where thinking was no longer an option. She licked the cold labia, heating them up, stroked the clit with a broad then curling tongue. Two separate, dragging sensations. She tugged on the clit ring, making Marcie undulate against her with a moan.
Both strong brown hands now moved to Marcie’s hips, thumbs nudging her inner thighs to spread her open. Marcie adjusted without thought, seeking more of that feeling, planting her knees out wide on the lounger.
She was propped on her elbows, and still holding Savannah’s hands. When Savannah switched their grips, moving hers to Marcie’s wrists, the suggestion of restraint was enough to send Marcie up another few notches.
