Temporary Measures

“Val,” she whines, her thighs clamping around my waist. “Val, I need you.”

I know what she’s asking for. I slide down her body, pressing a trail of kisses along her stomach until I reach the waistband of her boyshorts. I hook my fingers in the fabric, tugging them down her legs and tossing them aside.

Sabrina whines, her hands fisting in the sheets. “Please,” she breathes, her hips rocking up. “Please, Val.”

I don’t make her wait. I settle between her thighs, spreading her open with my thumbs. She’s glistening wet, her clit swollen and flushed, and I can’t help but lean in and press a reverent kiss to the soft skin of her inner thigh.

“Valentina,” Sabrina whines, her fingers knotting in my hair. “Please, just—”

I take pity on her, swiping my tongue over her in one broad, flat stroke. Sabrina cries out, her hips bucking up, her thighs trembling on either side of my head. I do it again, savoring the taste of her on my tongue, the way she writhes beneath me.

“God, you’re good at this,” Sabrina gasps, her head thrown back, her chest heaving. “Fuck, Val—”

I don’t let her finish. I wrap my lips around her clit, sucking gently, and she comes apart with a shout, her body shaking, her thighs clamping tight around my ears. I keep licking her through it, my tongue stroking over her clit until she’s a boneless, panting mess beneath me.

I crawl back up her body, bracing myself on my elbows on either side of her head. Sabrina’s eyes are hazy and unfocused, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed pink. I lean down, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her lips.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” I murmur against her mouth. “All soft and warm and sated.”

Sabrina smiles, her arms looping around my neck to pull me closer. “Your turn,” she says, her voice rough and low.

I raise an eyebrow, my lips quirking into a grin. “Is that so?”

She nods, her fingers skimming down my back to cup my ass. “Mhmm. I want to make you feel good too.”

“Well, I’m not going to say no to that,” I chuckle, rolling onto my back and pulling her with me.

Sabrina settles between my thighs, her hair falling around us like a curtain. She kisses me, deep and slow, her tongue stroking against mine as her hands roam over my body. I arch into her touch, my own hands finding her hips to guide her rhythm.

“Sabrina,” I gasp when she rolls her hips against mine, the pressure sending sparks dancing along my nerves. “Fuck—”

“Shh,” she murmurs, her lips brushing the corner of my mouth. “I’ve got you.”

She works her way down my body with a single-minded focus that makes my head spin, her lips and tongue and teeth mapping every inch of my skin. By the time she settles between my thighs, I’m a trembling, panting mess, my hips rocking up in silent plea.

Sabrina doesn’t tease. She leans in, her tongue swiping over me in one sure, confident stroke, and my hips buck up off the bed. She does it again, her hands digging into my thighs to hold me still, and I can’t help the high, needy sound that tears from my throat.

“God, Sabrina,” I gasp, my head falling back, my eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck—”

She hums against me, the vibration sending a current of pleasure through my veins. Her tongue is everywhere—circling my clit, dipping inside me, tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I’m babbling by the time she focuses her attention on my clit, my hands fisting in her hair as I rock shamelessly against her mouth.

Sabrina takes it all in stride, her tongue working me with a single-minded intensity that has me hurtling towards the edge in record time. My orgasm builds fast and sharp, a tightening in my belly that has me gasping out warnings.

“Sabrina—Sabrina, I’m gonna—”

She doubles down, sucking hard on my clit, and I come with a shout, my body shaking, my thighs clamping tight around her head. Sabrina keeps licking me through it, her tongue stroking over me until I’m a boneless, panting mess beneath her.

She crawls back up my body, settling herself against my side. I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and press a lazy kiss to her temple. We lie like that for a long moment, our breathing slowly evening out, our heartbeats syncing up.

“Wow,” Sabrina breathes, her fingers tracing patterns on my stomach. “That was—”

“Yeah,” I agree, my voice rough and sated. “It really was.”

We fall silent after that, the gravity of what we’ve done settling over us like a blanket. I can feel Sabrina’s tension in the set of her shoulders, the way her fingers still against my skin.

“We should get some sleep,” I murmur, pressing another kiss to her hair. “Big day tomorrow.”

Sabrina nods, but doesn’t move. “Valentina—”

“Shh.” I reach for her hand, tangling our fingers together. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

She hesitates for a long moment before finally nodding, her body slowly relaxing against mine. “Okay.”

I lie awake long after her breathing evens out, my mind racing, my heart a tangled mess in my chest. What the hell have we done?

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the ache between my thighs—a pleasant, well-used feeling that sends a flush of heat to my cheeks. The second is the warm weight of Sabrina draped over my chest, her head pillowed on my shoulder, her arm slung across my waist.

She’s still asleep, her breathing deep and even, her face soft and unguarded in the early morning light. I allow myself a moment to just look at her—the sweep of her dark lashes against her cheeks, the freckles scattered across her nose, the way her hair falls in messy waves around her face. She looks young like this, vulnerable in a way she never allows herself to be when she’s awake.

I don’t know how long I lie there, my mind spinning in circles as I try to make sense of last night. The things we did, the things we said—they can’t be unsaid, undone. We’ve crossed a line, and I’m not sure there’s any going back from this.

Sabrina shifts against me, her eyelids fluttering open. For a moment, she looks relaxed, content—until reality comes crashing back. I see the moment it happens, the way her body tenses, her eyes flying open as she scrambles back, putting as much distance between us as the narrow bed will allow.

“Morning,” I say, my voice rough with sleep.

Sabrina flushes, her eyes darting around the room, landing anywhere but on me. “Morning,” she mumbles, tugging at the sheet to cover herself.

The awkwardness is a physical thing, thick and cloying in the air between us. I want to say something, anything, to cut through the tension, but I don’t know what. ‘Thanks for the orgasms’ seems a bit crass, all things considered.

“We should get dressed,” Sabrina says abruptly, already sliding out of bed, the sheet wrapped tight around her. “Breakfast will be ready soon, and Nonna will send out a search party if we don’t show up.”

I nod, swallowing down the urge to reach for her, to pull her back into bed and kiss the tension away. “Yeah, okay.”

We dress in silence, the only sound the rustle of fabric and the frantic pounding of my heart. I can feel Sabrina’s eyes on me as I shimmy into my jeans and pull on a clean t-shirt, but every time I look up, she glances away.

When we’re both decent, we make our way downstairs, the low murmur of voices and the smell of coffee and bacon growing stronger as we approach the kitchen.

“There you are!” Zia Maria beams when we step into the room, her hands covered in flour as she rolls out dough on the counter. “I was about to send Bruno up to get you.”

Sabrina forces a smile, her eyes darting to mine before skittering away. “Sorry, we slept in.”

“Big day yesterday,” Zia Maria says, waving a flour-dusted hand. “You earned it. Sit, sit, I’ll bring you coffee.”

We take our seats at the long farmhouse table, Sabrina careful to leave a respectable distance between us. The rest of the family is already digging into heaping plates of bacon and eggs, toast and fruit, their voices loud and cheerful as they pass dishes back and forth.

Valentina’s hand finds mine under the table, her fingers threading through mine. “You okay?” she murmurs, her thumb stroking the back of my hand.

I nod, my throat constricting. “Yeah. Just… processing.”

“Me too,” she agrees, squeezing my hand once before letting go.

I miss the contact immediately, my fingers curling into my palm to keep from reaching for her again.