Janelle doesn't wait anymore. Her mouth crashes into Mirabel's like a secret finally screaming to be known. Desperate, rough, messy — their lips bruise as if they're punishing each other for every year wasted, every moan held back, every "I miss you" swallowed in pride.
Mirabel pushes her back against the desk, her hands trembling but greedy. "I don't care if you hate me tomorrow," she growls against her lips. "Just give me tonight."
Janelle's voice breaks, "Take it. Take all of me."
Clothes fall off like regrets, like lies — flung around the office, thrown to the floor where their past already lies in pieces.
Mirabel climbs on top of her, legs straddling Janelle's waist on the desk, and kisses her again—slow this time. Tender. Painfully so. A kiss that says I still love you, even if her body screams something darker.
Her fingers trail down Janelle's throat, her chest, lower… until her hand finds that warmth she once owned. And when her fingers slip inside her, she gasps like she's been gone too long from home.
"You're still mine," Mirabel whispers, mouth brushing Janelle's ear as her hand moves with ruthless tenderness. "Say it."
"I was always yours," Janelle moans, her back arching, thighs trembling, hands digging into Mirabel's hips.
Mirabel lowers her mouth to Janelle's chest, biting, sucking, marking her. "You let her touch you… you let them all touch you—but none of them fuck you like I do."
Janelle's breath is broken sobs of pleasure now, hands tangling in Mirabel's hair, pulling her closer. "Nobody ever did… Mirabel… please—"
"Please what?" she growls, curling her fingers deeper, harder. "Beg me."
"Please don't stop—please don't leave again—please…"
Their bodies collide like thunder, wet, hot, shuddering. The room fills with the sounds of need being fed and love being screamed through every moan. Desk shaking. Papers falling. Her name gasped over and over like a broken prayer.
And when Janelle finally comes, she cries—because the pleasure is too much, and so is the pain of still wanting someone who can destroy you with a kiss.
Mirabel holds her tightly after. No words. Just breath and sweat and silence thick with everything unsaid.
And when Janelle finally opens her mouth again, voice raw and quiet, she says:
"Don't make this goodbye."
Mirabel kisses her forehead, trembling.
"…I won't."
---
To be continued