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Walking into her apartment, Maya catches the faint scent of citrus dish soap. Carina must be home. Still, the place feels too quiet. She drops her bag by the door, toes off her boots, and exhales. The shift had been endless; sirens still echo somewhere behind her temples. They’d lost someone tonight, not a firefighter, not one of her own, but someone she’d tried to save. Someone she could still hear when she closed her eyes.
From the kitchen, Carina’s voice drifts out. “Amore mio, you’re home early!”
Maya doesn’t answer right away. She finds her standing at the counter, hair tied back, still in her hospital scrubs. Without thinking, she reaches for the dishrag in Carina’s hand.
“I’ve got it,” she says quietly, already wiping down the counter. “Go shower, baby. Change into something comfortable.”
Carina opens her mouth to argue but doesn’t. She recognizes this version of Maya, the one who moves fast to outrun the noise. So she nods and slips away, giving her space.
The second Carina’s gone, Maya starts moving again. Plates stacked. Glasses rinsed. Oven checked twice. Her hands won’t stop. The kitchen is spotless already; Carina had done most of it, but that doesn’t matter. Still, she scrubs, polishes, and straightens.
Then the bathroom. She tosses a towel in the dryer, lines up Carina’s favorite cream on the counter, and wets her toothbrush—then stops. It’s ridiculous. She rinses it, puts it back, and stares at her shaking hands.
“Maya.” Carina’s voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the noise in her head.
“Yeah?”
Carina stands on the bathmat, naked and dripping. Maya crosses the room before she can think, wraps her in the warm towel, then grabs another to dry her hair.
Carina catches her hands, holding them still. “Hey. Stop for a second. What’s going on?”
Maya shakes her head, already reaching for her again. “It’s fine. I just—I want to take care of you.”
Carina’s fingers close gently around her wrist. “Maya.”
That’s when Carina sees it: the tremor in Maya’s fingers, the tension coiled along her jaw. A shaky breath escapes before Maya shakes her head, eyes flicking anywhere but at her.
“I just… need to keep busy. I couldn’t save her. I should’ve—”
Carina doesn’t let her finish. She takes the towel, sets it aside, and cups Maya’s face. Her thumbs brush against her cheeks. “You did what you could, amore mio. I know you did everything you could.”
Maya’s eyes fall closed, breath shallow, chest tight. “I just need to do something. Anything.”
Carina studies her, the guilt, the restless energy humming beneath her skin. It’s the same need that drives her to fix, to clean, to keep moving before she falls apart.
“Then do something for me,” Carina murmurs.
Confusion flickers across Maya’s face. “What?”
“Come with me.” Her voice softens. She threads their fingers together and leads her to their bedroom. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
Maya hesitates. But Carina’s grip is steady, and her tone is calm and commanding. Breath trembling, Maya follows her into the dim room.
Carina turns, brushing a stray lock from her cheek. “No more cleaning, okay? No more fixing. Just this. Us.”
Maya’s lips twitch, a ghost of a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like me. I need to do something.”
Carina meets her gaze, unwavering. “No. Not tonight. Take off your clothes, bambina, and lie on your stomach.” The shift in her tone leaves no room for argument.
Maya obeys, fingers fumbling at the hem of her shirt before she pulls it over her head. The cool air hits her skin as she undresses completely. Carina retrieves a familiar bottle of massage oil, Maya’s favorite, the one that smells of coconut and fruit, like sunscreen. Maya says it reminds her of their first trip together.
“Should we put something over the covers?” Maya asks, still standing at the foot of the bed, brain spinning at a hundred miles an hour.
“Not tonight, bambina. Just lie down and let me make you feel better.”
Maya obeys, stretching out on her stomach. The mattress dips as Carina climbs on her thighs, the towel slipping to the floor. She warms the oil in her hands before she rubs them together and presses them to Maya’s skin.
The first touch is soft, testing, soothing. Each pass grows firmer as she finds the knots along Maya’s shoulders and spine, kneading them until they yield beneath her thumbs. Relief flickers through Carina; she hadn’t expected it to work so easily. Seeing the restlessness fade from Maya’s body feels like watching a storm settle.
“You’re so tight here,” she murmurs, circling the base of her neck with practiced thumbs. Her breath grazes Maya’s ear. “You’ve been holding everything inside.”
A shaky exhale breaks from Maya. “Feels like if I let go, I’ll break.”
“Then let me catch you.”
Her hands drift lower, over warm skin, along the sides of Maya’s back, down to her hips. Slow, deliberate movements. When her fingers trace the curve of her ass, a gasp catches in Maya’s throat.
“Carina—”
“Shh.” Lips ghost over her ear. “You don’t have to do anything tonight. Let me take care of you, sì?”
Maya hesitates for a second, but the amazing feeling of Carina’s hands convinces her. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
The words unlock something deep inside Maya. What’s left of her composure crumbles. Carina’s palms return to her shoulders, gliding down with slow, coaxing pressure. Each stroke draws out the tightness.
Heat pools low in Carina’s belly, a lust she chooses to ignore. Seeing Maya so calm and open under her. Allowing her hands to soothe her pain. Tonight isn’t about that. Tonight is about Maya.
Muffled apologies slip from Maya’s lips: she keeps apologizing for the life she couldn’t save. It breaks Carina’s heart. But she doesn’t say anything, just touches. Her palms move in slow strokes, reminding Maya that she’s here with her and that she’s safe.
“You don’t have to hold it all inside,” Carina whispers. “Not here. Not with me.”
A deep breath leaves Maya, the first true release of the night. Her fingers unclench, hands sinking into the sheets. Carina feels the shift.
She leans forward, resting her forehead against Maya’s shoulder blade. No words now, just warm breath on pale skin.
When Maya breaks the silence, her voice is raw and pleading: “I need you, Carina. Please. I need you. Touch me.”
The sound tugs at something deep in Carina’s chest. “How do you want me?”
“Whatever you want. Just… make me forget.”
Carina slides off her, guiding Maya onto her back. She moves between her thighs, mouth finding her core without hesitation. No buildup. No gentleness. Her tongue draws circles, rough and precise, while slick fingers—still coated in oil—press inside.
“Fuck, baby,” Maya gasps, hand tangling in her hair, urging her closer, deeper.
Carina obeys, sucking hard on the swollen bundle of nerves, fingers thrusting faster, wetter. Oil, saliva, and Maya’s arousal mix together. Maya’s moans rise, sharp and broken, building to a rhythm that fills the room.
Her orgasm hits hard, faster than Carina expects. She helps her through it. Only when Maya stops thrusting does Carina pull back, licking away every trace of her release.
A shudder ripples through Maya when Carina’s tongue brushes her clit again. Too much, too soon. And then, as she comes down from the orgasm, the ghosts and the echoes come back. The woman she couldn’t reach on the second floor. The screams. The smoke. The silence.
Her eyes blur. Carina moves instantly, wrapping an arm around her. “I’m here, love. You’re okay.”
“Nothing’s okay,” Maya breathes. Then she shakes her head, restless, chasing distraction. “I want to sit on your face. Let me ride you. Please.”
Carina freezes, a flicker of surprise before instinct takes over. This is what she promised, to take care of her, whatever that means tonight. She lies back, guiding Maya forward.
Maya straddles her, gripping the headboard as she lowers onto her mouth. Carina flattens her tongue, steady beneath her, letting Maya set the rhythm. It’s fast, raw, punishing. Maya moves harder, chasing a feeling she can’t name. But the sounds she makes aren’t pleasure. Not a real one, anyway. Carina knows. She feels it in every desperate thrust.
She presses against Maya’s thighs, freeing her mouth just enough to whisper, “Stop, bambina.”
Maya collapses beside her, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The sight cracks something open in Carina’s chest.
“Are you sure you want this?” she asks softly. “Maybe we should—”
“I just…” Maya swallows hard. “I want to feel anything other than what’s inside.”
Carina nods slowly. “Then maybe we should talk about—”
“I can’t!” Maya cuts her off, voice breaking. “I can’t, Carina! It hurts too much!” Her fists pound her chest as if trying to shake the ache loose.
Carina moves before she can think. She catches Maya’s face, pulls her in, crashes their mouths together. It’s messy, desperate. She shifts, pushing Maya back onto the mattress, straddling her. Her hands find Maya’s wrists, pinning them gently above her head, holding her there.
Carina meets her gaze, searching for permission. Maya nods, and Carina’s restraint shatters. Her mouth trails down the blonde’s throat, biting, licking, sucking as if to replace the emotional pain with something tangible. She lingers at her breasts, drawing sharp gasps with every scrape of teeth and flick of tongue. By the time she pulls back, Maya’s skin blooms red with marks.
When Carina moves lower, Maya finally stills. The storm in her eyes fades, replaced by raw sensation. The sight fuels Carina, driving her deeper into that need to make her feel anything but the guilt. She dives between Maya’s thighs again, abandoning gentleness entirely. Every touch is hungry: teeth dragging, tongue circling, fingers thrusting until Maya’s body arches off the bed. Each sound from her lips is half pleasure, half release.
When the orgasm hits, it’s violent. Her hips jerk, thighs trembling, and skin flushed. Carina stays there, panting against her, eyes dark with love and lust. Maya can see it, all of it, and something in her breaks open.
She’s not ready to let go of the bliss from her orgasm. She grabs Carina by the wrist and neck, tugging her roughly upward. “Sit on my face. Now.”
Carina doesn’t hesitate. She’s been aching for hours, slick and desperate. She straddles Maya’s face, and the first swipe of tongue has her crying out, “Oh, God, fuck, bambina!”
Maya’s relentless. Her mouth devours, tongue thrusting deep before dragging slow circles around Carina’s clit. Carina is obscenely wet, her moans loud. Movement catches her eye. Behind her, Maya’s fingers work between her own legs, thrusting in time with her tongue in Carina’s cunt.
Carina grabs her wrist, clicking her tongue softly. “Uh-uh. Mine tonight.”
She moves from Maya’s face, replacing the blonde’s fingers with her own. Sliding them inside her girlfriend as she leans forward, mouth finding Maya’s swollen core once more.
Maya lets her work for a while, the pleasure building again for the third time tonight, but it still isn’t enough. Nothing is. The ache inside her feels endless. If she doesn’t cling to Carina, she’ll drown. Lost at sea, sinking until nothing’s left. She turns, mouth finding Carina’s slick heat again, and grabs her by the thighs, guiding her back over her face.
“Fuck, Maya,” she breathes as she’s being lifted and pressed back against Maya’s mouth.
They fall into rhythm, mouths and fingers moving in tandem, the sounds raw and wet, their moans swallowed against each other’s skin. Carina’s already close, too close.
“Maya, slow down—I’m gonna—” Her warning breaks off as she redoubles her pace, fingers thrusting deep until she feels Maya clamp down hard around them.
Maya bites the inside of Carina’s thigh to muffle her cry, her release hitting hard and fast. She reaches up blindly, her thumb finding Carina’s clit, rubbing until Carina shatters too. Her vision blurring, her whole body trembling as she collapses forward.
Silence settles for a heartbeat, thick and uneven. Until Carina hears soft, broken cries. She looks over, realizing Maya’s crying. She moves around instantly and pulls Maya into her arms.
“Hey, hey… I’m here, amore mio. You’re okay.”
Maya shakes her head, tears spilling freely now. “Nothing’s okay.”
Carina hushes her, wiping the cum off her face with the edge of the sheet. “Just let it out.”
And finally, she does. The sobs come hard and ugly, ripping through her chest until she’s empty. Carina holds her through every sound, every tremor, and every scream, never loosening her hold.
Together, in the mess of it all.