“No more games,” I promise.
And those words seal the deal.
I sink to my knees, tracing a path down her body with my mouth. Her skin is warm, smooth. I hear her breath hitching as I kiss her hips, her thighs. She’s trembling, ready, but I take my time, letting my breath whisper over her hot flesh.
Her hands thread through my hair, not guiding, just holding. I nuzzle her soft thatch of curls, inhaling her scent. And then I lift one of her legs, hooking it over my shoulder. She leans back, bracing herself on the wall behind her. I can feel the tension in her thigh, the quiver of muscles as she opens herself to me.
She’s already wet, her pussy glistening. I can’t resist, can’t hold back. My tongue flicks against her, tasting her sweetness. Her grip tightens in my hair, and she lets out a soft moan as I tease her with long, slow strokes, enjoying her soft sighs and breathy whimpers.
“Eva…” Her voice is a low murmur.
I smile against her and increase the pressure, flicking her swollen clit with the tip of my tongue. Her hips buck, and I grab her ass with both hands, holding her in place while I lick and suck and nibble until her legs are shaking and her breath is coming in ragged gasps.
It doesn’t take all that long. I’ve learned her body, learned how to drive her wild. Within minutes, she’s whimpering and trembling and coming against my mouth, her whole body quivering withthe force of her orgasm. I ease back and she looks down at me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed.
It’s a sight I could get used to.
When her orgasm has faded, I slide her leg from my shoulder and rise, pressing her against the wall and kissing her hard, let her taste herself on my lips, her tongue seeking more. I cup her face with one hand, tracing the lines of her throat and collarbones with the other. She shivers at the touch, goosebumps rising on her skin.
“Your turn,” she says firmly.
I take her hand and lead her not to the bed, but to the chaise longue in the corner, sinking down onto the cushions and spreading my legs in invitation.
She sinks down at the end of it and leans down, her hair falling around her face in a cascade of red-gold. I reach up and tuck a strand behind her ear, trailing my fingers along her jaw, and she smiles. It’s a soft, sweet smile, full of tenderness.
Her tongue touches me softly, a tentative exploration. My hips lift, chasing her touch, and I put a hand on the back of her head. “Good girl,” I murmur as her tongue flickers against me with more confidence, finding my clit and circling it slowly.
The pleasure is delicious, a slow burn. I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the sensation. Robin takes her time, exploring every fold and crevice with her mouth. She sucks and licks, finding her way, testing out different rhythms and patterns.
When I look down, her blue eyes are fixed on mine, watching my reactions, learning what I like. It’s intoxicating, this focus, this intensity.
“That’s good,” I encourage her, stroking her hair. “Keep going.”
Her breath hitches at the command, and she presses harder, sucking my clit into her mouth and sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I buck against her, grinding my hips, needing more, more, more.
“Fuck,” I gasp out, pushing her face harder against me. “Oh, yes. Like that. Don’t stop.”
Robin moans, a low sound of desire, and the vibration pushes me even closer to the edge. Her tongue moves faster, and her hands are on my thighs, keeping me spread wide open for her.
The heat builds and builds, and I’m right there, right on the edge, and then Robin slides two fingers inside me and curls them, and the sudden fullness sends me over the edge. I come with a strangled cry, my hips jerking, my pussy pulsing around her fingers.
Robin keeps licking and sucking until the sensation is too much and I push her head gently away. She sits back on her heels, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “You’re welcome.”
I let out a breathless laugh, feeling giddy and boneless and entirely unlike myself. “Get up here,” I say, tugging her by the arms.
She climbs onto the chaise longue beside me and snuggles up to my side, her head resting on my shoulder. The contact is comfortably intimate, and I find myself relaxing into it, wrapping an arm around her and enjoying the feel of her soft body pressed against mine.
And then we just lie there, our breathing slowly returning to normal.
Outside, the wind picks up, rattling the ancient windows. Another storm coming. I can feel it in the air, in the way it seems to press closer. But here, in this bed with Robin warm and safe in my arms, the approaching tempest feels like someone else’s problem.
For now, this moment is enough: the steady rhythm of Robin’s breathing and the delicate warmth spreading through my chest.
Robin is mine. And I am hers.
For the time being.
Chapter 17
