“No, you did not,” Heaven murmurs, her breath ghosting the back of my neck.
I grip the edge of the counter. Hard.
Heaven puts her foot between my legs, nudging me to separate them as she slips her hand between my thighs.
Iris continues, completely unaware. “Well, whatever it was, the fire alarm went off and your brother screamed louder than the alarm.”
I snort at that, barely able to hold it together while Heaven’s hand slides back up, higher this time. She does it so casually.
Heaven’s fingers softly press into the curve of my hip. “And he cried.”
“Heaven!” Iris shouts through the phone.
I burst out laughing, half because of the story and half because Heaven is literally behind me making my entire body forget how to function.
Iris is still talking when Heaven’s arms slide around me from behind, and her short curls tickle my neck as she presses that innocent doll-face to the spot just below my ear.
“Keep talking,” she whispers, and then two fingers spear into me so deep my vision whites out.
I choke on air. Heaven starts finger-fucking me like she is trying to ruin me for anyone else. The wet sound is obscene, loud enough that I am terrified Iris will hear, but the storm swallows most of it.
“You okay, Sutton?” Iris asks, suspicious.
Heaven curls her fingers hard, grinding against my front wall, and I almost drop the phone. On FaceTime, Iris can only see my face. I am trying so hard to keep it stone-like, smiling hard.
My thighs shake against hers. Her thumb finds my clit and pinches. I am going to come again. Already.
Then she stops, going to the cabinet nearby, only to come back, reaching over to the camera button and turning it off in one quick motion.
I sob into the hand she clamps over my mouth, hips chasing nothing. That is when I feel a thick item near my center. Looking back at her, she gives me a devilish grin. I look down to find the candy cane covered with a condom, thick and ridged. She drags it through my folds slowly, coating every stripe in my slick until it disappears in my pussy.
“Look at you dripping all over Christmas,” she murmurs, low in my ear.
She pushes it in, slow, relentless. The hooked end seats deep, stretching me wide, peppermint stinging deliciously against raw nerves. My back arches hard as I take every inch. Heaven twists it, grinding the curve right into my g-spot, and my eyes roll back.
Iris keeps talking. I cannot hear a word.
Heaven grabs the phone and lays it beside the sink. Then she starts fucking me with the candy cane, long, filthy strokes that make my pussy gush around the sugar. Each ridge drags over my walls until I am shaking so hard, it feels like I am about to leave my body.
“Tell her you are busy,” Heaven purrs.
“Iris, I, fuck?—”
Heaven slams the candy cane deep and holds it, rolling it in tight circles while her other hand pinches my clit hard. The orgasm rips through me like lightning. I come screaming into her palm, squirting so hard it splashes the cabinets, my thighs, the floor. My pussy spasms around the thick shaft, milking it, trying to pull it deeper.
Heaven eases it out slowly. It is glazed thick and white, dripping with me. She removes the condom and brings the candy cane to her full lips, licks a long stripe up the shaft, and moans like it is the best thing she has ever tasted.
I can hear Iris muttering, “What is going on?”
“Nothing,” I say.
Heaven leans down, lips close to my ear. “Are you having fun?”
My breath stutters. “I—yeah. Iris is hilarious.”
“Good,” Heaven whispers. “Finish your call.”
She gives my hip one last slow stroke before pulling away. I swallow hard, trying not to melt right there in the middle of her kitchen.
