Frowning, I take in the sight of my own naked body. Twist, turning to look over my shoulder. The black lines feel like they’re everywhere. And yet… I still seemebehind them.
It helps. Turning back, I blow out a breath. Debate putting on some music. Maybe lighting a candle.
My hands brush over my neck first. Lower, tracing my skin. I avoid the urge to follow my scars, focusing on the gaps instead.
And there are… plenty of them, I realize. Plenty of gaps of golden skin. Maybe even enough for my own mating bonds. For their bites. I can almost see it as my hands trail across. Where they fit. Almost perfectly.
Lower. My hands sweep lower, rubbing across my stomach in soft circles. My breathing huffs, quickening a little.
My thumb slips, brushing against the red curls at the apex of my thighs. My face feels as though it’s on fire. Take your time. Don’t rush.
I wait until the feeling of warmth. Grows. Spreads. Until a tingle has me shifting in place, biting on my lip.
My reflection looks flushed. But my lips part as I push my fingers down, spearing through curls.
And I think about…them.About how their hands would feel. They’re so much bigger than mine. Rougher.
My eyes turn hazy as I trace the dampness. Follow it, testing my own wetness and spreading myself.
Oh. This – this is—
My legs wobble as I run a careful finger over the hood of my clit. Rub at it in small, soft circles. A little harder, until my hips shift restlessly.
More.
I take a step back. Another, until the bed hits the back of my thighs. I scramble back, laying my head on the pillow and letting my legs fall open.
I can move more, this way. Pump my hips, as my scent fills the air around me. But it smells…richer than usual. Deeper, and a low purr sounds in my throat as my hands move.
This is fun.
My head tips back, and I let the noises out. My soft, panting sounds – they only push me harder, every bit of me tingling as something draws closer.
So. Close.
I close my eyes. Imaginedifferenthands in place of my own. My other hand reaches for my breasts, playing with my nipples, little shocks of sensitivity as I squirm on the bed.
My eyes fly open as I gasp. My body clenches, my back bowing. And warmth soaks my fingers as fireworkstake offbetween my legs, popping and bursting like sparks in my line of sight. My hoarse cry spills out.
I flop back into the bedding, gasping into the scent-soaked bedroom.
Holy. Shit.
Wow.
***
My cheeks feel like they’re on fire as I pad down the stairs.
They’re not going toknow. My bedroom window is wide open, my hands scrubbed and cleaned, new underwear in place.
Hello, slick city.
Of course they’re not going to know. I’ve almost persuaded myself as I hit the bottom of the stairs.
Four faces turn to me as I step into the living room.
Four, very strained,very-obviously-trying-to-hide-their-feelingsfaces.
