That.Want turned to need and Poppy threw out a hand, clutching Rosaline’s thigh. “Can I come?”
“I don’t know.” Rosaline smiled against Poppy’s neck. “Canyou?”
Just like that, the hand between her legs stilled and Poppy bit down hard on the side of her tongue, choking on a stifled sob.
Rosaline gave a throaty chuckle followed by a lazy thrust of her fingers, keeping Poppy hovering right there on the edge, her whole body thrumming like a live wire, close but not close enough. “You’re desperate now, sure. But I wonder... just how desperate can you get?”
This... this was either going to be the best thing that ever happened to Poppy, or it was going to kill her. Maybe both, but there’d be no in-between.
“Please,”she tried, knowing that had worked like a magic word once before.
Rosaline slipped her fingers from Poppy’s cunt, making her whimper at the loss, her legs shaking and hands clenching, squirming in Rosaline’s lap. “Hm, no. Not yet.”
“Rosaline,”Poppy whined high in the back of her throat, earning another of those soft—evil—chuckles.
“You’ll come when I want you to come,” she said, circling Poppy’s clit with a featherlight touch. “You want to know why?”
“Tell me,” she begged. Whatever hoop Rosaline wanted Poppy to jump through before she’d let her come, Poppy would eagerly hurl herself through it.
“Because right now?” Her fingers slipped through Poppy’s wetness, three pressing inside, the unexpected stretch so good Poppy keened. “When we do this?” Rosaline sank her teeth into the side of Poppy’s neck and sucked, no doubt leaving a mark, a bruise that Poppy could press in the morning, a tender reminder of this feverdream of a night. “When we do this, for however long we do this, you’re mine, Poppy.”
Poppy was past the point of speech; all she could do was steal greedy, gasping gulps of air as Rosaline dragged the pads of her fingers against the front wall of Poppy’s cunt as if with a single-minded purpose—to make Poppy lose her goddamn head.
Mine.
She had never belonged to anyone before. Not in any way that counted. Even if it was only temporary, only for a short while, and even if it wasn’texactlyhow Poppy wanted to belong to someone—and wanted someone to belong to her in kind—something inside her swelled, bright, and hot, and hungry. And it had nothing to do with the brink Rosaline was nudging her toward with each relentless stroke of her fingers.
“Poppy?” From the way Rosaline said it, this wasn’t the first time she’d called her name, Poppy too lost inside candy-coated thoughts to hear it.
“Mm?”
“Are you?” Rosaline tugged on Poppy’s earlobe with her teeth. “Are you mine?”
Poppy nodded so fast her head spun.“Yes.”
Rosaline released a ragged breath and pressed a kiss against the bare skin where Poppy’s sleep shirt had slipped, the place where her shoulder met her neck. Shockingly sweet when her fingers were making filthy slick noises between Poppy’s thighs. “Good girl.”
Time stopped.
For a moment she didn’t even breathe, could’ve sworn her heart quit beating. Even her thoughts went silent, her head filled with static, perfect pink noise roaring in her ears. She shivered underthe praise and—that whine came fromherthroat as she arched, writhing against Rosaline’s hand.
She was so fucking close. If Rosaline just pressed a bit harder, a little more—
The heel of her hand ground against Poppy’s clit, snatching the breath from her lungs and sending her into orbit. Her lids slammed shut, muscles clenching around Rosaline’s fingers as she shattered.
“That’s it. I’ve got you.” Rosaline worked her fingers harder, faster and—it was too good, pleasure so sharp it almost hurt.Almost.She jerked, blunt nails digging into the leather covering Rosaline’s knee, a whimper verging on a sob escaping her lips as she shook so hard her foot almost hit the coffee table. Rosaline shushed her softly. “You’re so fucking pretty when you come, I—” Rosaline swore under her breath and her teeth dug into Poppy’s neck.
She soundedwrecked, her voice hoarse and hushed. Nearly reverent.
But that could’ve just been her imagining things. A delusion brought on by all the oxytocin racing through her veins, turning her brain to postorgasmic mush.
After a moment, Rosaline’s fingers slowed before stopping altogether. Still inside Poppy, but not making any moves as if to prolong the pleasure, just keeping her full in a way that Poppy wasn’t used to after sex but definitely appreciated. Normally after she hooked up with someone,thiswasn’t on the menu. Maybe a few seconds of postcoital cuddling happened while everyone caught their breath, but as soon as the sweat started to cool? Someone would roll out of bed or pull away, righting their clothes or making a beeline for the bathroom.
Nine times out of ten, that someone wasn’t Poppy.
Rosaline had lowered her arm, a pleasant weight around Poppy’s waist, her hand practically a brand against Poppy’s sweat-slick skin. Silence stretched between them, fractured only by the sound of their breathing, but unlike most silences, this one didn’t make Poppy’s skin crawl with an unbridled itch to fill it.
Time passed, how much she couldn’t be certain, Poppy floating, brain blank. Thoughts pleasantly quiet, her focus zeroed in on the way Rosaline’s pinky swept a soothing arc just above Poppy’s hip. Almost hypnotic, grounding in a way that she didn’t entirely understand but wasn’t about to question.
