“Pinch yourself again and I will. Harder this time.”
Squeezing, Poppy pinched until it hurt and then a little harder because Rosaline had told her to and even though she couldn’t see her right now, Poppy really, really wanted to be good. A bolt of pleasure shot from her chest to her core, her pussy clenching. A tiny cry fell off her tongue and Rosaline swore softly.
“I grabbed my vibrator within seconds of getting that photo. I’ve had it on practically this entire time,” she said, panting just a little. “Wishing it was your mouth on me.”
Between her thighs, she was already soaked. She rubbed her legs together, trying to get even a little friction. A groan of frustration tumbled off her tongue.
“You like the idea of that, huh? Maybe me putting you on your knees? Shoving your face against me? Ordering you to get me off?”
Iron and salt exploded on her tongue from how hard she bit her lip. “Can I touch myself?”
“I don’t know,” Rosaline laughed. “Can you?”
Bitch.Poppy loved it. “MayI touch myself?”
“Ask me nicely.”
Poppy squeezed her eyes shut. “Please.”
At this rate, Rosaline was going to have come twice before Poppy came at all and—she really didn’t hate that.
“Are you still wearing those panties?”
“Yeah.”
“Keep them on. Spread your legs and tug them to the side.”
Parting her legs, Poppy pulled her underwear to the side. The cotton blend bit into the inside of her thigh from the stretch, and she shivered, the air from the fan cool against where she was soaked.
“I know you said you like slow, but I have something different in mind right now.” Rosaline’s voice was strained like she was close. “I want you to fuck yourself, Poppy. Three fingers. Pretend they’re mine. I wouldn’t be gentle.”
Poppy dropped her hand between her thighs and—god,she was drenched, arousal seeping from her. Even though she was touching herself, she still inhaled sharply when her fingers slipped inside, then stole in a deep breath, bracing herself before following Rosaline’s instructions, fucking herself hard, curling her fingers the way Rosaline had. Her back arched and biting her lip couldn’t even stop the noises clawing up her throat from slipping out.
“Talk to me,” Rosaline demanded. “What was it you said the other night?I’m going to need you to be really explicit?Paint a picture for me. Do you always get as wet as you did with me, or has it just been a while? Or was it me?”
Her next gasp came out as a cry. “That’s too many questions.”
Rosaline’s laugh was thready and it made Poppy clench. “I guess you don’t really have to answer. I must be on speaker because I can hear how wet you are.” The slick sounds coming frombetween her thighs filled the room, making her flush hotter than she was already, a mottled blush creeping down her chest all the way to her belly button. “Close already?”
She was, rapidly approaching her peak at breakneck speed. “Uh-huh.”
“Stop.” Rosaline exhaled shakily. “Keep those fingers buried in your cunt but stop moving.”
A cry of frustration escaped her. “God,I hate you.”
“I want to hear you when you come,” Rosaline panted. “And—fuck, seeing asI’mabout to come, I don’t want to miss anything.”
Her mouth dropped open. Maybe Poppy hated her a little less, alotless when she cried out, Poppy’s name on her lips. Poppy’s eyes scrunched and her back bowed a little, pussy pulsing around her fingers, not coming but so,sofucking close, the sound of Rosaline getting off nearly nudging her over the edge.
Rosaline’s soft pants filled the room and a barely-there buzz Poppy hadn’t noticed until it was missing disappeared. Her muscles ached from clenching, holding still and holding off at that edge she wasn’t allowed to topple over.
“Go on.” Rosaline laughed lightly, still breathless, and it straddled the line between the hottest and most beautiful sound Poppy had ever heard. Maybe Poppy hadn’t touched her, but it still felt like she’d had a hand in making Rosaline feel good and that was almost better than coming. “I want to hear you.”
She closed her eyes and imagined it was Rosaline touching her, the way she would if she were here, the way she said she would,fuckingher and not gentle, either. Deep and fast, fingers curling hard, pressing, and it was like Poppy’s body recognized the earlier interruption had been apauseand not astop, because she was there. Pressure built in her core, swelling, walls grippingher fingers tight. At once, she snapped, all that pressure releasing rhythmically as her vision whited out.
Her throat felt raw, ragged from whatever noises she was making but couldn’t hear over the sound of her pulse thundering inside her head.
“Holy fuck,” Rosaline whispered in that near reverent way she had once before, and Poppy sank back into the sheets with a broken laugh.
