"I don't know." The honesty felt like a gift she was giving them both. "I've never—" She broke off, unable to finish the sentence. Never wanted a woman. Never questioned who she was or who she wanted. Never felt anything close to this desperate, consuming need.
Lou's hand rose slowly, giving Camille time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn't want to. She stood frozen asLou's palm cupped her cheek, as Lou's thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, as every nerve in her body screamed for more.
"We don't have to." Lou's eyes searched hers, thumb still tracing Camille's lower lip. "Tell me this is okay. Tell me you want this. Because if you're not sure?—"
"I'm sure." Camille's voice came out steadier than she expected. "I want this. I want you."
Lou held her gaze for a beat longer. "We can stop anytime. Just say the word."
"Please." The word emerged broken and wanting. "Don't stop." Camille reached for Lou's wrist, guiding her hand from her cheek to her hip. The sensation of Lou's fingers against her bare skin was overwhelming—heat and pressure and want converging in a point of contact that left her trembling. "Please, Lou."
Lou kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't tentative or questioning. It was suppressed tension finally finding release, years of walls crumbling under the weight of desire too strong to deny. Lou's mouth claimed hers with a hunger that matched the fire burning through Camille's veins, tongue sliding past her lips in a kiss that was pure devastation.
Camille moaned into Lou's mouth, her hands finding Lou's shoulders, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together—wet skin against wet skin, curves aligning in ways that felt natural and inevitable. Lou's hands slid down Camille's sides, gripping her hips with a possessive strength that made her knees go weak.
"God." Lou broke the kiss, pressing her forehead against Camille's. Her eyes were nearly black with want. "Tell me to stop. Tell me if this isn't?—"
"Don't stop." Camille's voice was ragged, unrecognizable. "Don't you dare stop."
Lou spun her, pressing her back against the cool tile of the shower wall. The shock of cold against her heated skin made Camille gasp, but the sensation was immediately overwhelmed by Lou's mouth on her throat, by Lou's hands tracing paths of fire across her body.
This was nothing like anything Camille had experienced before. Every touch felt electric, heightened, as if her skin had been rewired specifically to register Lou's fingerprints. When Lou's palm cupped her breast, Camille cried out—the sound swallowed by the rush of water around them. When Lou's thumb circled her nipple, she arched into the touch with a desperation that should have been embarrassing but felt instead like the most honest thing she'd ever done.
Lou kissed down her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her breast. Each press of lips left a mark of heat that lingered even as she moved on. Her hands mapped Camille's body with an explorer's attention—learning the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the places that made her gasp and shudder.
"You're so beautiful." Lou's voice was rough against her skin. "I've wanted this—wanted you—since the moment I saw you."
The confession made something bloom in Camille's chest. She'd been wanted before. She'd been desired and pursued and positioned as a prize worth winning. But this felt different. Lou wasn't performing attraction. Lou was drowning in it.
"Show me." Camille pulled Lou's face up to hers, kissing her hard enough to bruise. "Show me what you want."
Lou's hand slid down Camille's stomach, pausing justabove the juncture of her thighs. Her eyes found Camille's—one last question, one final chance to retreat.
Camille answered by parting her legs.
Lou's fingers slid through slick heat, and Camille's world narrowed to a single point of sensation. She was so wet—had been wet since Lou stepped into the shower, maybe since before that—and the glide of Lou's touch was frictionless and devastating. A strangled sound escaped her throat as Lou’s fingers slid from her pussy to her clitoris, circling with a pressure that was exactly right.
"Look at me." Lou's voice was commanding, confident. Camille's eyes flew open, meeting green that burned with reflected want. "I want to see you coming apart for me.”
She didn't look away. Couldn't look away. Lou's green gaze held her as surely as her touch, and Camille felt exposed in ways that went beyond the physical nakedness of the moment. Lou was seeing everything—the hunger she'd never acknowledged, the desire she'd never understood, the truth of who she was beneath all the layers of performance.
Camille gasped as she felt Lou’s fingers slide lower through her wetness and press inside her.
Camille's back arched off the tile, a moan ripping from her throat that echoed off the shower walls. The sensation was overwhelming—the stretch and fullness of Lou's fingers hooked inside her, the heel of her palm pressing against Camille's clit, the hot water crashing down over both their bodies, the relentless rhythm that built with each stroke.
"That's it." Lou's voice was gravel and velvet, praise and encouragement. "God, you feel incredible. You are so fucking wet for me?—”
The words pushed Camille higher, sensation spiraling toward something she could feel approaching like a storm front. Lou's free hand gripped her hip, pinning her againstthe wall while her other hand worked with devastating precision. Lou’s fingers were fucking her faster. Harder. Fucking her in a way she had never felt before as she held her gaze insistently. Each thrust was accompanied by pressure against her clit that made stars burst behind her eyes.
"Lou—" Camille's voice broke on the name. "I'm going to?—"
"I know." Lou's mouth found hers, swallowing the cry as Camille shattered.
The orgasm crashed through her in waves—pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, sensation so acute she couldn't tell where her body ended and Lou's began. She clung to Lou's shoulders as it washed over her, trembling and gasping and completely undone.
“Good girl…. good girl… come for me…”
