"You're so wet for me." Lou's voice was rough with arousal, her own hips rocking slightly against Camille's thigh. "So hot and wet and?—"
"Because I've been thinking about this for days." Camille's hands gripped Lou's shoulders, her nails digging into muscle as the pleasure built. "Every night. Every morning. Touching myself and pretending it was you."
Lou groaned and increased her pace, her fingers driving deeper, harder. "Show me. Show me what you did when you thought of me."
Camille's hand slid between their bodies, her fingers finding Lou's clit with practiced ease. Lou gasped and stuttered in her rhythm, her hips jerking forward into the touch.
"Like this," Camille murmured, circling Lou's clit with the same slow deliberation Lou had used on her. "I'd imagine you above me, just like this. Imagine the sounds you make when I touch you here?—"
She pressed harder, and Lou made a sound that was half-moan, half-sob, her fingers resuming their motion inside Camille with renewed urgency.
They found a rhythm together—give and take, push and pull, pleasure building in waves that crested and receded and crested higher. Lou's free hand braced against the mattress beside Camille's head, her muscles trembling with the effort of holding herself up while her hips rolled against Camille's hand.
"I'm close," Camille gasped. "Lou, I'm?—"
"Come for me." Lou's eyes met hers, those green depths blazing with love and desire and reverence. "Let me see you. Let me feel you."
The orgasm crashed through Camille like a wavebreaking on shore—sudden and overwhelming, pleasure radiating out from her center to fill every nerve ending. She cried out Lou's name, her body arching off the mattress, her inner walls clenching around Lou's fingers as the release shook through her.
Lou worked her through it, her fingers gentling but not stopping, drawing out the pleasure until Camille was trembling and oversensitive and utterly undone.
"Your turn." Camille's voice came out hoarse, wrecked. Her fingers, which had stilled during her own orgasm, resumed their motion against Lou's clit. "I want to watch you fall apart."
Lou was already close—Camille could feel it in the tension of her muscles, the quickening of her breath, the way her hips moved in desperate little circles against Camille's hand.
"Look at me," Camille commanded, and Lou's eyes flew open, meeting hers. "I want to see your face when you come."
She pressed harder, circled faster, and Lou shattered with a cry that echoed off the bedroom walls. Her whole body shook, her arms giving out so she collapsed half on top of Camille, her face buried in the curve of Camille's neck as the orgasm pulsed through her.
They lay tangled together, breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat. Camille's heart was pounding so loud she was sure Lou could hear it, could feel it where their chests pressed together.
"That was—" Lou started.
"Not enough." Camille shifted beneath her, her hands already wandering down Lou's back to cup her ass. "I want more. I want to make you come again."
Lou lifted her head, her eyes dark with renewed desire. "Camille?—"
"Lie back."
Lou rolled onto her back, and Camille followed, settling between her thighs. Her injured knee protested the position, but she ignored it—there were more important things to focus on. Like the way Lou's thighs fell open for her. Like the glistening evidence of Lou's arousal, still swollen and sensitive from her orgasm.
Camille slid two fingers inside Lou and watched her face transform—the catch of her breath, the flutter of her eyelids, the way her lips parted on a silent moan.
"Is this okay?" Camille asked, even though Lou's body was already answering for her, her hips lifting to take Camille's fingers deeper.
"More than okay." Lou's hand found Camille's where it rested on her hip. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Camille didn't stop. She set a pace that was slow at first, almost tortuously slow, letting Lou feel every thrust, every curl of her fingers. Lou's free hand fisted in the sheets, her back arching, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Touch yourself," Camille instructed. "I want to watch."
Lou's hand slid down her own body, her fingers finding her clit. Camille watched, mesmerized, as Lou circled and pressed and gasped, her internal muscles fluttering around Camille's fingers with each stroke.
"You're so beautiful like this." Camille increased her pace, matching the rhythm of Lou's fingers on her clit. "So responsive. So mine."
"Yours." Lou's voice was barely a whisper. "Camille, I'm?—"
"I know." Camille thrust harder, faster. "Come for me again. Let me feel it."
