With her free hand, Vivian made a fist in Bryn’s hair. Bryn cursed, dropping her lower body to the mattress. She watched as Bryn surrendered. Her smooth back glistening with sweat while Vivian held a fistful of damp hair was hypnotizing.
Vivian didn’t slow her excruciating pace. Thrusting into Bryn over and over, she held her right at the edge until neither of them could stand another moment of delay.
“Watch me while I fuck you,” Vivian panted, chest burning and body on fire. She pulled Bryn’s hair, snapping her head back and catching her ruined expression in the mirror.
“Fuck, Vivian,” Bryn cried, thighs trembling like they might not hold her up.
The mistake was apparent the moment they made eye contact in the mirror. The second Vivian saw the absolute trust reflected back at her. Bryn’s unveiled trust. Her own.
“When I let you come,” Vivian’s voice quivered more than she’d like, “say thank you.”
Bryn stopped throwing her weight back into Vivian. She shifted, grinding hard into the pillow and making Vivian lose her spot. It didn’t matter. In seconds, Bryn was clenching around her and it was all Vivian could do to stay inside her and keep her grip on her hair.
She felt the flood of arousal a moment before Bryn managed a nearly soundless, “Thank you,” before collapsing.
Vivian dropped next to her in an out-of-body daze.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
“We should actually sleep tonight,”Vivian said after glancing at the clock on the nightstand.
“Sleep is overrated.” Bryn hooked her arms and legs around her in open disagreement. “This is much better.”
Vivian chuckled, caressing Bryn’s back still slick with perspiration. “When you hit your forties, you’ll understand. Sleep is critical for brain?—”
“Okay, WebMD,” Bryn teased.
“And, the awards are tomorrow”—she looked at the clock again—“tonight. You have no idea how long and uncomfortable and draining these things are. There’s never enough food. Going to the bathroom in a gown is such a pain in the ass you’ll stop drinking water?—”
Bryn laughed. “You think I’m wearing a dress?” She traced the freckles on Vivian’s forearm and shifted so that her head was resting completely on Vivian’s shoulder.
Damn it, why did it have to feel so good?
“I have a very cool vintage tux I thrifted and one of my roommates altered. No shape wear. I can pee to my little heart’s content.”
Vivian’s chuckle highlighted her sore throat. She’d never been particularly loud during sex, but Bryn made her want to talk. Made her want to match her filthy verbal skills. To make her feel what she made Vivian feel.
Luckily, she’d get plenty of vocal rest when she got home. Unsure of what to expect after this trip, she’d built in an extra week off into her schedule. Alone, she’d have little occasion to talk her throat raw.
“Unlimited bathroom trips notwithstanding, we still need to sleep. It’s going to be a long day.”
Bryn made no effort to get up. It was on Vivian to be the first to move.
Move!her head screamed at her body, but nothing budged.
“Okay,” Bryn agreed. “So let’s sleep.” She rested her chin on Vivian’s chest and looked up at her with eyes so open they were hard to look at. “Unless you meant you wanted to sleep alone?”
Of course it was what she’d meant. Sleeping was a solitary exercise. No one rested well with another person next to them. Moving and snoring and muttering weird fragments of nonsense all night.
And to say nothing of the body heat. Vivian was tap-dancing her way right into perimenopause. The last thing she needed was a human furnace glommed onto her side. They weren’t teenagers giggling together at a slumber party. They were grown women; space was nonnegotiable.
But the longer she stared at Bryn, the harder it was to formulate any of those objections. Bryn and her heartbreaking eyes. How could she disappoint her? How could she tell her that she could share her body but not her bed?
“No,” Vivian said, but she didn’t know where the truth was. “That’s not what I meant.”
Bryn’s smile was a sledgehammer to Vivian’s sternum. It was cracking bones and more unbearable tenderness.
“Then let’s pee,” she said with blinding cheer. “A UTI will really put a damper on these awards you already hate.”
