“I didn’t catch that,” she said, amusement in her voice.
I turned my head. “Yes,” I said, trying not to moan and gasping in a lungful of pure unadulterated Cole.
My head spun.
“Fuck,” I breathed out.
Cole kissed my jaw and circled my clit with her thumb lightly.
“Mine,” she growled, increasing the pressure.
My hips bucked forward, again and again.
She fondled my breast.
I turned my head, searching for her lips.
She met me in a wet kiss, her tongue pushing inside my mouth with dominance, like she owned it.
She circled my clit, over and over. I was so hot. So sensitive. So wet.
I broke the kiss to gasp for air.
My abdominal muscles tightened, and I pressed my hips forward hard. My release followed, spilling over, as a spasm rippled through me.
“Oh, puppy, that was fast,” Cole mocked.
“Don’t,” I begged.
Cole laughed behind me, and I hid my face against my pillow.
She dipped her middle finger into my entrance, and I pulsed, a remnant of my recent orgasm.
“You’re so fucking wet, Harriet,” she husked and pressed deeper inside of me.
I groaned wantonly, uncaring of how loud I was. It felt good. It was all I could focus on.
A second finger joined the first. The stretch made me gasp and my breath hitch.
“Oh fuck, more,” I asked. “Please,” I begged, trying to push her further inside me.
She curled her fingers and stroked against an exquisitely tender patch.
My mouth fell open, and my hips stuttered forward. Her palm pressed against my already swollen and tender clit. I felt myself gushing, wetter.
“Can you hear how wet you are?” Cole asked while pressing that spot that seemed to be directly connected to my wetness.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Fuck, fuck—” I was silenced by a kiss, by Cole owning me.
Her hips bucked against me as she kissed me, owning my mouth and my pussy.
“You’re mine,” she said as she added a third finger.
I had never been stretched so wide.
It burned in the most delirium-inducing way.
I pushed against her, helping her pump deeper into me, matching her rhythm, my clit bumping against her palm.
