Almost as if the cold had snapped some sense into me, I realised I was bored with this bullshit. “Because I can’t bear to watch you and Jeremy act like a loved-up couple. Because I felt sick listening to the Daltons fawn over youlike you’re Jeremy’s girlfriend.” The words spewed out of me, and the release felt good, like lancing a boil. “Can’t you see what it looks like?”
Francesca poked her tongue into her cheek. “Fuck Jeremy,” she said in a low growl.
“Have you? Have you fucked Jeremy?”
“That shade of green is very unbecoming on you, Catherine.” She laughed, and I wanted to launch myself at her. I wanted to slap her smug face and kiss her at the same time.
She was confusing, and this was exhausting.
I slumped onto the sofa and stared into the fireplace as a burst of embers crackled from a blackened log. Francesca removed her coat and crossed the room. She perched next to me and placed a warm hand on my knee, then spoke softly, her voice coaxing, like she was luring prey.
“It’s all theatrics. I’m just having fun.”
“Well, it’s not fun for me. I wasn’t acting. I thought this was real.”
Francesca moved a finger between us. “This…is…real,” she said, each word deliberate.
Tears sprang from my eyes again, and the next thing I knew, I was sobbing into her lap. She wrapped her arms around me and rocked me slightly. A long moment passed before she spoke again.
“You’re freezing. I think we need to get you out of these wet clothes.”
I looked up at her, aware that my face would be a messy fright, but she cupped my cheeks and gently rubbed the smeared makeup from under my eyes with herthumbs. I met her gaze, and she bent, covering my mouth with her own. Her tongue pushed past my flimsy defences, past all the red flags and barbed words, until I was disarmed and lying on my back.
She hitched up her dress and knelt above me, unbuttoning my wet shirt and peeling it from my damp skin before casting it across the room. She kissed my neck, her breath hot as she traced her tongue along my collarbone. As I arched up, offering myself for her to consume, my eyes flicked to the door.
“My Dad will be home?—”
“Where’s your bedroom?”
Our mouths fused together, hot, wet and hungry, as we crossed the room in a tangle of limbs. Behind my closed bedroom door, she turned her back to me, peering over her shoulder with an incendiary stare.
“Unzip me,” she murmured.
I swept aside her hair and slowly lowered the zip of her dress, revealing the porcelain flesh of her back. I ghosted my fingers over her skin, almost afraid to touch her, but I needed to know this was real, that she was really here, and we were really about to do this… again.
She turned, dark eyes on me as the material fell from her shoulders and slipped down her body. She stepped out of the dress, now pooled at her ankles, and moved towards my bed, catching my wrist and pulling me with her.
She knelt before me and unbuttoned my fly. I released a gasp full of want as she roughly tugged down my trousers and underwear. I didn’t have time to be embarrassed or unsure, because after a quick glance up shegripped my arse and pulled me into her mouth. I released a guttural groan as she plunged her hot tongue into my wetness. Instinctively, I reached for her head, bunching fistfuls of her hair in my hands as the sensation of her tongue sent pleasure rippling through my core. Each movement was a desperate, primal response, a need to hold on, to deepen the connection, to drown in the overwhelming tide of desire crashing over me.
“That’s it, fuck my face like a good girl,” she panted, moaning as she dived into me. My hips bucked, seeking more pressure until she was right on the spot, flicking the tip of her tongue and sucking my…
“Oh, fuck,” I gasped. Francesca continued to lap, holding firm arms around me as my orgasm pulsed and turned my legs to jelly. She gripped my hands and got to her feet.
“Feel better now?” she grinned, the slick of me glistening on her lips.
“What are you doing to me?” I threaded our fingers together.
“I do believe they call that cunnilingus. Want to try it?” Her lip hitched in a half-smile.
“I want to try everything with you.”
“Good,” she purred and pulled me down onto the bed.
Beneath the covers, she twisted around until she was straddling one of my thighs, and as we kissed, I moved my hand, reaching between us and daring to touch her through the barrier of her silky underwear. She moaned into my mouth and reached her own hand down to tug her knickers aside.
I paused, hesitating. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to touch her; I just didn’t want to get it wrong. She pulled back to look at me, confusion etched on her face.
“What are you waiting for? I want to feel you inside me.”
