The third slap was absolution. No punishment but release. Forgiveness. Wasn’t this what she had been seeking? For losing control? Now and years ago? If she wasn’t so far gone, Rhiannon would find it unhealthy. Unhealthy yet symbolic. And she couldn’t muster a sliver of care.
Her skin burned, her breath was ragged, she was certain her lip was bleeding. She probably looked a sight. Rhiannon didn’t give a damn. This was bliss. This was all she had wanted, seemingly forever. And then from the corner of her eye she saw Prudence kneeling and lost all ability to reason.
Prudence’s lips gently caressed the still burning cheek, soothing, absolving, forgiving. For what, she didn’t think Prudence herself knew. Surely Rhiannon had sins aplenty. She was Rhiannon Crowhart, after all—sin was with her since the day she was born, but Prudence had no way of knowing… No way of unlocking her like this… Exposing all her faults… But somehow that mouth on her, kissing, soothing, was erasing them all one by one.
Rhiannon knew she had never experienced anything as erotic, and then Prudence moved the drenched lace aside and ran her finger from clit to her opening before spreading Rhiannon’s legs wider from behind and settling between them.
Rhiannon held her breath. When Pru’s tongue delved into her, no preambles, no preparation, no warning this time, just lapping her essence from the source, making those indecent noises as if she was sampling something delectable.
“Mmmm, Rhiannon… So sweet. So good.”
She clenched around nothing and almost screamed. If only she could have something… Something…
But Pru gave her nothing, just kept licking, kept lapping at her opening, all the while fondling her cheeks, squeezing, caressing. She laid her face on the cool marble of the countertop and squeezed her eyes harder. She’d not survive this. She wouldn’t…
Strong hands turned her around, back against the counter, and the sight of Prudence on her knees in front of her yet somehow not subdued, not submitting but taking charge, being so thoroughly in control, Rhiannon might’ve been the one kneeling.
Prudence’s smile was all indulgence. She licked her lip and Rhiannon felt the gesture in her core. She knew what was coming. Or who…
Pru leaned in, nosing in the hair at the apex of Rhiannon’s thighs, and inhaled. Rhiannon’s knees, already carrying the impossible load, buckled. Pru laughed and pinned her to the counter, holding her up. And then she devoured.
Pru’s lips wrapped around her clit even as what felt like two fingers pierced her opening, and Rhiannon screamed.
It was feral, but the sensations were too much, and she bit her forearm to try to keep herself quiet.
“I think the whole of Crow’s Nest knows what is being done to you right now, Rhiannon. Everyone knows how well you’re being fucked. And you are. Look at you drip down my hand. So sweet, so good, so beautiful. Drenched for me.”
Rhiannon felt Pru kiss her thigh, wet mouth leaving a trail. Pru’s fingers pumped in and out at a steady pace, periodically hooking upward, touching her at her very center, teasing her. She breathed through her nose, her own teeth leaving bruises on her skin.
“I watched you take down Lisa and I wanted to fuck you right there, as you stood and manhandled her like she was nothing and you were a queen. And she was. Nothing. And you are. A queen. You taste like one. Do you know?” As if to emphasize her own words, Prudence’s mouth returned to her clit and sucked hard. Rhiannon’s vision wavered at the corners and yet Prudence went on as she once again nuzzled her thigh, fingers moving faster now, the strokes becoming harder, each one aiming for the one spot that was driving Rhiannon closer to the edge.
“You should know. You taste amazing, rich and sweet and tangy and fresh, like the wind. Every note is different. I can’t get enough of you.”
Rhiannon hissed. Pru had done and said everything right… Until now. She felt herself grow rigid, grow distracted.
A smack came out of nowhere, and she keened, feeling herself drench Pru’s hand. How did she know? Oh, Goddess how did she know? How did she know all her desires, all her fantasies?
Pru bit her thigh not too gently.
“You will take what I give you tonight, Rhiannon. It’s only your own fault, after all. Beautiful and regal, taking down someone twice your size, defending me. I wanted to take you apart then and there. I wouldn’t even care who was watching. You were everything.”
Rhiannon felt her tears spill as Pru’s lips wrapped around her clit once again with purpose, and within seconds she was coming, wordless, soundless.
She returned back to herself, to the feeling of Pru’s hands touching her, caressing her, cleaning her up. Soft washcloth, softer kisses, kinder words.
Rhiannon did not straighten. She had no idea how she’d face this woman who looked like a church mouse in those oversizedcardigans of hers, whose wild, rebellious flyaways framed a face that belonged on a Botticelli painting and who fucked like her life depended on it. As if she was born to make Rhiannon come apart only to be built back together by skilled hands and gentle mouth. A mouth that couldn’t utter a swear word in the light of day, that said “heck” in the most adorable of ways and stumbled over anything spicier, and who apparently was exceedingly and masterfully fluent in dirty talk. Just remembering the words made Rhiannon want to bite her lip and taste them.
Rhiannon shivered, then exhaled. She’d allow herself a few more seconds before she faced the reality that she had no idea who Prudence Fowler was.
Except even now the woman kept surprising her, because as she set Rhiannon’s clothes to rights and put a glass of water and a pack of wet wipes next to her, Prudence was gone, the sound of the door closing behind her all the warning Rhiannon got of being left alone. That and a quietly murmured, “Thank you, Rhiannon.”
Polite and distant. Like the woman in the bookstore’s window who watched her for weeks. And so unlike the one who fucked the living daylights out of her. Who was Prudence Fowler? And why would she flee her own home after an encounter like that? What had Rhiannon gotten herself into?
Those were, of course, valid questions, but Rhiannon had a more pressing one that not even the haze of an amazing orgasm could erase. And she needed her sister, of all people, to answer it for her.
She parkedher car on the shoulder of the empty road and took a deep breath. She needed many of these breaths to face her sisterand to have the conversation she was about to have. So she took her time and counted to ten as her phone lit up in her hand.
“The handwriting is familiar, I’m looking into some things, kiddo. Everything will come up spades, you’ll see.”
