Rhiannon did not rush. The skirt was taken off, not simply lifted. Her stockings rolled down one by one, and kisses followed the paths of Rhiannon’s fingers yet again. And then that generous mouth went to work, backtracking its own path. Rhiannon kissed her instep, her ankle, her calf, the inside of her knee, her sensitive tender skin of her inner thigh.
Pru let go and lay down fully on the hard surface of the table, the old wood cool under her naked shoulders.
The wicked lips kissed her inner thigh before slowly changing directions and moving down again, retracing its own caresses, before starting anew on the other leg. Pru moaned, shaking her head from side to side.
“You’re impatient, Prudence. Don’t you know I will give you everything you want? Everything and more.”
Pru barely registered the words, and the teasing tongue now licked along the line connecting hip and thigh, Rhiannon’s fingers nudging her underwear aside, so slowly, so torturously.
She squirmed and felt the answering smile on her skin, Rhiannon taking her time. So much time… Too much time…
“Not too much. I want to savor you. To taste you. You have one up on me and it’s only fair that I take my time indulging in your sweetness, Prudence.”
Pru felt her vision gray at the edges as Rhiannon finally pulled the cotton down and sampled. And yes, she took her sweet time, the tender licks to the very tip of her clit, to the broad strokes to its base, and to the reverent worshipping at her entrance.
Pru opened her eyes to watch Rhiannon take a small step back and bring both hands up, opening her thighs fully. Her mouth wet, her gaze bright with lust, and…wonder?
Rhiannon opened her thighs and just looked, as if Pru was…
“Beautiful, Prudence. So beautiful.” Rhiannon licked her bottom lip and hummed again, as if savoring Pru’s taste, and Pru almost passed out. She pushed against Rhiannon’s hands, her hunger almost painful, and Rhiannon lifted her eyes away from her spread pussy and looked at her.
“So beautiful and so impatient, Prudence.”
And then… Oh Goddess… Rhiannon Crowhart knelt at the edge of the table, bringing her face-to-face with Pru’s wet, aching?—
Rhiannon licked and Prudence moaned. Rhiannon sucked and Prudence screamed. A hand lifted and two fingers speared her, holding her in place better than the hands on her thighs ever did, and then she felt Rhiannon shift slightly and set a rhythm, and she realized Rhiannon was touching herself, stroking herself as she was licking and fucking Pru, and all Pru could do was look as those green eyes glanced up to meet hers.
Pru held on, her hands grabbing the edges of the table and holding on, her breathing ragged, her walls clenching around Rhiannon’s fingers with every stroke, her body closer and closer with each lick. And the sound of Rhiannon fucking herself on her own fingers, the sound of how wet she was, almost threw her off the edge.
She whimpered, bit her lip, held on tighter, and then unclenched her grip, reached for Rhiannon’s hair and tugged.Rhiannon’s growl was feral. She wrapped her lips around Pru’s clit, her tongue lapping at it faster, then licking the very tip, and that was all it took. Pru bit her lip to hold back the scream. She floated, her walls spasming, clenching. And Rhiannon kept sucking, kept licking, kept stroking, and Pru, who had never had two in row, came again, her satisfaction dragging Rhiannon with her on a low moan.
When Pru lifted her head, Rhiannon was still on her knees, her face wet and peaceful on Pru’s thigh, her breathing slowing down, and her mouth twisted in that patented smirk. Sly, teasing. Familiar. Beloved.
Pru tried to swallow around the lump in her throat that almost choked her. What had she done? She closed her eyes and pushed the treacherous word away. The ache of caging this bird was akin to pulling out her own nails, and yet she wasn’t ready, wasn’t even remotely prepared for the repercussions of calling Rhiannon Crowhart’s smirk beloved. Especially not naked and still feeling the aftershocks of two orgasms, definitely not with Rhiannon’s fingers still inside her. And not with the scent of them clinging to her skin, making her long, making her yearn, for more.
So she took the coward’s way out and returned to the seed that Ceridwen planted earlier.
Pru ran her fingers through the tangled mess of Rhiannon’s hair spread all over her thighs and allowed reason and sanity to finally prevail, now that the need and hunger were sated, as she whispered gently, “We have to talk.”
17
RHIANNON, CONFESSIONS & OLD RESENTMENTS
“We have to talk.”
Well, there were worse ways to get pulled out of post-orgasmic bliss. There were better ways too. Like another round. Rhiannon was about to propose one of those. In her brand-new claw-foot bathtub. A custom job. A rush one. Rhiannon had been impatient, as she envisioned many a romp in that particular creation.
“Sure. Let me just clean up first. And, ah… You might need a change of clothes? I can get you some of mine?—”
“I have things here, Rhiannon. I did spend two days and two nights. Ceri made sure I was comfortable.”
“Ceri. Right. Okay, well, I’ll just…” Rhiannon motioned with her chin toward her bathroom and then nodded to herself before turning sharply, too sharply, making herself dizzy in the process and double-timing it out of the kitchen.
As she made her awkward exit—and she couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t awkward—Pru still sat naked and shivering on the table. Rhiannon bit the inside of her cheek and turned the water all the way to hot. Might as well boil herself alive while she was at it.
Halfway through her self-punishment, the temperature lowered slightly and hands wrapped around her from behind as a check was laid on her bare back. Apology? Or forgiveness?
Rhiannon turned to see Pru watching her warily from under wet lashes. Those ridiculously long lashes of hers. Rhiannon smiled and touched her fingertips tenderly to the trembling butterfly wings. Pru closed her eyes and kissed her palm.
