But Deryn would understand…
The thought of Deryn, in her torn jeans in winter, in her leather jacket in the snow, with her pink bangs and shaggy, silky hair, with her eager smile and ridiculous freckles, made her hot all over… Amidst her anguish, she was burning up with a new flame.
She wondered if she’d set the water temperature too high. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was tantalizing, a feeling of being consumed, tended to…
Paloma’s hand drifted downward, caressing her breasts, one then the other, allowing time to play with the nipples, to tease them into sharp points, needy and begging for more. For another touch, another tug, for a hungry, wet mouth…
She let them yearn as she glided lower still, her stomach muscles tensing, enjoying the sensation of the heat spreadingeverywhere she touched, till she reached the short hair, tangling her fingers in it, letting the warmth catch up to her touch, letting herself anticipate, allowing her thoughts to flow, to wander, to run wild…
Her fingers delved into her folds, slippery even in the water, and she moaned, unrestrained. There was nobody to hear her, no reason to feel embarrassed, and nothing to be shy about. She wanted this, wanted this release, this little fantasy of heat and friction. Her fingers circled her clit once, twice, before moving downward still, letting the tension build. Her mind conjured strong hands skimming all over her, a rough voice filled with desire telling her hot, filthy things, things that should fluster her, should make her blush. Instead, these things made her knees spread farther, opening up, made her want to be taken, to be speared, to be penetrated. Want those long, sure fingers and those red, hungry lips to take her.
She thrust two fingers into herself without preamble, with a rough and fast rhythm.
“Yes, yes… Please…”
She didn’t know to whom she was pleading. Or for what. She was too far gone, the tremors of her thighs announcing the coming orgasm, signaling how close she was, how unbelievably fast it would be upon her. Paloma was never easy in bed. It had taken her years to figure herself out. Years and many lovers who either disappointed or left her cold, so why now? How…
The voice in her ear kept murmuring, the whisper abrading her nerve endings, sending her careening toward a raging inferno. But she needed something, just a little?—
“And then as I slide in and out of your tight cunt?—”
Deryn…
Paloma came with a shout, shaking and almost sliding too low into the water, the bubbles covering her neck and chin. She sputtered and then allowed herself to float, limp and sated. Sheshould be horrified at what she had just done. Mortified too, but certainly horrified, because it was unconscionable. It was…
She licked her lips and closed her eyes. It was something she would have to examine later. Weeks after and Deryn Crowhart was still the best orgasm she’d had in years… Probably in her life. Even flying solo, the woman was lethal. And so, the horror and the shock and the self-recriminations would have to wait. Maybe tomorrow she’d find it in herself to feel all those things. Right now, liquid fire was running through her veins, and the feeling of needing more was rising, a touch too acute for her to ignore.
“Damn her,” Paloma whispered as she tugged on an already hard nipple once again, and reached for the little drawer by the tub. She’d need mechanical assistance to help quench this fire.
12
DERYN, COCONUT STRAWBERRY JAM SANDWICH BARS & TWINS (THE DIFFICULTY OF BEING)
B&E AT CROW’S BLOSSOMS!
Sources at the sheriff’s department confirm that after years of calm on Dragons, the town is facing a crime spree.
Yes, a spree.
Unlike our esteemed law enforcement, the Caw has not forgotten the arson at the Crow & Cat. And now another Crowhart property is at the center of a crime.
According to our sources, nothing was stolen, and Ceridwen Crowhart was seen sweeping the broken glass of the front window of the flower shop, which the would-be burglars shattered to gain entry. Whether something spooked the bandits, or they found the register too light, the Caw is on the case—hopefully along with Sheriff Redding.
We asked the front-runners of the mayoral race to comment on the first breaking and entering in Crow’s Nest in years.
John Moss dismissed the situation as “some kids probably playing ball and breaking the window.” While Paloma Allende corrected the report that the property crime was the firstin many years, stating, “In fact, not even the first for this particular family, since the Crowharts experienced several similar misfortunes a few months ago when the Atelier was broken into.”
Ouch. There goes the credibility of the sheriff’s department.
We are back to watching the Market Square. And you should probably start locking your doors again, kids or no kids, ball or no ball.
—Crow’s Caw
“Ouch, indeed.”Ceridwen set the tabby kitten down on the carpet and stood up effortlessly, hand not touching the floor, to turn off the whistling kettle.
“Show-off,” Deryn muttered.
Ceridwen threw a smile over her shoulder.
