The words landed like a spark straight to Reese’s core. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to squirm.
“Reese. You’re beautiful,” Sloane continued. “Arch for me a little. Let me see you.”
Reese obeyed instantly, clasping her wrists at the small of her back, chest lifting, offering herself up. The position made her breasts strain against the lace, nipples hard and visible through the thin fabric. Sloane’s eyes darkened.
“Beautiful,” she murmured. “Can you turn around for me? Face the headboard.”
Reese’s breath caught. She shifted slowly onto all fours, deliberately—making it a show because she knew Sloane liked to watch. Palms planted on the mattress, knees spreading just enough, ass up, back dipped in a gentle curve. Vulnerable. Exposed. And so fucking turned on that she could feel the heat between her thighs.
Sloane moved behind her without hurry. The bed dipped as she knelt there, close enough that Reese could feel the warmth radiating off her body. A hand smoothed up the back of Reese’s thigh, light at first, then firmer, possessive. Reese shivered.
“Spread your knees a little more,” Sloane instructed gently. “Just like that. Perfect.”
Reese complied, opening herself wider. The air felt cool against her wetness, heightening every sensation.God.
Sloane’s fingers traced lazy circles over Reese’s ass, then dipped lower, skimming the sensitive skin at the crease of her thigh. Teasing. Never quite where Reese needed her most. It was excruciating in the most wonderful sense.
“Please,” Reese whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it.
Sloane placed a kiss on the small of her back. “I love when you ask so sweetly.”
Her hand finally slid between Reese’s legs, palm cupping her fully for a moment, letting Reese feel the pressure without movement. Then two fingers parted her, stroking slowly,gathering slickness. Reese’s hips rocked back instinctively, chasing more.
“I’ve got you,” Sloane said. Her free hand pressed gently at the small of Reese’s back, holding her in place. “Let me take care of you, okay?”
Reese whimpered but obeyed, trembling as Sloane’s fingers circled her clit, slow, deliberate swirls that built the ache without mercy. Then they slid lower, pressing inside her in one smooth glide. Reese gasped, walls clenching around the intrusion. Sloane didn’t thrust right away. She curled her fingers instead, stroking that perfect spot inside while her thumb kept lazy pressure on Reese’s clit.
The rhythm built gradually, coming in unhurried strokes from behind, each one dragging against every sensitive nerve. Sloane’s other hand roamed: gripping Reese’s hip, sliding up to palm her breast through the bra, pinching a nipple just hard enough to make Reese moan.
“You feel so good like this,” Sloane murmured, leaning forward so her chest brushed Reese’s back. “All open for me.”
Reese could only nod, words lost in the mounting pleasure. Her arms shook, and her thighs burned from holding the position. But she didn’t move. Didn’t dare.
Sloane’s pace quickened, just enough. Fingers curling harder, thumb circling faster. Reese’s moans turned desperate, body tightening, coiling.
“Come for me,” Sloane whispered against her ear. “Right here, just like this.”
The command tipped her over. Reese shattered with a broken cry, pulsing around Sloane’s fingers, hips jerking despite the hand still holding her steady. Waves of pleasure rolled through her until she was spent, forehead dropping to the sheets, breath ragged.
Sloane eased her fingers out slowly, soothing with gentle strokes along Reese’s back and thighs. She pressed soft kisses to the curve of Reese’s spine, then helped her collapse onto her side, curling around her from behind.
Reese turned her head, seeking Sloane’s mouth. The kiss was gentle, almost reverent. Their lips lingered in soft, open presses, no rush, no demand.
“You just wrecked me,” Reese managed, shaking her head. “I came so hard. Fuck.”
“Therewasfucking,” Sloane smiled against her lips. “I hope you liked it.”
Reese laughed breathlessly. “God help me, I did.”
They stayed tangled like that for a few quiet minutes, Sloane tracing idle patterns on Reese’s hip, Reese’s fingers laced with hers. That is, until Reese’s thoughts turned to Sloane’s body, her curves. Her hunger slid back into place, and she slid on top. Sloane landed on her back beneath her, that black tank top still clinging.
“Just what is happening now?” Sloane asked, staring up at Reese.
“I think it’s your turn.”
“Oh yeah?” Sloane asked, blue eyes darkening.
Reese settled her thighs on either side of Sloane’s hips, palms braced beside Sloane’s head. She dipped low, brushing her lips against Sloane’s ear. “You’ve been so patient. But I can feel how worked up you are.”
