“What did you say?” I mumbled between her lips.
“Sshhh,” she said, silencing me as she slid her hands beneath my jeans and panties and pulled them down, leaving me bare and trembling. I watched as she pushed her shorts and boxers off her hips, and I bit my lip instinctively.
Marley was more than beautiful. She looked like she was carved from the same sand that moulded Ares, the god of war.
Her shoulders were broad and her arms corded with lean muscles that made me wonder if she worked out steadily. Her breasts were small and tipped with pale pink nipples that made my mouth go dry. My gaze trailed lower, down to the curve of her hips.
She stood in front of me, daring me to look away. Her thighs were thick and powerful. Between them, her pussy was smooth and bare.
Heat curled low in my stomach, my body clenching with an ache I had no name for. She caught me staring, and instead of teasing, she smiled in a slow and predatory way as she tugged me toward the couch, sinking down and bringing me with her.
The couch felt cool against my back, a shock compared to her heat as she pressed herself against me.
When she hooked her thigh over mine and slid our bodies together, skin to slick skin, I cried out.
“Oh my God?—”
“Yeah,” she groaned, rolling her clit into mine. “That’s us. That’s how good two women can fit together.”
The grind was everything. It was wet, hot, and obscene. Our clits dragged against each other, rhythm building as she guided my hips with a rough grip. The couch creaked beneath us as my moans filled the room.
“You’re so fucking wet,” she panted, biting at my throat. “I can feel how much you need me.”
Her words pushed me higher. My legs shook, toes curling against the cushions, nails digging into her back. The pressure coiled tight inside me, unbearable, and I bucked against her, desperate to fall.
I was close, too close, but she slowed, kissing me deep as if to steady me.
“Not yet,” she said, voice rough. “I want to taste you first.”
Before I could beg, she slid down my body, lips dragging fire over my stomach, my hips, the soft inside of my thighs. By the time she spread me open, I was shaking.
She looked up once, eyes locking on mine. “Trust me.”
Then her mouth was on me.
The first lick made me sob. My hips jerked, but she held me down, her tattooed arm braced across my waist.
“Easy,” she whispered, her breath hot against me. “Let me take care of you.”
Her tongue slid through me, slowly, teasing before pressing harder. Every flick made my body jolt; every circle dragged me closer. She moaned into me, the sound vibrating through my core, and the sensation had me clawing at the couch.
When she sucked, I screamed. My body arched off the cushions, and my thighs clamped around her head before I could stop myself. She groaned like she loved it while holding me open.
The coil inside me snapped. Pleasure ripped through me, violent and raw, and I came undone in her mouth. My cries filled the room as I shook, clutching her hair, my whole-body quaking under the waves.
She didn’t stop. She licked me through it, gentler now, coaxing every last tremor until I collapsed, boneless, against the couch.
When she finally slid back up my body, her lips glistened, and the look in her eyes nearly undid me all over again. She kissed me softly, letting me taste myself on her tongue.
When I opened my eyes again, she was looking at me with something soft and wrecked and tender all at once as she brushed her thumb over my cheek.
“You okay?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I said, voice shaking. Then, quieter— “Wow.”
She laughed softly against my forehead, then stopped and captured my lips.
“Now,” she whispered against my lips, “you know.”
