I snickered. “Oh, skatt,youare also the talent. Those cameras are following you?—”
“Andthatis why this… we have to be careful.” She stopped, biting her lip in thought. “Now we just… pretend like there is no one else in the world for a few hours? Now we just get what we both want?”
“And that is?”
“A little slice of heaven where you get me off until I cannotstand it anymore?”
I grinned slyly as she pulled my hand up her thigh.
She whispered, “I wasn’t wearing panties all night. You should really try to take advantage of that.”
“A princess who doesn’t wear panties?” I laughed.
“I know. How did they ever let me out of finishing school? I was rebellious. Do you want me or not?”
“I want you so bad,” I said. “Hopelessly and against all my better judgement.”
We fell back on the bed momentarily, my hand up her dress as we kissed. She wrapped her leg over my hip, opening as I found her desperate clit. She was already wet. Her breath picked up as I slowly touched her with just two fingers. She pulled away, distracted.
“The lights…” Betty gasped. “Släckte lamporna?” She winced in broken Swedish. I realized she thought I didn’t understand her. In truth, I was trying to recover from thinking about her pussy as she described things in my mother tongue.
“I… I just needed a minute,” I said. “Sorry. And… that’s past tense.”
“Look, I am working on TV shows and high school Swedish. Do you want to fuck me or not?” She joked.
“I do, yeah. But leave the lights on.”
She grimaced.
I pulled her close again. “You’re beautiful. I want to see all of you. Let me be selfish.”
With a devilish look, she slipped from my grasp. Standing before me, eyes locked, she unzipped her dress and shimmied out. I sat up, enthralled. As she kicked the garment aside, I took in her soft curves and the way shadows from the low light fell around her.
“What?” Betty asked. “Cat got your tongue?”
“I’m just comparing what I thought you’d look like from the version I remember in a dark haze, Elisabeth.”
One hand on her hip, she asked, “And does it compare?”
“You’re like something out of a bloody renaissance painting,” I murmured.
She stepped closer, parting my legs with her body.
Her hands cupped my face, “That is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. You’re good at a grovel.”
I turned, kissing her right palm. “It’s just the honest-to-God reality.”
“Why shouldn’t I just torture you?” Betty asked.
“Because I drive you mad and you want me.”
She blushed, then walked to the side. Falling on the bed with a pleasant thud, she smiled. As Betty rolled sideways, I appreciated all of her.
“What? If you want me, you’re going to have to get naked,” she giggled.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not sure how I ended up here.”
“Oh, come on, I’m a mortal like you, Mary.”
