Page 110 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Monroe didn’t know how she’d ever survived without this. Without Blake’s fingers filling her. Without the open, honest look in Blake’s eyes, even as she recognized how dangerous it was.

“Blake,” Monroe pleaded when a hand snaked up her abdomen. With surprising deftness, Blake unclasped her bra from an almost invisible hook in the front.

Yeah, underestimating Blake about anything in future would be a really stupid idea.

They both moaned when Blake circled her finger around one of Monroe’s hard nipples, tight and aching for relief.

Her whole body felt that way, really, coiling pressure in her pussy and at the base of her spine and in her nipples, tension rippling through her with each stroke of Blake’s fingers.

She almost screamed when Blake’s tongue slid against her clit.

“Fuck,” Blake breathed out against the sensitive bundle of nerves, curling her fingers upward just like Monroe had done to her earlier. “This is so much better than I even imagined.”

And Monroe knew then that Blake had thought about her. She’d admitted it already, but something about hearing Blake say it again sent a whole new wave of desire through her.

Monroe wrapped the hand she’d had fisting into the comforter through Blake’s hair, guiding her, keeping her close.

“I want to make you come.”

Those were the last words Monroe could understand before Blake licked a broad, flat stroke up Monroe’s center.

Everything inside of her short-circuited, like she was being completely reset to her basest instincts. No worries. No fear. No thinking about how complicated her life had gotten almost overnight.

No—none of that was registering anymore because all Monroe could do now was feel.

The way Blake’s fingers worked into her pussy, over and over again. The swirl of Blake’s tongue against her clit, with varying speeds that only served to drive her insane. Blake’s hand, toying with her nipples, which she pinched, causing Monroe’s back to arch off the bed, a moan tearing from her throat.

Her thighs clenched while her hips started rocking toward Blake’s mouth, needing to find relief.

It wouldn’t be long.

She couldn’t⁠—

“Blake,” she cried out as Blake stretched her thighs open wider, her tongue focusing on Monroe’s clit as she licked and sucked with focused precision. All the while, she was still filling Monroe, her long fingers curling into her, driving her insane.

She wanted to stave off her orgasm. She didn’t want this to be over, to lose this perfect place where time and responsibilities and worries didn’t exist.

Monroe hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed Blake to touch her. How much she’d needed to just let go and have Blake fuck her brains out.

There was no way she could have known just how well Blake would rise to the challenge. How fucking enthusiastic she’d be to pull Monroe to the edge and send her careening over the cliff⁠—

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Monroe bit out, throwing her arm over her face to muffle the moan that tore from her throat.

“In my mouth,” Blake demanded, licking tight circles around her clit. All the while her fingers didn’t relent.

Hearing those words—the neediness in Blake’s tone—sent her right over the edge.

Monroe’s back arched, any sense of control snapping in two. Intense waves of pleasure pulsed outward from the base of her spine as her orgasm rolled through her.

She rutted into Blake’s mouth harder, and Blake made the most exquisite sounds of pleasure herself, as she lapped up the wetness coating her lips and chin.

It was hard for Monroe to catch her breath as her orgasm started to gentle. Blake’s touch was also slowing, bringing her down easy.

Monroe said something that she thought were words, but all that she got was a look from Blake, who tilted her head to the side and wiped her hand across her face.

She looked so fucking perfect, her hair mussed and her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and falling.

Finally, Blake removed her fingers and scratched lightly down Monroe’s thighs, which caused her hips to jerk of their own accord.