Page 136 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Blake hadn’t been treated well, and Monroe wanted to be the person who broke that cycle for her. The only surprise was that she seemed to want it just as badly outside of their sex life.

She wanted to live inside of this moment forever. Blake above her, knowing that Monroe would be just as good to Blake as she was for Monroe. The best kind of push and pull, as far as Monroe was concerned.

“Monroe,” Blake screamed, and Monroe thrilled at her name on Blake’s lips as she started to come.

She wanted Blake to forget Noah Duvall. Forget that anything existed except for the way that Monroe filled her so fucking perfectly.

Did Blake feel the same way?

The needy, out-of-control feeling that could only be sated when they came together like this?

It felt like making Blake come righted some sort of cosmic imbalance and shifted everything to exactly where it should be, and Monroe’s heart fluttered with the weight of this sensation.

Blake rocked her hips hard against Monroe, thrusting down over and over, chanting her name into the darkened room.

With one last shuddering cry, she collapsed against Monroe, panting into her ear.

“You better not be thinking about touching yourself,” Blake said quickly, her hand snaking between them and grabbing Monroe’s wrist. She looked at Monroe so seriously then, like she would genuinely throw a fit if Monroe made herself come instead of Blake.

“It was one time,” Monroe protested, adding, “Plus, having you against me was really fucking sexy. Am I to blame?”

This didn’t mollify Blake in the slightest.

She pouted, her fingers sliding down, teasing against the entrance of Monroe’s soaked pussy. Touching Blake just had that effect on her.

“What if I want to watch you touch yourself?” Monroe asked, the words tumbling out before she’d considered them.

And for the first time since they’d gotten back to Blake’s house, uncertainty flashed across her beautiful features. “I’m . . . That’s . . .”

Monroe sat up straighter, easing her fingers out of Blake slowly before settling her hands against Blake’s hips. “I would never want you to do something you’re uncomfortable with. But you are so fucking gorgeous to look at. Like a painting that gets more interesting the longer I stare at it. I go crazy just looking at you, and the idea of watching you while you touch yourself? It’s . . . yeah. It really does it for me.”

Now it was Monroe’s turn to blush. She hadn’t thought about it in exactly those terms before, but it was true.

And it was something she’d never wanted with another partner.

She was obsessed with watching Blake. And the idea of watching Blake own her own pleasure? For Monroe’s benefit, on top of it?

Well, that would make Monroe come so fucking quickly that she hoped Blake saw it the way that Monroe did—like the gift she genuinely believed it to be.

Blake blinked down at Monroe, her eyes sharper than they’d been moments ago. “You see me like a painting?”

Nodding, Monroe forced the words out before she lost her nerve. “You’re art, Blake. Unique and interesting and the only point of view that I’m interested in,” she admitted quietly. Not because she wanted to get Blake to agree to anything, but because it was the truth.

All that she really wanted was for Blake to see that, too.

Emotion washed over Blake’s features, and she squirmed against Monroe’s lap. Monroe tried her best to ignore the way her clit was throbbing from the slight, jerky movements.

She let out a staccato breath—maybe a hiss, technically—and waited for Blake to still again.

And Blake did, sort of, except that she spread her hips open wider, her knees almost touching the sofa with the way that she’d splayed herself out, still on top of Monroe.

For the briefest moment, Monroe wondered if she’d make a huge mistake. But then Blake removed the fingers from her pussy and turned her wrist, running an exploratory finger up her own wetness.

“Like this?” she asked, drawing a small circle around her clit and bucking against the touch.

Monroe blew out a long, indulgent exhale, her own clit throbbing with need. “Only if you’re sure.”

“This gets you off? Watching me like this?” Blake asked, dragging her finger lower, down to her entrance.