Page 144 of The Right Kind of Wrong

“It’s free cold air,” Blake said, unembarrassed. “You’ve really spoiled me at your house these last few weeks.”

Blake’s definition of finer things had changed dramatically since her divorce, but it didn’t mean that she wasn’t still indulgent.

The air-conditioning was nice, but this—Monroe pressed against her back, toying with her—was the finest of them all.

And she definitely, definitely wanted to indulge.

Monroe leaned forward, her breath washing over Blake’s ear and cheek. “You can be quiet for me, even though I know that you’re going to want to scream,” she whispered, her hand ghosting down to Blake’s clit. She held her palm against the sensitive bundle of nerves before rolling her fingers in a tight circle. Blake shuddered at the contact. “Can you be good for me and be quiet?”

“Fuck,” Blake groaned—quietly—already pressing her thighs together, trying to find some way to alleviate the needy ache.

Monroe’s fingers started moving in focused circles as she stared at Blake in the mirror. “You are so fucking beautiful, Blake. I love watching you. Do you like me getting to watch you like this while I fuck you?”

“Yes,” she panted when Monroe’s fingers dipped lower, swirling around her wet entrance.

She really did love it. Having all of Monroe’s attention. The way her blue eyes were so focused on her in the mirror. Monroe caught her stare when she pushed inside with two fingers, filling her so perfectly that Blake had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. “Put your hands on the counter,” Monroe commanded, an edge of need in her own voice that only made Blake burn hotter.

Blake pressed her palms flat.

“Now, spread your legs wider for me,” Monroe instructed, holding her fingers still inside of Blake, her other hand anchoring Blake’s hip.

A neediness welled up in the pit of her stomach that only Monroe could truly fill, fucking it out of her with her perfect fingers.

Blake took a step in each direction, feeling the stretch in her pussy. “Monroe,” she keened as Monroe rubbed her own body against her naked ass.

“Do you like being fucked like this?” she asked against Blake’s ear. “I can already feel you dripping all over my fingers. You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Yes,” Blake panted as Monroe slid her fingers out and plunged them back in. “All for you.”

Monroe stilled her fingers again, her own breathing ragged when she said, “I need to know that you like this, Blake. That you like riding my fingers while I watch you in the mirror.”

She caught Blake’s stare again, and her hips jerked in response. “Yes. I love it, Monroe. I love when you fuck me like this.”

And it was the absolute truth. She loved the way that Monroe was looking everywhere. At the hand between Blake’s legs. At Blake’s breasts, which bounced whenever Monroe thrust into her. At Blake’s face, eyes lidded with want, lips wet from the way that she kept running her tongue over them, trying to stop herself from biting down.

If she did, it would probably be hard enough to draw blood.

“Good girl,” Monroe said when she started thrusting deeper. Her hand bracketed Blake’s hip, giving her the resistance to keep Blake close while she fucked her.

And god, did she fuck her.

In and out with slow, deliberate strokes that pushed Blake higher and higher. Her whole body was opening up as Monroe’s watchful eyes took it all in.

Took all of Blake in.

Which sent a thrill through her. It only intensified when Monroe rutted her own hips into Blake’s ass, grinding against her.

“Please,” Blake begged quietly, splaying her hands out on the cool countertop, the pleasure turning to pain as Monroe kept her focused pace.

She needed more. She needed Monroe’s fingers on her clit, pulling her orgasm from her body along with the shuddering groan building in the back of her throat.

“What do you need?” Monroe asked before she bit down on Blake’s earlobe, sending a wave of heat through her.

“My clit,” Blake gasped, pained. “Please.”

Monroe smiled at Blake in the mirror, biting her lip before she told her, “You can touch your clit. Show me how needy I make you. Can you do that for me?”

God. Monroe was trying to kill her.