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Her shirt found its way into a crumpled heap on the floor. Her bra went next, straps sliding down her arms, revealing the curves of her ample breasts, perhaps a little less perky than in the full bloom of youth but no less perfect now. Ali didn’t discriminate, often finding the little signs of Charlotte’s age dangerously appealing. Not that there were very many. Subtle laugh lines and a sprinkle of gray hair growing in a little patch behind her left ear. Those silver hairs were her very favorite.

Ali charted each and every line and curve, dip and hollow, studying her like a work of art created by the great masters who shaped the history and trajectory of art itself. The sight of Charlotte’s nude willowy form rendered her just as speechless. Fingers itched to trace those shifting planes. She ached to kneel at her altar and worship each and every inch of her sculpted temple. She would be the acolyte who studied her form, trying to discern the ways of her mystery, bound to create poor renderings of her beauty until her hands were too gnarled and wizened to hold a pencil or brush. For, how could anyone hope to capture the wonder dwelling in her soul?

Hands gripped her ankles drawing her out of her musing and toward the edge of the bed where Charlotte spread her thighs wide, gazing at the glistening evidence of her arousal. Her heart thundered in her chest, body trembling with anticipation. Fingertips played down the inside of her thighs only to glide nails back up, leaving trails of need in their wake.

Hushed curses tipped off her tongue, tumbling past her lips as Charlotte set her aflame. Hell bent on having her unravel before she even properly touched her.

The light from the moon streamed through the windows behind Ali, illuminating Charlotte’s form with a silvery glow, causing her pale eyes to shimmer with starlight.

“Charlotte,” Ali uttered her name like a prayer.

Perhaps it was. Perhaps she was praying for mercy.

“Alina.”

God, her name on those lips—her real name—rhapsody burst through in her chest.

Deft hands gripped beneath her knees, drawing them up, practically folding her in half. Blue eyes widened and darkened with hunger. A wanton whimper clambered up her throat ready to beg to be devoured.

“Use your words,” Charlotte rasped.

“Please.”

Charlotte kept her knees pinned while her other hand trailed down the backs of her thighs to sweep around the edge of her aching sex.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“I am,” Charlotte quipped, a smirk tugging at the edge of her mouth. “Where do you want me to touch you? Here?”

Her hand moved to cup her core, finger trailing up through slick folds.

“Oh, darling,” Charlotte said as both of them groaned. “You are wet for me.”

“Stop teasing and fuck me,” Ali’s voice was lost somewhere between a plea and a demand, her entire body tingling with breathless anticipation.

A smirk curled at the edges of Charlotte’s lips. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

Ali whined, the ache between her thighs near painful.

“With my mouth?” Charlotte asked, drawing her hand away from Ali’s core to suck the glistening essence off her fingers, moaning at the taste of her. “With my fingers?” she rasped, continuing her agonizing teasing strokes. “Or⁠—”

“Both!”

Charlotte pushed inside of her with one finger, drawing a shuddering moan from her as she pulled out only to plunge back in with two fingers.

It felt so good.

Curses streamed past her lips as Charlotte wasted no time in setting a steady pace, experimenting to find what made Ali moan or curse the loudest. Ali bit into her own lips to stifle the obscene sounds of pleasure.

But Charlotte was having none of that.

“Let me hear you,” she demanded on a hard thrust.

Ali groaned, already hurtling toward release.

“That’s it,” Charlotte said, voice rough with want as Ali’s body went taut. “Good girl,” she praised when Ali’s cunt clamped down on her fingers and with a well-timed swipe of her thumb she pushed Ali right over the edge and into bliss.