Page 27 of Say You Want Me
Charlotte didn’t let her finish. She pulled her fingers free, then gripped Taylor’s hip, flipping her onto her stomach. Taylor went willingly, her ass lifting into the air, her face pressing into the pillow. Charlotte didn’t hesitate. She slid two fingers back inside Taylor from behind, her other hand gripping Taylor’s hip, holding her in place as she drove into her, deep and hard.
Taylor’s moan was muffled against the sheets, her fingers clawing at the fabric. Charlotte leaned over her, her chest pressing against Taylor’s back, her lips finding the shell of Taylor’s ear.
“You wanted me to take it?” Charlotte’s voice was a dark purr, her breath hot against Taylor’s skin. “Thenfeelwhat you do to me.”
She thrust her fingers deeper, and her left hand reached around to find Taylor’s clit again, her fingertips rubbing in firm, demanding circles. Taylor’s body locked, her muscles clenching around Charlotte’s fingers, her breath coming in sharp, broken gasps.
“Come on, Taylor,” Charlotte said softly, her lips brushing her ear. “Come for me.”
Taylor’s back arched, a choked cry tearing from her throat as her orgasm hit, her body pulsing around Charlotte’s fingers, her thighs shaking. Charlotte didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding out every last shudder until Taylor collapsed onto the bed, boneless and gasping.
Charlotte pulled her fingers free, her body humming with the aftershocks of Taylor’s release. She rolled her both over, her mouth crashing into Taylor’s in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, her hand sliding between their bodies, her fingers finding the wet, swollen heat between Taylor’s legs again.
Taylor’s hips jerked up, her body still sensitive, but Charlotte didn’t care. She rubbed her clit in tight, ceaseless circles, her own hips grinding down against Taylor’s thigh, the friction sending sparks through her body.
“Fuck,fuck—” Taylor’s hands gripped Charlotte’s ass, her fingers digging in as she rocked up against Charlotte’s hand, her thigh pressing harder between Charlotte’s legs.
Charlotte’s breath came in sharp, desperate gasps, her body wound so tight she thought she’d break, and then Taylor’s fingers were there, slipping between Charlotte’s legs, her touch sure and demanding as she found Charlotte’s clit, her strokes matching the rhythm of Charlotte’s own hand.
Pleasure crashed over Charlotte in a white-hot wave, her orgasm ripping through her, her body locking as she came, her hips stuttering against Taylor’s thigh, her fingers still working Taylor’s clit as Taylor followed her over, her own release hitting with a broken cry, their bodies moving together, grinding through the aftershocks, their skin slick with sweat, their breath shared and ragged.
Charlotte collapsed against Taylor, her body humming, her skin buzzing with the echo of her release. Taylor’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close, their hearts pounding in sync, the sound loud in the quiet of the loft.
Charlotte’s lips found Taylor’s again, her kiss slow and deep, her body still thrumming with the memory of Taylor’s hands, her mouth, the way she’d come.
Taylor’s fingers traced lazy patterns up and down Charlotte’s spine, her touch light, almost reverent now, the storm of their urgency finally spent.
Charlotte lifted her head just enough to meet Taylor’s eyes, her own still dark with the remnants of her climax.
“Next time,” Charlotte said, her voice rough, “I’m tying you to the bed.”
20
Adeep throb ran through Taylor’s inner thighs when she shifted, the kind of heavy muscle fatigue that usually took hours of gigging to carve into her bones. Morning light sliced through the curtains, casting pale amber stripes across the dark hardwood floor. Saturday. Her lower back burned, a dull, bruised heat lingering right where Charlotte’s hands had clamped down to hold her still.
She turned her head slowly, her shoulders bracing for the hollow chill of an empty sheet.
But Charlotte hadn’t run.
Blonde waves spilled across the dark pillowcase, catching the hazy morning sun. Charlotte lay on her side, one slender arm tucked near her chin, her mouth relaxed. A faint rose flush painted the skin below her jaw where Taylor had bitten down, a mark that would hopefully fade before Monday’s lecture.
Taylor stayed frozen. The wet, frantic drag of Charlotte’s mouth against her stomach flared in her belly, a remembered slickness that made her thighs tighten. The sharp rasp of Charlotte’s voice demanding total surrender pressed against her throat, and her hips gave a small, involuntary shift against the mattress.
The terrifying, exhilarating way Charlotte had taken control flared through her again—flipping her onto her stomach, fucking her until she came so hard. The memory hit her again, sending a sudden wave of heat straight to the slick, sensitive skin between her legs.
Then the familiar cold knot tightened in Taylor’s gut.
It took three seconds for the stark reality of daylight to scrub the heat away. Her professor was sleeping in her bed. The woman whose red pen marked Taylor’s essays, who had built a twenty-year career out of boundaries and logic. As soon as Charlotte opened those eyes, the wall would slide right back into place. Taylor could practically hear the rehearsed script warming up in Charlotte’s throat.Last night was a mistake. It can’t happen again.
A soft breath parted Charlotte’s lips. She shifted under the covers, her shoulders flexing as she rolled onto her back. The sheet slid down, exposing the pale curve of her ribs and the dark smudges lingering over her collarbone. Her eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep, before focusing slowly on Taylor’s face.
“Good morning,” Taylor said, her throat raspy from the night before.
“Morning,” Charlotte murmured, her voice low and thick with sleep.
Taylor pushed herself up to a sitting position, leaning her bare back against the headboard and dragging the sheet to her waist. Charlotte half sat up beside her, propping her upper body on an elbow as she ran a hand through her disheveled blond hair.
Taylor tried not to stare, but the effort was useless. Charlotte looked stunning in the dim morning light. The polished makeup from last night had faded away completely, her cheeks flushed, her soft lips slightly swollen from hours of kissing.
