Page 37 of Queen's Ransom

Helena released her, but Celia was too hot to feel a chill this time, and she trusted Helena would be right there when she turned around. The sight that greeted her was even better—Helena unbuttoning and lowering her jeans, revealing satin underwear that matched the blue of her bra. Celia moved to lower her pants too, but Helena stopped her. “No, leave them on. You in that bra and those tight-ass pants is incredibly sexy.”

“But there’s a thong under here,” Celia muttered against her lips as they edged toward the couch.

“I know. Fucking lace. Does it match the bra?”

Celia smiled.

Growling, Helena gave her a light shove and Celia fell into the couch cushions. “If I see that,” Helena said as she lowered her weight onto Celia’s thighs, “I won’t be able to stop myself, and the first time I eat you out, I want it to be on a bed where I can spread you out on cotton sheets and fucking feast.”

Celia’s eyes fluttered closed and she dropped her head back on the cushions, the image Helena had put in her mind too erotic to bear. “Holy fuck. I’d always thought about the gym mats, but that works too.”

Helena dragged a damp finger up her neck to her chin, drawing Celia’s gaze back upright. “Look what you do to me, Cee.” Her eyes flicked down, and Celia followed her gaze. With Helena straddling her, legs spread, her soaked satin underwear were on full display. She hadn’t been lying, and Celia felt her own swell of pride. She’d done that. After years of being told she was no longer sexy, no longer attractive, that she was used up and not worth the time anymore, the sexiest person she knew was straddled across her thighs and soaking wet. For her.

“Yeah, baby,” Helena said. “You did that.” She inched the tip of her finger between Celia’s parted lips. The flavor on Helena’s fingertip was sharp and musky, with only the faintest scent of lavender. Celia had no doubt Helena had touched herself while Celia’s eyes had been closed and now she was tasting Helena on her tongue, and fuck did she want more of that, but she wanted to touch first.

She reached a hand toward Helena’s underwear, then hesitated, suddenly shy and nervous. She’d never done this before with anyone but a man, and only one man at that.

“You know exactly what to do.” Helena leaned forward and gave her an encouraging kiss. “You know what feels good.” She put her hand down Celia’s pants again, moved aside the thong, and nestled her fingers between her folds.

Celia mimicked the motion, pushing Helena’s briefs aside and gliding the tips of her fingers through short coarse hairs on the way to warm enticing wetness. “Oh fuck. Helena that feels…”

“So good,” Helena groaned. She rolled her hips and rode Celia’s fingers, creating her own friction and giving Celia an even better tour of her hot, slick pussy.

Celia sank farther into the cushions, canting her hips and drawing Helena closer. Helena braced a hand behind her on the back of the couch, and Celia cupped her breast. The weight in her hand was perfect as were the goosebumps that rose on Helena’s skin. Wanting to feel and see more, she dipped her fingers into the cup and lifted out her breast.

“Pinch it,” Helena said.

Celia rolled the rosy nipple between her thumb and forefinger, then pinched, and Helena’s back bowed. More wetness covered Celia’s fingers where they continued to slide between Helena’s labia. She followed the source of heat and her own curiosity and desire and sank a finger inside Helena.

So hot, so tight, and Helena made it more so, clenching her muscles. “That’s it, Cee. Fuck me.”

She pumped one, then two fingers inside Helena, faltering momentarily as Helena sank two fingers inside her. It only took a couple seconds for them to get into a rhythm together, the roll of their hips and their touches in sync.

Celia drew back enough to admire the woman astride her lap. Her strong body, the attractive blush spread across her porcelain skin, the beads of sweat that dotted her hairline, all that sex-tousled hair.

“Like what you see?”

Celia’s gaze returned to Helena’s lust-darkened one. “Yeah, I like it a lot.”

“You know what I want to see?”

“What’s that?” Celia panted.

“You come.” Helena thrust her fingers inside Celia, once, twice more, then dragged them up to circle her clit. Once, twice again, then she pressed directly against the aching bundle of nerves. Celia shouted as her orgasm ripped through her, shocks of heat and pleasure pulsing from her center all the way out to her fingers and toes.

Including the ones inside Helena, whose muscles fluttered around them. She was on the same cliff Celia had just toppled over, and Celia wanted Helena there with her in the pleasurable afterglow. Angling her thumb, she found Helena’s clit and gave it a few rough passes.

Helena bucked hard and dropped her forehead onto Celia’s shoulder. “Almost there,” she panted. “Make me come, Cee.”

Celia curled the fingers inside her and swiped her thumb once more over Helena’s clit. That was all it took. Helena rode out her orgasm with her teeth lightly biting Celia’s shoulder.

Celia knew it was over when teeth became lips, gently kissing across her collarbone until Helena was nuzzling the crook of her neck. Who would have thought Helena Madigan was a cuddler? Celia angled her head, likewise nuzzling Helena’s temple. “Thank you,” Celia whispered. “That was the best orgasm I’ve had since I can’t remember when. Maybe ever.”

Helena chuffed and lolled her head on Celia’s shoulder, glancing up at her through the errant blond strands that fell across her face. It was the single hottest look that had ever been cast Celia’s way. And the words that followed only ramped up the temperature. “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started.”

Chapter Sixteen

Helena darkened her tablet screen, which in turn darkened the projection screen at the front of the conference room where she stood. To her right, Avery hit the switch to deactivate the blackout glass on the interior and exterior windows, letting back in the soft light of MCS’s executive floor and the muted gray of another rainy January day.

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