Page 44 of sWitch

She groaned along with me as I screamed through yet another release. My body felt both limp and super charged, wanting more and more. No amount of Remy would ever be enough for me. Somehow, she understood me both emotionally and physically in a way no one ever had. My body and my heart both responded to her in extraordinary ways.

Remy bit along my collarbone, getting on top of me. My fingers grabbed her hair, rubbing along her shoulders and down the muscles of her strong arms.

“We aren’t finished here,” she said, voice laced with rough desire. “Take off my boxers.”

My fingers fidgeted with the thick strap of her sports bra. “Are you sure?”

She scoffed. “Am I sure I want to scissor-fuck you? Yeah, I’m fucking sure.”

I giggled, doing what I was told and reaching down, sliding Remy’s black boxers down her hips. Remy purred, “Good girl.” She pulled up my knee and positioned her leg over mine as she leaned back over top of me, our bodies hovering between promises of both sexual and intimate touch. “Beg for it,” she demanded between kisses. “Beg for me to fuck you like this.”

God, it was hard to form words around her when Iwasn’tout of breath and feeling like I’d been hit by lightning. In that moment, it was damn near impossible to form complete sentences. “Please,” I pushed out. “Please, please, fuck me, Remy.”

The low growl from her throat rivaled the sensuality of the first brush of her hips as they pressed against mine. My arms wrapped around her neck, and I began to move my hips in time with her tempo, our bodies falling together. I’d never felt so close to another human before. The feel of her rough hand skimming down my ribs, holding me, guiding me, pulsing against me in hard passion and soft tenderness—a balance Remy never failed to find and master. Our moans were one, the air from our breathing making it so I didn’t know where she began and I ended. And begin and end we did, over and over again. Our orgasms melted into each other in a beautiful, strung-out moment of scissor-bliss.

I’d been missing out.

I’d been missing out on so much.

Days melted together in blissful togetherness. The following weekend, Remy laced her fingers with mine. “Come here. I have a surprise for you in the bathroom.”

A chair sat in front of the sink, and various bottles of brushes lined the counter above the faucet. “What is this?” I asked as she directed me to sit.

“We have to fix one majorly important thing before my show tonight. I know you dyed your hair to fit some sort of weird-ass, rich asshole beauty standard to impress my parents. And because you don’teverneed to do that…I’ve gathered every color imaginable so I can set that right. What do you think?”

My heart warmed and my throat tightened. “You want to dye my hair?”

Remy rubbed her neck, her bicep flexing and distracting me. “Look, if you like the sad blonde, that’s fine. But I’ve always liked all your colorful, pinkie-pie-princess flair.”

In stunned silence, I shook my head in disbelief. Remy saw me, understood me, accepted me… This sort of relationship was so new to me, I didn’t have words.

Worried by my reserve, she picked up the bottles. “We have Icy Blue Chill, Electric Green, Citrus Orange,Remy’s Princess Forever Pink…”

I giggled. “Well, I know which one you like.”

She shrugged. “Pink suits you.”

“It does,” I agreed as I leaned my head back on the sink. “Get to work, Mall Rat.”

After strapping on gloves, she massaged the pigment through my hair. Instead of closing my eyes, I watched her in quiet concentration. My mind memorized the glint of her lip rings, and my core warmed in remembrance of how they felt pricking across my sensitive center.

“I think I want a piercing too. Would you pierce me?” I asked as Remy rinsed my hair and bundled it in a towel.

“See if you like your hair first before trusting me to stab holes through your body.”

With a grin, I dried my hair and pulled off the towel, admiring the bright pink in the mirror. “It’s perfect.”

Remy wrapped her arms around me from behind, and we stared at each other. Her tattoos, dark hair, and muscles were a lovely contrast to my rosy makeup and wet fuchsia shag. “We’re perfect,” she whispered in my ear, giving my pearl earring a tug with her lips. “Look at us.”

“I’m nothing,” I breathed, the air hitching in my throat.

Remy flicked her tongue down the curve of my neck. “It is now my personally-appointed side-quest to remind you every single day of how fucking gorgeous you are, princess.”

From the mirror’s reflection, I caught just how bright my face reddened. It was embarrassing for my cheeks to match my hair, so my gaze landed back on Remy’s perfect kisses.

She murmured into my neck, “Lean back into me and keep looking in the mirror.”

“I don’t want to watch myself— I want to watchyou,” I argued weakly as Remy’s palm slid down my middle.

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