“Both of us, Bambi?” Zuri chuckled but her hands roamed down Marisol’s back. “Every time?” She slipped under her shirt, sending a rush of heat skittering across her skin. “Do you think you can handle that?”
Biting her own bottom lip, Marisol grabbed Zuri’s jaw-dropping ass with borrowed confidence. “If I can’t handle you…” she whispered against her parted lips, “then I don’t deserve you.”
Zuri gasped when Marisol squeezed her hard and possessively. “Full of surprises,” she replied, lips grazing Marisol’s mouth. “Let’s go then.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sunset was only hours away.Elena sensed the time in her body, in the blood flowing to her muscles, filling her with more energy by the second. She leapt out of bed, ready to pull on clothes and get back to her territory. The sun wasn’t nearly as strong in the spring; she’d be fine in the car if she took precautions.
“Where are you going?” Zuri’s voice was low and alluring, but Elena didn’t let it seep into her bones where it would obscure her judgment. “We can’t leave until sunset,” she added as if it was Elena’s first day on Earth.
Without looking back at her, Elena opened a dresser drawer, on the hunt for something clean. She couldn’t trust herself not to be tempted by the two nude bodies strewn over each other on Zuri’s bed. She had too much to get back to. Too much to figure out. To avenge.
She had to go.
“Maybe you should get some rest before we leave,” Marisol suggested, tone sweet but voice hoarse. An addictive combination.
No. She had to focus. She’d already lost so much time. Had it been a few days? A week? Time had always been harder to track when she was in Zuri’s home.
The mattress squeaked under shifting weight and Elena’s traitorous body wanted to look. To see.
“She doesn’t want to sleep,” Zuri whispered, and Elena was sure the soft words had landed on the column of Marisol’s neck. “Lying down too long makes her feel like she’s dead.”
Lips grazed hot skin and a spike of norepinephrine and serotonin filled the room. Elena stopped rummaging in the drawer.
“Shall we make her feel so very alive?” Zuri teased and Marisol sighed and Elena couldn’t talk herself out of turning her attention back to them.
Zuri was lying behind Marisol, her hand was wandering over Marisol’s trembling belly. Holding her like the painting Elena had in her Venice estate: Cleopatra biting a lover. Zuri knew exactly what the pose would do to her.
Zuri’s teeth scraped over Marisol’s neck and Elena felt the artery as if it was beating against her own tongue. Fuck. Why did she always play so dirty?
Palm gliding up her chest, Zuri hovered over Marisol’s already hardening nipple. She teased her with the promise of her touch, Marisol arching into her, eyes half-lidded and silently asking for more.
Elena’s doubts about Marisol’s ability to keep up had been obliterated the night before, but she was still pleasantly surprised at how well she kept pace with them. One thing she and Zuri had never failed at was unquenchable passion. She’d never expected to find a partner that could match them. Especially not one with such a deceptively sweet exterior. She hated how cliché it was to like that, but there she was.
As the tip of her tongue ran along the shell of Marisol’s ear, Zuri teased Marisol’s nipple with nothing but her fingertip. A ripple of heat pulled at Elena just as Marisol moaned, her cute ass rolling backward into Zuri.
Balling her fists like she might challenge her lust to take it outside, Elena resisted the urge to dive in between them. She couldn’t let herself be distracted, but she couldn’t find the will to leave.
“Can I mark you?” Zuri whispered so low it was little more than a movement of lips, but Elena heard it through a loudspeaker. Heard it in the heat spreading low in her belly. In her growing arousal.
Damn it, Zuri.
“Please,” Marisol moaned her response because they’d decided to work in concert to break her. “Mark me, baby,” she begged, breath already ragged. “I’m yours.”
Zuri glanced up at Elena, eyes dark and sinful, mouth in a grin. When she bit into Marisol’s neck with enough force to bruise, Elena felt the skin give under her fangs. Fangs that had extended of their own accord while she watched Zuri generate pressure with her mouth. She watched her roll Marisol’s nipple between her fingers. Watched Marisol moan while grinding her ass harder into Zuri.
When Zuri released Marisol’s tortured skin, blood already rushing to the surface and forming an unsightly bruise, Elena pressed her toes to the floor. She forced herself not to move. Not to give in. But she couldn’t exactly remember why she wanted to leave.
“Tell me what you want,” Zuri whispered against Marisol’s neck, gaze on Elena unflinching, hand ghosting over Marisol’s skin.
In anticipation, Marisol parted her thighs. As soon as Zuri’s deft fingers disappeared between them, Marisol gasped as if she’d never been touched before.
“I want you on top of me,” Marisol moaned, already panting. Already wet, Elena knew with the same certainty that she knewher own name. She’d turned out to be surprisingly insatiable for someone so inexperienced.
As a reward, Zuri grabbed her jaw and turned her head back toward her. When she kissed her deep and slow, Marisol’s athletic body trembled.
Fuck.