Page 61 of Windlass

“What?”

“I said,” Stevie drove into her, drawing long shudders from her as she took her so hard she couldn’t stand it, “don’t come.”

“I can’t— Stevie— I’m so close already.”

“Then I’ll stop.”

“Oh god.” Her body arched as Stevie pushed deeper. “I won’t. I won’t. I promise. I won’t. Don’t stop, please.”

Stevie bit her nipple. The hand that had been on her back took her other breast, leaving Angie to cling to Stevie for support, and lifted her shirt free. Stevie released the nipple she’d been teasing at the end of a long pull with a wet, lewd pop that jerked her hips.

“Holy hell.” Stevie’s hand stilled criminally as she stared at Angie’s bared chest, eyes softening with longing. “Holy hell.”

“I don’t think hell is supposed to be holy.”

“Shut up. I’m busy.”

Angie moved her hips. “Multitask?”

“No. Be good and wait.”

If Stevie felt her clench at those words—as she undoubtedly did—she did not say anything. Her lips moved in something that looked oddly like prayer, and her eyes fluttered back and forth as if she couldn’t decide which breast to focus on.

“They’re not going anywhere.”

“Do you—” She stopped and briefly met Angie’s eyes before returning to her breasts. “Do you have any idea, any at all, how incredible your tits are?”

She did, actually. They were one of her better assets. “Why don’t you show me?”

“I will. In a minute.”

Something warm bloomed in her chest as she watched Stevie gaze at her. The blatant longing, the unguarded appraisal, thereliefin her face as she memorized her breasts—Angie rarely found things sweet, especially when it came to sex, but this was sweet without making her want to shut down.

Thathad never happened before. She’d analyze it later, when Stevie wasn’t three fingers deep in her.

“I thought you were an ass girl,” Angie said, because it was not, in fact, easy to be good and wait without distraction, especially when she could move her hips and earn herself a thimbleful of relief.

“I haven’t seen your ass fully naked yet today.”

“Stevie.”

“What.”

“Please fuck me.”

“Don’t make me tie you up with dirty socks, girl.”

Angie laughed, and it felt so damn good suddenly to be in her own skin.

She’d needed this. She’d needed this for years.

Stevie teased her other nipple with her lips, pausing to nip the curve of her breast, murmuring something. Angie squirmed as her nipples ached for more. Her rapid breathing wasn’t helping. Stevie paused periodically to watch the effect on Angie’s anatomy, and pauses meant her mouth was no longer sucking.

Stevie groaned as she drew Angie’s nipple out again, and Angie arched her back, desperate. If Stevie kept doing that, this was going to be over too soon.

“More,” Angie begged, real pleading in her voice. She’d prostrate herself at this point if it meant Stevie resumed.

Stevie glanced up and slid a fourth finger, forcing her wider, a devastating stretch that reached all the way down her spine. Angie saw the glint of mischief in her eyes that told her no matter how overwrought Stevie might be by Angie’s breasts, she knew exactly what she was doing.

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