Page 73
Story: Backhanded Compliments
Juliette slides to the side, pressing one leg between Luca’s and nudging her knee against her center. Pleasure jolts through Luca, and she knows she’s dripping onto Juliette’s leg. The thought is agonizingly hot.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Juliette murmurs. Then her head dips down, and she swipes her tongue across Luca’s hardened nipple as if she’s eating ice cream.
It has been an embarrassingly long time since Luca had any form of release beyond her hand and vibrator. She shudders as her clit throbs, barely enough stimulation on it, but enough that she tilts her hips and widens her knees for more.
“Could you come from this?” Juliette asks, pensive as if she’s just considering what to eat for dinner. Then she swirls her tongue, and Luca curses.
“I don’t know,” Luca whispers, the edges of her mind becoming hazy. It could have been thirty seconds since they started or six hours, she has no idea.
Juliette shifts to Luca’s other nipple, sucking her mouth over her breast, while rolling her fingers over the nipple she’s just abandoned. The competing sensations have Luca arching and squirming. “God, you’re soaked,” Juliette says as she lifts her head.
Luca can’t figure out a response in any language, and she’s barely able to keep a whine from escaping her throat. Juliette shifts down between Luca’s parted thighs and slides her arms underneath, fingers bruising against her skin. Juliette looks up at her with a gleam in her eyes and seductively tracing her lips with her tongue.
“Juliette,” Luca breathes as Juliette dips her head and breathes over her hot core. Luca whimpers. Juliette kisses and swipes her clit with her tongue, keeping the touches light.
“Fuck,” Luca moans as Juliette’s tongue plunges into her, curling and curving against her walls. Luca claws her fingers into Juliette’s hair. The pleasure builds, impossible to stop, like a tsunami of sunlike pleasure.
Her hips buck, her thighs trembling, but Juliette doesn’t let up until the waves crash and Luca is shot into oblivion. Pleasure sears every nerve, and she arches so hard she thinks her back might snap in half. Juliette sucks and licks and tongues her through every wave before pulling back.
“God, Luca, you should see yourself. You’re so sexy.”
Luca’s skin is on fire, and she only wants to douse herself in more gasoline. This must be what people mean when they say soulmate sex is the best.
Juliette slowly lowers her thighs back to the mattress and massages Luca’s trembling muscles. Luca whines, grabbing Juliette’s shoulders until she finally leans up to kiss her. Luca didn’t think tasting herself on Juliette’s tongue would be hot, but her stomach coils and she groans against her mouth.
Juliette nuzzles their noses together. “You’re so loud.”
Luca’s eyes fly open, and she knows she’s blushing all the way down her neck to her chest. “Sorry.”
Juliette shakes her head. “You are so fucking sexy. I want to hear it all.” She kisses her again, soft and tender, a barely there brush of their lips.
Then, Juliette’s fingers are sweeping across her clit, tapping with gentle pressure, and Luca gasps. “Please.”
Juliette smirks. “Patience, Luca Kacic.”
TWENTY-NINEJULIETTE
Watching Luca fall apart, writhing and whimpering and unable to form a coherent sentence, is immediately addicting.
Luca’s head twists from side to side, mouth bitten bright crimson and shredded by her own teeth. She keens and mewls, begging for more, begging for less. At some point while she’s edging Luca, a distant part of Juliette realizes that she is thoroughly ruined for anyone else. She’s becoming attuned to Luca’s whimpers and moans, to the flex of her stomach and the tremble of her thighs, to the way she likes to be touched.
And more importantly, Luca never asks her to stop. Juliette can’t help but lean down and lick Luca’s mouth, swallowing all the tiny sounds she’s making. In a streak of heat, she realizes she never wants anyone else to hear Luca make those beautiful sounds. She never wants anyone else to touch Luca like this.
She is mine,Juliette thinks, strangely possessive.
The thought should scare her, but it doesn’t.
“Juliette, please,” Luca whimpers as Juliette grinds the heel of her hand into Luca’s clit and brings her to the edge without pushing her over. Luca’s face is blotchy, sweat dewed on her forehead and in the hollow of her throat, but Juliette has never been so turned on in her whole life.
Luca is beyond gorgeous. She is sex-hazed, needy, and desperate for Juliette to touch her. “Please, let me,” she rasps, blunt nails scratching into Juliette’s scalp. She wishes Luca would pull.
“Yes,” Juliette whispers, dotting kisses along Luca’s hips. “Comeon, you’ve earned it.” She lets it build slowly this time, making note of the way Luca’s thighs shake so hard she’s almost vibrating, and her breathing stutters. Juliette drives three fingers into her, and Luca clenches down on them. Her lashes flutter, clumped together, and her mouth opens into an obscene moan.
Her hands clench into the sheets, the muscles and veins in her forearms popping, her back arching like a bow off the bed as the tension snaps, shimmering tears streaking down her temples. Juliette strokes her through the orgasm with her thumb angled against her clit. Her wrist cramps, but she doesn’t care when Luca looks that good coming around her fingers, gushing hot and beautifully slick. Juliette can almost feel the phantom sensations as she strokes Luca through her orgasm.
Luca slumps, boneless and relaxed. Juliette roots around in her backpack for wipes and cleans them both, quickly but gently. Luca is completely lost in the drifting clouds of postorgasm haze.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, kissing Luca’s sweaty forehead.
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