Page 28 of Sapphires and Snakes

Tamayo pulls in a breath, like she’s savoring the moment. Her eyes open and find mine, pinning me where I sit as effectively as her grip. “Okay, princess. I’ll fuck you.”

Her hands move. One finds my pussy, teasing my entrance. The other releases my face to play with my nipples again. And I sit there, gloves holding my hands, and doing my best to stay pliant under her touch. The moment she slides two fingers inside me, her thumb pressing on my clit, I can’t control the contraction of my spine, the jerk of my thighs as they threaten to close. She strokes upward, against that spot that always threatens to undo me, and I moan.

“Eyes on me,” she warns.

I force them open, not having realized I closed them.

“Watch your pussy swallow my fingers. Greedy little thing. And when I do this…” She drags her nails down my nipple, and it makes me clench down on her fingers inside me. She smirks. “You’re so easy, princess. A few touches and you’re putty in my hands, begging me to fuck you.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t when my brain has melted into a puddle of firing synapses all signaling pleasure and there’s no capacity left for anything else.

“I bet…” She pulls out, and I almost complain before she slips three inside me again. “Thought so,” she breathes. “Wet and open for me.”

She pumps in and out, each thrust dragging out slow and drilling in hard. Her palm presses against my clit each time, and I can’t help the rock of my hips to meet her thrust for thrust. She smacks my breasts intermittently, not matching any rhythm. Each one forces a sharp, soft cry from my throat.

“You’re clenching already.” Her tone is mocking. “I’ve barely fucked you, princess.”

“Please, please don’t stop,” I beg.

She quickens her pace. My thighs tighten, but she lifts her knees up higher, spreading them wider to keep me open. On display. She grasps my neck, fingers tight under the corners of my jaw, over my carotid and away from my bruises. Fuzzy pleasure clouds my head as I watch her fingers pump in and out of me, her gaze dark and determined where it watches us in the mirror.

“God, you’re shameless. Legs wide for me.” Her breath is hot on my ear. My vision blurs at the edges. “Taking me so well. I wish I could film you, watch this back when I can’t have you.”

I moan, so close to coming.

“Wet and dirty, the perfect little slut for me.”

“Tamayo.” My voice is a warning.

“Are you gonna come?” she asks.

I nod, my face scrunched and eyes barely open.

“Do it. Come all over my fingers.”

She keeps her pace, tightens her grip on my neck, and arches it at the same time she bites down on my shoulder. When she thrusts in again, my orgasm crashes through me. Muscles tighten all over my body, clenching down too long before they release with a flood of pleasure and cum. Tamayo loosens her grip on my carotid, blood rushing through my veins unimpeded again, flooding my body further. She doesn’t stop thrusting into me, stimulating me. I shudder, hands clenching, toes curling, body clamping and buzzing at a whole new frequency.

Until she pulls out, my arousal coating her knuckles. I breathe heavy, fully relaxed against her, as she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks them clean.

I huff, wishing I was cleaning them for her.

“Good girl.” She tilts my chin toward her, capturing my lips with hers. She holds my mouth open as she licks inside. I taste myself on her tongue and moan. She pulls back, smirking. “Very good.”

TAMAYO

My knee twinges as I rise from the bed. Zarina curls into a tighter ball against the cold air my exit leaves behind. I tuck the blankets in around her, and she sighs in her sleep. Her face is buried too far beneath them for me to see the warm pink of her cheeks or the bite on her shoulder that I can’t stop refreshing whenever it begins to heal.

I wish I could press my thumb into it, watch the color fade and then rush back in. But I don’t have time. I pad into the bathroom to shower then into the closet to dress, yanking on my brace to hug my knee tight. The surgical scar itches as if it’s fresh again, but I ignore it to pull on a pair of trousers then a shirt and suspenders.

I clasp my watch around my wrist as I exit the closet. Zarina’s rolled over and watching me, face poking out from under the blankets and hair fluffy across the pillow. I snort in amusement at the image of her curled into a blanket burrito.

“Where are you going?” Her voice is gravely with lack of use. “It’s too early.”

“It’s eight.” I grab a bottle of cologne off the console table and dab it at the pulse points on my neck.

“Exactly,” she grumbles.

I tamp down a wave of fondness. “I have a meeting and then we have the second mediation.”