Page 38 of Serpentine Valentine

“I-I saw in the library.” She cleared her throat but didn’t take her eyes off my fingers playing over my panty-covered sex. “I mean, it looked like you shaved.”

“Waxed. You should feel me,” I taunted, pulling the edge of the fabric down low so the top of my mound was visible, a paler gold than the rest of my skin and as smooth as silk. “I’m so sensitive like this. One touch of your hand, one suck from your mouth, and I’d shatter for you.”

“I can’t,” she said, but the words were more air than sound.

She wanted to. Oh, but she wanted to.

The worst part was how much I wanted her.

I’d honestly wondered if I’d ever feel desire again, yet here I was, exposed on my front porch beside a straight girl, the daughter of my sworn enemy, and I was so close to orgasm. All I needed was a vicious roll of a thumb over my clit, and I’d burst open like ripe fruit.

“It’s okay,” I soothed but not kindly. My teeth were bared, my gaze hard as I stared her down, as I forced her with the weight of my gaze to look at me as I spoke. “I’ll make myself come for you, Lux, but next time, I expect you to get on your knees for me and ask nicely to do it yourself.”

A hard swallow and blown pupils were the only response I got, but it was all I needed.

I didn’t take off my underwear, not only because it was practical, but because I couldn’t bear to be so vulnerable before her or anyone, not now and maybe not again.

Instead, I framed my swollen clit between two fingers and rubbed like that, back and forth as if I was swaying through the binds that tied me down from pleasure.

God, I hadn’t come in months.

I hadn’t wanted to.

But the way Luna watched me, eyes so bright they glowed, demonized with pleasure, made my heart skip and trip. My pulse beat heavy in my belly, throbbing so hard in my pussy I had to fight to match the tempo. Harder, faster, the higher I flew.

Yet I couldn’t do it.

I strained and burned and almost whimpered from the pained frustration.

I was seconds away from giving up, furious and embarrassed that my power trip had somehow failed and made me defenseless when a soft, sweet voice said, “Here.”

Herelike she was handing me an apple.

Herelike she was answering roll call.

But Luna’sherewas so much more than that.

She swiveled on the bench, from leaning away from me to leaning toward me, laying down her head against my shoulder and placing her other hand on the inside of my thigh. She squeezed hard, the pain morphing into flames inside me.

“Come for me, Lex,” she urged, breath hot on my neck a second before she placed a neat kiss there. “I want to watch. I want to know what you look like when you do.”

A moan rattled through my hollow chest, but it was enough.

The feel of her soft body pressed along the side of mine. The way her hand opened and closed around my inner thigh, just inches from my leaking folds. The sharp pant of her breath over my neck and collarbone, the way her lips brushed just a little against my throat.

This.

This was it.

What it should have been like for me my first time.

So sweet and simple and sure.

I broke apart for her then, but it wasn’t a gentle shattering, frost shaken from winter leaves, but a colossal cracking, breaking, demolishing inside me. I lost something of myself to the pleasure, something vital and important like breath. Like I was falling beneath the icy crust of my shields and drowning in that cold dark chasm left where my heart used to be.

For long moments, I couldn’t breathe, coming and fighting to keep everything I was close to me in the chaos that reigned in its aftermath.

When I came too, I was gasping for breath, and my face was wet.