Eden clutched Jos’ wrist with both hands and she pushed her hand down. Down her belly. Lower, lower. She didn’t stop until Jos was cupping her between her legs, and she was perfect. God, she was so, so perfect. Warm. Smooth. So wet that she was dripping down her thighs, soaked with her desire.
For me. She’s soaking wet for me. She wants me.
Eden’s legs fell open, an invitation. She writhed against Jos’ hand before she even moved it. “Please,” Eden said, begging so sweetly. “Please, Jos. I need you.”
Jos growled, but she couldn’t stop. She was too far gone to even think about stopping. She couldn’t make Eden leave. She couldn’t make her own body obey her commands. She had to have her. She had to taste her. And that word. The sound of her voice. That “please” so breathless, a whimper, a moan, a prayer.
Jos parted Eden’s thighs, spreading her legs so far apart on the bed that she gasped. “Are you sure?” she asked the darkness.
“Yes.” Eden was sure. She wasn’t wilting or fading or trembling. She was panting. She loved having her legs spread open. She knew what she wanted. She wasn’t drunk and she was indeed an adult who knew her own mind.
“Because if I taste you now, I’m not going to stop until you’re coming on my tongue. Coming on my fingers. I’m going to make you come so hard that you’ll beg me to have mercy. You’ll beg me to stop. I’m going to make you come until you can’t come anymore. Until it hurts. Do you understand, Eden?”
Eden did shiver then, but it was from desire, not fear. Her hand pressed against her seam, finding her clit, and she circled it slowly. She ran her hand through her folds, coating her fingers in her wetness, then she lifted her hand, offering it to Jos like proof. Like the most divine treasure in the world.
Jos leaned forward, taking Eden’s hand and plunging her fingers into her mouth. She made a noise in her throat that she couldn’t stop. She was delicious. So fucking delicious. She was a wreck. Hard desire pounding between her legs. Her heart thrashing in her chest. Blood surging in her ears.
“Do you understand?” she asked again, her hands on Eden’s thighs once more, bracing her.
“Yes,” Eden panted. Her head dropped back to the bed and thrashed there. “Yes, I understand.”
Chapter 7
Eden
Eden knew there was no going back now, but fuck going back.
She used to be afraid of the parts of herself that she didn’t understand. She was confused for a lot of her early teenage years before she figured out that she was gay, then she had to come out to her parents and her friends. She had it easier than most. Her parents loved her and accepted her no matter what. She’d lost some friends, but most of them didn’t care. The fact that she was gay was fine. What was not fine, the most confusing parts to her and to most people she knew, was who she was attracted to.
Women, yes, but it was women who were twice her age or more. She’d never been attracted to anyone her own age. Never. She hadn’t dated in high school for that reason, then after, she’d kept all of her liaisons a secret if she could. She learned not to be afraid. Not to be ashamed. She didn’t have room in her life for a relationship, and she was slowly initiated into more casual, but no less meaningful interactions with women who wanted the same thing. A night of consensual pleasure that was meaningful because it was brief and because it gave them exactly what they wanted.
Eden had done things she figured Jos herself probably hadn’t even done. Jos was trying to warn her that she wouldn’t be gentle, or that she liked it dark, maybe even some things that bordered on kinky, but Eden had already been there and tried that. She wanted to know exactly what she liked. She was liberal when it came to trying new things. She refused to feel shame about the fact that she wasn’t made for vanilla, as she’d said.
Jos didn’t want people to find out.
Eden liked to keep her private life private too. She really did understand. Not just the details of what she did in the bedroom, but all things.
She was giving up what anonymity she’d gained by agreeing to go on TV, but she kept telling herself she had an obligation if she really cared. If she didn’t want to be a hypocrite. That some sacrifice was worth the good. That she could stop at any time and fade out into obscurity.
Was that really why she’d agreed to the job?
Or did it have more to do with the fact that Jos was the one who asked her? The one who wouldn’t take no for an answer? Jos Frank, the most beautiful woman in the world. Eden had been lying to herself. She couldn’t lie to herself now. Whisky was a goddamn truth teller and it whispered in her ear, telling her all the things she didn’t want to hear. From the minute she’d sat down across from Jos at that shitty coffee shop, she’d wanted her.
She’d wanted her for a freaking lifetime before that.
Eden didn’t think that what she was doing, what she wanted with Jos or with anyone else before her, was filthy or dirty or wrong. She’d wanted it every time and there was no shame in that desire. If it shocked other people, the fact that sometimes hurting could be good, that there could be pleasure in some forms of pain, then let it be shocking. The way Jos had looked at her as she’d said it though? Like it hurt her, like she didn’t like it about herself? That stung. There was no way Eden had been able to let that go.
She wasn’t letting it go now.
She’d driven Jos to the edge, provoked her, and this was the result.
And fuck, it was glorious.
Jos kissed her furiously and Eden was unprepared for the wild ache that was building inside her. She’d said that she understood. That she was ready. Nothing in her life could possibly have prepared her for this moment.
“We should stop,” Jos hissed, warning Eden again.
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