In response, Reagan’s hands were all over her back, pressing her closer as her breaths shallowed. Emboldened, Libby slid her open palm up her waist, over her ribcage and
to the swell of her breast as she sunk her teeth into the nape of her neck.
Reagan’s back arched, lifting her o the tarp as she groaned and dug her nails into Libby’s shoulder blade. The pain was worth it to feel Reagan’s writhing beneath her.
Eliciting such responses was addictive, egging Libby on, urging her to go further.
Leaving Reagan’s purpling, tortured neck behind, Libby continued her descent down her chest. Hovering over the sensitive peak, she waited for Reagan to open her eyes and look at her. As soon as she did, Libby made a show of extending her tongue and slowly circling Reagan’s hard nipple with the tip.
“Shit,” she groaned, gripping the back of Libby’s neck, pressing her closer until she used her entire mouth. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be so good at this yet.”
Libby o ered a wicked grin in response before turning her attention to her other breast. “Maybe I’ve thought about this so many times I’ve perfected the technique.”
Reagan bit her bottom lip before cursing again. “Tell me,” she said with a moan as Libby cupped her chest and ventured lower down her torso.
“Tell you what?” she asked innocently before kissing a line to her belly button. “Tell you about all the nights I spent lying in bed unable to sleep?” Sliding her splayed hands down Reagan’s belly, Libby started to unfasten her belt with deliberate slowness.
Propping herself up on her elbows, Reagan watched her with lust-filled eyes. “Tell me, please,” she begged, and Libby did her best not to smile with self-satisfaction.
With her belt hanging open, Libby unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal Reagan’s hipbones. Running her tongue from the edge of her waistband to the side, Reagan shuddered and groaned.
“Do you want to know what I thought about?” Libby asked, pulling her zipper down one click at a time. “Because I don’t think that’s what you really want to know.”
Reagan’s response was unintelligible as she grabbed fistfuls of tarp at her sides.
“I think you want to know what I did while thinking about you,” she guessed as she sat up on her knees to yank o her pants. “The first time it happened, I’d just watched these videos of you throwing huge pots on the wheel.”
With her pants gone, Reagan was in nothing but a tiny pair of black boyshorts. Libby bit back a curse. Her dreams paled in comparison to the perfection of Reagan’s body. She wanted to stop the teasing and get lost in her, but her concerns about her technical ability didn’t let her. If she raised her arousal enough, then she’d be able to get away with having no idea what she was doing.
Bending down to kiss the thin fabric with just enough pressure for Reagan to feel it but without providing any relief, Libby was shocked to find the material was soaked through. She cursed as her body exploded with heat and ached with desire.
“Tell me,” Reagan pleaded, pulling Libby back from the edge.
Libby wasn’t strong enough to play anymore. “You want to know how wet I was, or how I barely had to touch myself before having an orgasm while thinking of you?”
“You’re killing me,” Reagan confessed before reaching out and pulling Libby on top of her. Her kiss was frantic and sloppy and was nearly enough to send Libby teetering toward the edge as she slipped her bare thigh between her pants.
“Take this o ,” she demanded as she searched for the jumpsuit’s fastener.
Scrambling to her feet to keep from tearing Mary’s beautiful creation, Libby found the zipper at her back and
slipped out of the garment.
“You’re so beautiful,” Reagan said as she got up on her knees and kissed her soft belly and ran her hands up the back of her thighs.
Libby wanted to say that she hadn’t had any time to work out and was a lot less toned than usual, but the words died in her throat as Reagan urged her to stand with her legs parted.
Despite the cool night, Reagan’s hands were so warm as they slid up and down her body, kneading her soft flesh as she peppered her lower half with kisses. Each one was a sizzling nail in her self-control co n.
Libby looked down to watch Reagan slide her underwear down her thighs. When they hit the ground, Libby stepped out of them, but Reagan splayed her hand on her inner thigh to keep her from closing her legs again. No one had ever looked her like that. Like they were beholding a work of art.
When she couldn’t stand another moment of it, Libby reached down and tangled her fingers in Reagan’s hair and pulled her in. The moment Reagan’s lips grazed against her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to remain standing very long.
Teasing wasn’t nearly as much fun when she was on the receiving end. Each feather-light touch was as painful as it was exhilarating. Even R
eagan’s breath against her achingly sensitive flesh was excruciating. She couldn’t stand it a second longer.
Making a fist in Reagan’s short hair, she pulled her away before dropping to her knees and kissing herself o her lips.