My #fuckmefriday post :: #thief
As I am working remotely this weekend, i can’t add this to my #fuckmefriday post, so I will post it here for now and update when i can….
Sophia. I sat on the floor of her studio, back pressed tight against the wall, using the rough edges of the brick to define my awareness. My vision strayed to the folding screen that hid her body from me, sliding up, over, and down its sharp edges as if I might find an answer there.
Nothing. Not a whisper. And the vision of my best friend bound to her bed, writhing under my hands, my mouth, screaming my name in a way i never thought i wanted to heat. . . It played over and over through my mind like a skipping record.
A key turned in the lock, metal grating against metal and dragging across my nerve endings. The door swept open and I listened as the last person I wanted to see entered.
“Where are you?”
I pressed my eyes shut with my fingers, pushing until white bloomed like frost across my vision. “Here.”
“Sophia?” That voice dipped, followed by the soft cadence of bootheels across the floor. My hair snagged on the wall behind me and I used the pain, letting it sparkle through me, pulling me into myself. I could still taste her on my lips, a salty honey sweet confection. I wanted more.
My eyes dragged open, pulling against fine threads of guilt anchored one by one to my eyelashes. “I don’t really know.” Waves of ebony hair framed a classic face with high cheekbones and green eyes that missed nothing. Her lips thinned as she pressed them together. Catherine walked towered the kitchen. I followed. One didn’t ignore this woman.
She poured two tumblers of whiskey and leaned against the counter, cradling hers. I walked to her side, every action weighted by what I’d done. Her patience stretched, spidersilk thin and effective. I began to speak, sating down into that shimmering liquid.
“Sophia didn’t want to be alone tonight. She called me. I came over for dinner.”. The memory washed over me. Sophia answering the door, flushed, serene, and moving with a sensual edge that curled through me, staining my pulse with the throb of desire.
I’d never looked at my friend that way, never caught aught of any attraction between us, until she answered her door in Catherine’s shirt and cuffs wrapped around her wrists.
Did I stop speaking? I don’t know, but the woman answered my unspoken question.
“She asked me to leave them on. To come back after my dinner meeting and see that she was still wearing them.”
A low sound drew my gaze and I met her eyes. “She’s still wearing them,” I said. In fact she was still tied to the bed by them. Feral want flared and Catherine’s expression shifted into something that bordered on anger.
“Did she ask you to fuck her, Mya?” She was suddenly very close.
“No,” I exhaled, twisting away without thinking. She followed my movement, effectively pinning me against the countertop. “It wasn’t anything done on purpose, Catherine . . .”
My ability to find any more words disappeared when she slide her fingers over my shoulder and around my neck. My breath stuttered and my heartbeat doubled. A deep throb beat through my body, settling between my thighs. I still wanted, still felt the keen edge of arousal pulsing through me. I’d fucked Sophia, taken her rough and hard with a sharp passion I had not known I possessed the ability to experience.
But I did not go the final length and order my submissive best friend to please me. I had not felt right.
“You are a thief, Mya,” Catherine whispered, her lips close to mine. “you’ve stolen my pleasure tonight, fucked my girlfriend, left her a spent mess in our bed.”. I trembled in her grasp, aware on a primal level that ever nerve in my body was reaching for this woman, someone I had never had much in common with.
She cut me off, slanting her mouth to mine. It wasn’t so much of a kiss as an assault. She plunged into my mouth, stabbing me, taking retribution the roman way, an eye for an eye. And suddenly, with a clarity i couldn’t fathom, i knew she would take me tonight with a thoroughness I’d never experienced before. I, the thief, would let her extract repayment in anyway she wanted.
“Good girl,” she murmured against my lips.
“Thank you.” Sophia’s voice accompanied the slide of a blindfold over my eyes and my stomach lurched. And i wondered, in the slice of space before they pinned me between them, if I wasn’t the thief but the prey, lured to their bed.
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