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“I’d say you’re pretty full of yourself,” Billie said, breath finally coming back.
“Well, I’d say—” began Jules.
But she didn’t get a chance to finish. Billie was already on her, flipping her, twisting her until she was lying on her back and Billie’s long, dark hair was trailing down over her. It was like being lost in a forest.
“You can’t judge yourself before I’ve had a chance,” Billie said. “You’ve got nothing to compare it to.”
“I don’t?” Jules asked, then she gasped as Billie’s soft, long fingers parted her thighs.
“You don’t,” said Billie.
“Oh God,” said Jules as Billie’s fingers parted her folds and found the wetness inside. “Oh God,” she said again as Billie started to move her fingers.
“Years of violin playing does give one strong fingers,” Billie murmured. “Dexterous too.”
“Uh-huh,” said Jules, closing her eyes and losing herself in the feeling of Billie taking her.
Billie leaned in closer until their bodies were touching and there was warmth and softness there. Jules buried her head in Billie’s chest as Billie’s fingers continued to work, gasping and sighing as Billie found pleasure point after pleasure point, as Billie gently coaxed her towards climax.
Then, with a cry, she was losing herself, clenching her thighs against Billie’s hand, grabbing at Billie, pulling her close so that she could smell the saltiness of her skin, so that she could taste Billie as she came.
When she finally relaxed, Billie gathered her in close, leaning in, whispering gently. “I won’t break you either,” she said so quietly that Jules wasn’t sure she heard it at all.
For a long minute they lay in the dark living room, the rug scratching against their skin until Jules couldn’t take it any longer. She rolled up and over, straddling Billie, pressing her wetness against Billie’s stomach. “Don’t you have a bed?” she asked.
“I’ve got a whole house,” said Billie, eyes heavy-lidded with wanting all over again. “Choose any bed you like.” Her hands went to Jules’s waist, pushing her down as Billie’s hips pushed up again.
Jules sucked in a breath. “Uh-huh.”
“Or there’s a couch right there,” Billie said, taking pity on her.
Jules pressed down and began to rock her hips. “Or there’s the rug right here.”
Billie stroked upward, letting her thumbs flick against hard nipples. “That’s only if you can’t control yourself long enough to get to a piece of furniture.” She flicked again, harder. “Can you control yourself?”
Jules, who was already starting to be lost, shook her head and pressed against Billie’s hips, and Billie laughed as she gently gathered Jules up, moving them both to the couch.
Jules forced her eyes open, forced herself to keep eye contact, as she rocked against Billie, feeling the wanting overcoming her again as Billie’s slow, lazy smile spread across her face.
“I could get used to this,” Jules said.
There was only a heartbeat of a pause before Billie said: “So could I.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Billie couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable in her life. The lamp in the corner of the living room was on and she and Jules were draped over the couch, their clothes scattered over the floor. There was a pleasant ache in her limbs as Jules raked fingers over her chest.
“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news,” Jules said, stirring slightly.
“What’s that?” asked Billie, too content to snap or be sarcastic.
“I’ve got to pee,” said Jules. “Which means I’ve got to move.”
“I suppose I could let you get up,” Billie said after a moment’s thought. “But only if you pay a tax.”
“Hmm. How about I bring some biscuits from the kitchen on my way back?” Jules asked.
“Good. But not quite enough,” Billie said, letting her hands slide to Jules’s waist.
