Page 63 of The Forbidden Fling

She knew that look. Surely, Diana didn’t want to fool around here, did she?

Her thoughts became tangled, lost in Diana’s touch as she explored her with her strong hands, taking her time, her steady gaze assessing every reaction. Faye’s breath became ragged, anticipation already slicking wetness between her thighs. Whatever game they were playing was over. Faye only had one thing on her mind. Keep teasing her like this, and she’d be begging Diana in no time.

Diana brushed hair away over Faye’s shoulder and leaned closer. The warm breath of air tickling Faye’s neck turned her on further, and she wound her fingers into Diana’s blouse.

Diana pressed a kiss to her pressure point before dragging her mouth over the sensitive skin. Faye let out a whimper, and Diana sucked just hard enough to weaken her knees.

“Do you think the princess would approve of this?” Diana whispered.

Her clit pinged, arousal dripping where she needed Diana the most. She swallowed. “I…I think she would, yeah.”

Diana kissed her hard, all traces of softness and teasing gone. Faye welcomed it, gasping into her mouth, her hands threading through her hair. Her whole body held taut, winding tighter with every touch and feel of her soft lips.

Any fears or hesitation she’d had vanished. She needed this. She needed Diana. Nothing was going to stop her.

Somehow, they ended up against the wall, their hands squeezing and caressing, leaving no part untouched. Faye groaned, trying to grind her aching pelvis against Diana’s. Her clit pounded so hard, she thought she might pass out if she didn’t relieve it.

Without breaking their kisses, Diana gripped Faye’s shirt, loosening the buttons one by one with her slender fingers. Then she pressed her lips to Faye’s chest, her sternum, lower with every inch of exposed skin. She cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra, and Faye tilted her head back. Why not indulge? Why not enjoy it? Their time was limited, so why the hell not?

There was a crackle in the distance. Or maybe it was fireworks conjured up by her brain.

Completely dizzy with want, she cupped Diana’s chin, bringing her mouth back to hers. She ached to touch her, to feel her, to see if she was as hot for her as she was for Diana, but she kept her hands on her waist, letting her mouth do the talking.

But then there was the crackle again. Louder. And this time, a deep voice following it.

Oh, shit.

Faye didn’t want to stop. Her body begged her not to. But Diana must have heard the noise too, because she broke their kiss, pushing her against the wall. Another wave of arousal washed over her. The close proximity. Diana’s gorgeous, plump mouth. Those talented fingers resting against her sternum, and what she knew she could do with them.

Their chests heaved together as they listened, breathless, for anything besides the birds chirping in the woods behind the ruins.

When nothing followed, Faye nipped Diana’s lip between her teeth, eager to continue.

“Não há nada aqui.”

A loud crack echoed through the building, and they froze.

“Onde?”

The gruff voice was looking for something. Faye’s Portuguese lessons were finally coming in handy.

“Eu disse-te.” The man huffed. “Aqui não há nada.”

“What are they saying?” Diana whispered, and Faye shivered, still aroused by her proximity.

“He’s looking for something.” A lightbulb flared in her mind. “Wait. What if he’s after the birds?” Without giving it much thought, she followed the voice, using the crumbling structure to shield her from view.

The sound came from the woods behind them. She waited, feeling Diana come up behind her.

“What are you doing?”

“Just having a look.”

A blur of black moved between the trunks, and Faye called out, “Hey!”

The man snapped his head up and sprinted in the other direction, back down the hill. Adrenaline still pumping from Diana’s touch, she didn’t think; she just ran. Clearly, this man was up to no good. Why would he run otherwise? Something had to be done, and for the first time in a long time, she knew she was the person to do it.

She leapt over the roots, weaving between the trees, her open shirt flapping. There wasn’t really a path, and the bushes and branches reached out, making it difficult to navigate.