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Lola groaned, disoriented by the painful pleasure she wanted more than anything to chase. But that wasn’t how the game was played.
Regaining control over herself, Lola shoved Carmen backward, stopping when her back hit the wall. Hand pressed to Carmen’s throat, Lola bit Carmen’s bottom lip before pulling it back hard. “You’re going to beg me to let you come. You’re going to say my name so many fucking times, you forget how to speak.”
Pressed against the wall, Carmen smiled with her entire body. Lola could feel it even if she couldn’t see it. “I’m not the one who pretended not to say it the first time.”
Lola kissed her again, swallowing her cocky grin and her misconception that she had any control over the moment. Teeth clashed while Lola’s thigh pushed Carmen’s legs apart.
The sound of stitching ripping, of a seam splitting in Carmen’s pants, was an exhilarating rush of electricity rocking Lola’s nervous system. The gasp that followed, warm and soft against the shell of Lola’s ear, was a match to kerosene.
Lola ignited.
One hand still at Carmen’s throat, Lola used the other to unbutton her trousers. With a jerk, she tugged down the zipper.
Carmen’s sigh turned into a groan, her hips tipping toward her, silently begging for more. The shift. The wordless request. Was a pulse of desire sprinting over Lola’s skin and seeping into her bloodstream.
It wasn’t enough. Lola needed to hear Carmen say it. Needed her to admit that she craved her with the same recklessness shutting out Lola’s rationality.
“Tell me,” Lola demanded against Carmen’s lips. Lips so full and soft and addictive that Lola could hardly stand it.
“Tell you what?” Carmen moaned as if Lola were already touching her, throat pushing against Lola’s hold and willing her to squeeze tighter.
It took all of Lola’s willpower to resist collapse. To resist giving in and whisking her away to somewhere better than a closet in a conference room.
“Tell me you want me,” Lola replied, fingers tugging at the edge of Carmen’s underwear, rough lace rubbing against her fingertips.
Carmen’s response was a kiss. Hard and rough and mocking Lola for even entertaining weakness. “How fragile is that ego, baby?” She whispered, voice sweet and words poison, before kissing her again. “Do you want me to tell you how wet you make me?”
Lola couldn’t resist chasing Carmen’s lips. Couldn’t stop needing to taste her. To follow the rabbit straight into a trap.
“I could find out,” Lola teased, her fingers inching down the side of her inner thigh. Knowing what awaited her there sparked a painful hunger gnawing at her from some place so deep inside of her that it had no name. No origin. No end.
“What are you waiting for?” Carmen’s question was erased by her hand over Lola’s hand. Curling her fingers around Lola’s, she pushed her own underwear aside.
Before Carmen moved Lola’s fingers to where they both knew she wanted them, she hovered her lips over Lola’s. “Tell me you want to know if you turned me on,” Carmen whispered like an incantation. “If you made me so wet that I’m dripping—”
Lola slid her fingers in through the side of Carmen’s underwear, cutting off her teasing. Finding the undeniable evidence of Carmen’s desire.
“Fuck,” Carmen cried, hips bucking hard, pressing her slick arousal to Lola’s suddenly trembling fingertips.
Lola released Carmen’s throat, replacing her hand with her mouth. Kissing Carmen’s neck, her jaw, her lips. Finding them hot and hungry and desperate for her.
Dropping her forehead to rest on Carmen’s shoulder, Lola focused on the sensation of her gliding over her fingers. Of her pushing fast, arousal slick and clit hard, as she alternated between circling the stiff point and letting it slip between her fingers.
“Do you like that?” Lola groaned despite herself.
“No,” Carmen’s response was trapped between a moan and a sigh. “Do it harder.”
Doing the opposite, Lola pulled back. Softening her touch, barely grazing Carmen as she held herself out of reach.
“I told you, you’d beg,” Lola reminded her, wishing she could watch the expression on Carmen’s face. She could almost see it in her mind’s eye. See her forehead creased and her mouth parted in a silent cry.
Carmen stopped squirming. In a flash, she went from helplessly pinned to a wall to hands moving at blinding speed.
Lola was on the floor. On her back. Before she could process what Carmen was doing.
Straddling her face, knees on either side of her head, Carmen’s mouthwatering arousal was suddenly a breath away from Lola’s mouth. When had she taken off her pants? Lola had lost time in the strange void, along with her senses.
“We’ll see who begs for what,” Carmen said into the dark, into Lola’s mind, her body, her aching core.
