Page 74 of Harvest of Sighs (Thornchapel 3)
Auden loved the girl he grew up with. Rebecca enjoys having her around for sex and companionship. But someone looking at the woman she is now and saying mine forever—it would be incredible. Heady. If it were even an ounce of what she’s feeling now in the wake of Emily’s words, it would be worth dying for.
“Pet,” Rebecca says after Emily’s gone. “Do you want to keep going?”
“Yes,” Delphine answers.
There’s a ferocious glimmer in Rebecca’s eyes. Maybe she didn’t like that Emily took such liberties with her. Maybe she’s jealous of the kiss. But she can’t really regret either thing when Rebecca bends down and gives one of Delphine’s nipples a hard suck.
And when she looks up at Delphine, Delphine sees in her face the same desperation she saw all those weeks ago before the gala. A look like she’s about to fly apart atom by trembling atom if she doesn’t devour Delphine right now.
“Anything you want,” she whispers. “Anything. You can do it to me.”
Rebecca needs no further invitation, she’s already mounting the bed and crawling over Delphine. Long fingers find her hair, Rebecca’s jacket moves over her tits and stomach in a whisper of leather and zipper teeth, and then Rebecca settles her pelvis against Delphine’s. The long ridge of her cock lines up with Delphine’s sex, and she gives a soft, ragged groan.
“Pretty pet,” Rebecca murmurs, kissing Delphine with quick, fierce kisses. “Spoiled kitten.”
“Fuck me,” Delphine blurts, and then bites her lip. It’s not her place to demand things, not when they’re in a scene, but it feels so good to have Rebecca there, it feels better than good. For a moment, she feels like a teenager, horny and innocent, just chasing what feels delicious.
And Rebecca’s cock nudging at her pussy feels better than delicious. It feels like she’s being kissed on every nerve ending. It feels like she’s being turned inside out.
Rebecca meets her gaze, and Delphine sees she’s too aroused to argue. “Say your safeword if it gets to be too much,” she says, and then her hand drops down to her fly. One-handed, she frees the pink length and adjusts the harness so the shaft can jut out at the angle she wants.
The sight of the cock pushing through Rebecca’s jeans has Delphine’s toes curling. And when Rebecca fists it to drag it through Delphine’s slick furrow, Delphine thinks she might die. She never thought—she didn’t know—how can something that gets her so worked up have been a secret to herself? How did she not know how badly she would want this? How hard she would pant for it?
“Ready,” Rebecca murmurs, and Delphine can’t tell if it’s a question or just Rebecca talking to herself like she does sometimes when she’s really worked up, and then she starts to push in.
The pressure of it bows Delphine’s back, pressing her stomach and tits to the leather-clad woman above her. Rebecca dips her head to kiss Delphine on the lips, on the soft skin between her breasts, on the pebbled flesh of her areolae, back and forth between them until Delphine is wordless, mindless, trying to spread her legs even farther apart, and failing because her ankles are still cuffed to the bed.
“That’s it,” Rebecca says with a smoldering look. She gives Delphine’s nipple a wet, sloppy kiss, her hips starting to churn faster and faster between Delphine’s thighs. “That’s it, sweet kitten. Do it for me. Feel it for me.”
The pressure—it’s so much more than usual, so much deeper—but it’s not pain, not quite. Delphine’s not sure how it feels, except that every second when she thinks ouch is matched by a following second when she thinks ooh.
Rebecca reaches down to press a firm thumb against Delphine’s clit. “How is it?” she whispers, smiling again as she watches Delphine’s head thrash slowly from side to side. “Good?”
“Yes but—I think, oh God, I think I might need to wee—”
“You won’t,” Rebecca soothes. Her dick doesn’t stop, her thumb doesn’t stop. Everything below Delphine’s navel feels strung so tight that she’s almost scared she’ll snap in half. “I promise.”
“But—”
“Look down, pet. Look at what I’m doing to you.”
She looks down. Over the swell of her stomach she can see the dick moving in and out, shining and slick. She can see how depraved this looks, her spread naked and wanton for a Mistress’s taking, and she can see how much Rebecca likes it. She can see the breathless part of Rebecca’s mouth, the quivering clench of the lean muscles in her belly as she thrusts. And Rebecca is fucking her so hard that one high heel falls away from her foot and clatters to the ground, and she keeps going, keeps fucking with that relentless, insatiable cock.
And her eyes . . . Delphine doesn’t think she’s ever seen eyes like this. Dark as onyx in the low club light, molten as they pore over her. Those eyes are promising so much right now, and Delphine lets herself imagine those promises are real as the pressure between her legs resolves into a rolling, thundering tide and sweeps her out to sea.
“Sweet kitten,” Rebecca says hoarsely, watching Delphine whimper and arch against the advancing pleasure. “Just let it happen. Let it, let it—”
The pleasure breaks, and Delphine’s scream reverberates up to the girders. It takes hold of her—cunt, thighs, belly—pulling everything into its toothy, delirious grip and shaking her in it, like a cat with a toy. She feels at its mercy, she has no choice but to succumb to the sharpness of it and the strength of it, and she thinks she could laugh with joy even as she’s still screaming like she’s being mauled alive.
Rebecca doesn’t let up, she ruts into Delphine until Delphine sinks back into the bed, limp and dizzy, her temples wet with tears she didn’t even realize she’d cried.
“There, there, darling pet,” Rebecca’s murmuring to her, kissing the tears away. There’s some hurried wriggling—Rebecca’s pulling her jeans down past her backside, down to her knees, and Delphine thinks of horny teenagers again, so desperate to fuck they do it in the backseats of cars, in night-shadowed parks, and behind school buildings. And indeed, Rebecca is desperate now—she unfastens the harness until it’s slipped down to her knees and then fumbles with the dildo until it’s free of its moorings. Still wet with Delphine, the dildo slides into Rebecca easily and she holds it in place with her left hand as her right finds her clit and strokes.
It takes less than a minute. A laughing shiver moves through her, and she rides the toy as eagerly as she rode Delphine just a second ago, the leather of her jacket creaking and her thighs tensing and her breath coming in short, happy pants.
Seeing Rebecca come is better than anything. Better than Prosecco, better than a new tube of lipstick still perfectly curved and pointed, better than a good bra, a swimsuit that fits, waking up with good light and clear skin. It’s better even than coming herself.
Spent and breathless, Rebecca falls to her side next to Delphine and slowly pulls the toy free.
