The Care and Feeding of Waspish Widows - Olivia Waite Page 0,97

love,” Agatha murmured, teasingly. She pressed one palm against Penelope’s thigh to keep her spread, stroking the skin a little as she felt the muscles twitching and straining there. With the other hand, she slid the walnut dildo through her lover’s dewy curls, found her opening, and gently pushed.

Penelope gasped, and breathed in, and whimpered.

Agatha pressed on, working the dildo in slowly but surely, feeling out the angles and learning by heart the ones that made Penelope’s blue eyes go wide above her flushed cheeks. Those eyes flashed up at Agatha with clear avidity. “I thought you wanted it fast?” Penelope panted.

Agatha smiled and thrust the dildo fully home, all the way to where the grip on the base prevented it from moving farther.

Penelope’s groan was delicious, low and resonant as a bell.

Agatha’s whole body chimed in harmony. “Fast,” she agreed, “but not too rough.” She slid the toy back and forth, twice, just to hear Penelope sigh—then took both hands away and stepped back from the bed. “Now don’t you move.”

Penelope muttered half-serious curses in protest but clutched at the bedclothes and held still, as Agatha methodically stripped off her own night rail. And folded it. Carefully. One billowing bit at a time. As the hearth light flickered over her nakedness.

By the time she turned back to face Penelope, she was shivering a little—but what really shook her was the open, helpless hunger on Penelope Flood’s face. “If you don’t hurry,” Penelope pouted, “I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Agatha retorted, but hurried back to the bed and grasped the base of the dildo again, pumping it sweetly back and forth.

“Mmm . . .” Penelope moaned teasingly.

But Agatha was done teasing. She gripped the flaring base of the wood and thrust hard.

“Oh!” Penelope gasped. Then: “Again! Please?”

Agatha complied joyfully, building up a steady, relentless rhythm of thrust and retreat, until Penelope’s hips began rising up to meet her and drive the dildo in as deep as it could go. Agatha’s greedy gaze drank in every toss of her head, the flush that spilled from her cheeks and down her throat and over the tops of that bouncing bosom. Her thighs were shaking now, legs splayed and straining, one foot arching up with toes spread as she fought toward the peak of pleasure.

Agatha leaned, down, breathing her words close into her lover’s ear: “Go on, love—you know what you need.”

Penelope let out a soft, choked cry, but her hand dove down between her legs and began stroking the aching flesh there. Agatha focused on the he’s-at-home, fucking Penelope just as fast as she’d promised, until with a final cry her whole torso arched off the bed and she came in great, gasping waves.

As soon as she relaxed, Agatha bent low and buried her face between her lover’s legs. The scents of heat and sweat and pleasure filled her mouth as she licked hungrily, suckling on the tender bud while holding the dildo in place to make sure Penelope stayed filled.

Penelope wriggled and writhed, but Agatha didn’t know there was purpose to it until she felt Penelope’s languorous tongue trace flickering fire against the inside of her thigh. The woman had twisted around until she could raise her head and lick at Agatha’s cunt, echoing the pace of Agatha’s tongue between her thighs.

Agatha moaned into the soft-sweetness beneath her mouth, and spread herself obligingly wide for Penelope’s advantage. They devoured one another, Penelope newly sated, Agatha growing more and more needy as her desire built and roared through the ocean of her veins.

Penelope pulled her mouth away briefly, and there was the gentle chime of glass. Then her fingers were back, oil-slicked, one of them plunging deep into Agatha as that wicked tongue resumed its journey, the tip flicking against the tenderest, most aching part of her cunny and causing her to curse in startled delight.

Penelope laughed knowingly and added a second finger.

Agatha felt herself stretched to the brink; her eyes shut, her hands slowed, and she pulled the dildo free and set it aside on the bedclothes. Greedily, she pressed her cheek against Penelope’s dewy thigh and gasped helplessly as sensations surged through her.

A third plunging finger, almost too much to bear—until the fourth was added. Agatha whimpered and keened breathlessly, shoving her hips back to take as much as she possibly could. There was nothing else in this world, just her heart and her cunt and the slick, solid pressure of Penelope’s hand. Agatha