her the minute we landed through the door, forcing Cara over the kitchen worktops and hitching her dress up all the way to the waist. I’d seen a lot more than I probably should have, but neither seemed to give a shit, oblivious to my presence as Cara bucked against Rebecca’s advances, yelping little whines as slaps landed hard in tender places.
Noises cut loud through the closed bedroom door. Still. Quiet. Lower, Cara, bend fucking lower. Hold out your tits, Cara, nice and still. Those nipples need pain, baby, they need so much pain. I tried not to listen, tried not to wonder what the hell was really happening in there, tried to think about anything but violent sex and how it would feel to be in Cara’s shoes. I told myself I wouldn’t like it, that Lydia Marsh is no submissive, she’s too goddamn rigid for all that shit. I told myself I’d be too reserved, too self-conscious, too uptight. I told myself I didn’t want to try it at all, but it was a lie. It had to be a lie, because I was burning up in my bed, clammy with nerves and adrenaline, and although I didn’t want to face it, I was horny as hell.
Spread it for me, Cara, show me your tasty little slit. Yeah, sweet girl, that’s it, look how swollen you are. I’m gonna make you feel so good.
I kicked the covers away and stared at the ceiling. It didn’t work. Nothing I did felt comfortable, not until I gave in to the urge and let my fingers wander between my thighs. I was wet, sodden through my knickers. I pulled the fabric aside enough to reach my clit and it felt so goddamn tender it took my breath away. I played quickly, desperate to orgasm, strumming my fingers as fast as I could just to lurch myself over the edge. I came harder than I had in years, jerking and wheezing out expletive streams of pent-up frustration. It felt raw, it felt right. It felt crazy fucking good.
I came down slowly, orgasm-high and floaty, ragged breath loud in the silence.
The silence.
Shit.
It was quiet enough to hear the footsteps outside my door.
***
Lydia
Cara had gone in the morning. I wrapped my satin robe tight around my waist and met Rebecca in the kitchen. She made me a coffee without prompting.
“Crazy night, huh?”
I smiled. “A little crazier than I’m used to.”
“It gets a whole lot crazier than that.”
She was already dressed for work, skinny black jeans and a tight red t-shirt. Queen Bitch, it said. She sure was.
“Cara didn’t stay?”
She shook her head. “We rarely do the whole cuddle-through-the-night thing.”
“I hope I didn’t piss on your parade. You know, by being here.”
“You can piss on my parade any day, baby. Just say the word.” She cackled her trademark cackle.
“She seems nice.”
“She’s sweet... cute... uber-fuckable. Low tolerance though, life’s a bitch.”
“Low tolerance?”
“Can’t take much of a beating. More a slap and tickle, it’s nice, but sometimes a girl needs a little more from her sub.”
I grinned at her. “Sounded more than a slap and tickle to me.”
She put down her coffee, stared me out straight. “So, what did it sound like?”
I looked away, caught out. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. It just carried, you know, through the wall.”
“And how did it sound... through the wall?”
“It sounded pretty rough.”
She stepped closer, and instinctively I shuffled back, bracing myself against the worktop. “The bed squeaks, by the way, in your room.”
I’m sure I flushed crimson. “I.. um...”
She closed the gap, pushing against me to pin me to the counter. “We were right here, Cara arched back right where you are now while I sucked her little clit sore. Did you hear her cum?”
“No...” I mumbled, eyes anywhere but on Rebecca.
“Shame,” she breathed. “I heard you.” Long fingers on my thigh, teasing at the hem of my robe. I could hardly breathe. “What were you thinking about?”
“I wasn’t... I don’t know...” I said.
Her fingers burned my skin. “Do you wonder what it feels like?” She smiled, mischievous.
“Maybe,” I admitted, daring to laugh a bit. “Shit, sorry, how embarrassing. I’m not used to this stuff.”
She stepped away, clearing a space. “Turn around and bend over.”
My stomach lurched. “Sorry?”
“Bend over, hands flat on the side.”
My eyes must have been huge, boring into hers, but she didn’t flinch or falter, just shifted position so her weight was all on one hip. My mouth turned dry, nerves sizzling. “I don’t know...”