Eden's Temptation

Chapter Twelve

After the steamiest make-out session in my life, Silver flipped me around to face the mirror again.

She spread my legs slightly, and crept her finger right into my moisture, with no dramatic delays.

With a delighted sigh, I crumbled into her, my eyes tipped to the ceiling. "Fuck, yes."

Silver tutted, and with her other hand, she tugged my chin back in place. "No," she said, biting her lower lip as she located my clit and circled it deliriously. "Watch me, Eden. Watch as I finger your pussy until you come all over me."

I shuddered at the naughtiness, the raw desire pouring out of us both. As much as I craved to touch her, I wouldn't disobey her wishes. She pressed me against her, her heat pooling around me, captivating me into obeisance.

So I obeyed. I watched as her fingers stimulated me, their pace too quick to keep up with. I watched my body responding to her; my nipples so erect and tight they hurt, my thighs quaking as they remained apart to grant her access.

I bent to her will, all my notions of not conceding to my lust evaporated.

The sensation of her hardened boobs against my back only intensified my approach to a climax, but I was desperate to pleasure her, too. Though she seemed happy to be touching me this way, with me admiring her every move.

"Hmm," she said, her voice sizzling into my ear, sending more chills down my spine. "Come for me, Eden. I know you're close; I feel you pulsating for me."

"I—ah, shit." Speaking was too difficult with her lathering all this attention on my center. My legs were numb, my mind fogging over as I lost control of myself.

I felt it too; the climbing, soaring vibrations, nearing that exhilarating high, that finish that'd have me screaming for her. It was there, within reach, it was—

Something buzzed behind me, breaking my trance.

Something like a phone.

"Fuck," said Silver, removing her fingers from my moisture way too quickly. In the reflection, I saw her withdraw and extract her phone from her leggings' pocket. She glared at the screen, limbs taut and one hand bunched in a fist.

I hadn't even felt the device, so focused on her breasts pressing to my back, on the way she'd been busy bringing me to the brink of pleasure.

My clit throbbed with unsatisfied need. I had to finish this off or I'd be tempted all night to grab her hand and shove it into my pants. "Silver?"

She grumbled something as she pocketed her cell phone. "I'm sorry." She winced at me, wiping her fingers on her yoga pants. "This was...inappropriate."

As much as I agreed, I hadn't quite come down from the journey she'd taken me on. I still sensed the ghost of her finger triggering my every urge and sending me off to pleasure-town. I couldn't move, couldn't respond.

"It was unprofessional, and I went overboard, and I'm sorry." She looked down at her feet as she shook her head. "It won't happen again."

What was in that message she'd received? Had it been the interruption she'd needed to remind her what sort of dangerous adventure she'd embarked on? Or actual words of caution, sent by someone who'd been spying on us?

No. I shook myself internally. No one was spying; no way.

I stood there naked, unfinished, confused. And yet at the same time, I understood completely why she'd stopped.

"I'm sorry too," I said, grimacing as I covered my breasts and lowered to pick up my clothes.

She shot me a dark look, keeping her focus on my face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I urged this." I opened my mouth to retort—because I should have put a stop to her behavior, and we both knew that—but she raised her palm. "No, truly. Don't argue."