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Y/n Knowles 18
Y/n POV
The bedroom was dim, the only light coming from the muted TV casting shadows across Coi's skin. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching me with dark, hungry eyes. The way her two-piece set clung to her curves made my throat tighten.
"Come here," she commanded, voice low and teasing.
I swallowed hard but obeyed, sitting beside her. The confidence from earlier, from the way she'd touched me, the way she'd made me use my voice, still hummed under my skin. When our knees brushed, a jolt shot through me.
Coi turned, one leg tucked under her, the other pressing against my thigh.
"You sure about this?" she asked, but her tone wasn't questioning. It was like she already knew my answer but wanted to hear me say it.
I nodded, then forced out a shaky, "Yeah."
Her lips curved into a smirk. "Good. Then talk to me. What do you want?"
My breath hitched.
The question was simple, but the answer was everything. I wanted to touch her like she'd touched me.
I wanted to hear her gasp, to see her nails dig into my skin, to make her voice go rough and breathless. But the words tangled in my throat.
Coi leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "Use your words, y/n. Or I stop."
I whined, frustration bubbling up. My fingers twitched toward my iPad, but she caught my wrist.
"No. Talk to me."
I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. "I-I want to touch you."*
Her smirk deepened. "Where?"
My face burned. "E-everywhere."
She chuckled, low and dark. "Good answer." She guided my hand to her waist. "Then do it. And don't stop talking."
My hands trembled as I slid them up her thighs, over the smooth fabric of her shorts.
She watched me, patient but demanding, her breath hitching when my thumbs hooked under the waistband.
"Keep going," she murmured.
I fumbled with the button, then the zipper, my movements clumsy.
She didn't help me.
Just watched, her chest rising and falling faster as I peeled the fabric down her legs. Her underwear was simple, black, cotton, already damp at the center.
