Emily slid the cuff links from Derian’s
sleeves and reached blindly toward the bedside table to set them down, never
stopping her soft kisses down the center of Derian’s chest as she bared pale,
smooth skin. She loved this soft glide of Derian’s skin under her lips, loved
the heady sweet scent of her. She pushed Derian’s shirt off and pulled the
sleek silk she’d worn underneath upward, and then there was only the rise of
Derian’s breasts beneath her mouth and the honeyed wonder of her skin.
Derian groaned. “We need to do this lying
down.”
“I know.” Emily’s breath fled as Derian
unzipped the back of her dress, slid the fabric down her shoulders, and lifted
her breasts free of the material. She pushed into the heat of Derian’s hands,
kissing the sweep of Derian’s breasts, just glancing her nipples. “I can’t seem
to stop touching you.”
“Then don’t. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
Derian unbuckled her belt and shed the rest
of her clothes. Emily let her dress fall to the floor in a pool around her feet
and started to remove her undergarments.
“Wait.” Gloriously naked, and completely
unself-conscious, Derian knelt. “Let me do this.”
Emily braced her hands on Derian’s shoulders
and looked down, watching Derian’s hands move on her body. Her thighs quivered.
Her vision clouded. “Hurry.”
Derian laughed softly. “Not tonight.”
“Whatever you want,” Emily whispered,
catching her lip between her teeth as Derian pressed a cheek to her stomach and
slid a hand up her back to release her bra. Derian stroked her hips and hooked
her thumbs under the scrap of lace she’d so carefully chosen, knowing Derian
would see them.
“These are pretty,” Derian breathed against
the sheer fabric. She looked up and grinned her arrogant grin. “For me?”
“Mmm.” Emily raked her fingers through
Derian’s hair, words having abandoned her to the primal language of desire.
Derian’s fingers lightly trailed across the delta of her thighs, stroking her
through the silk. Emily’s hips lifted to her touch. “Derian, take me to bed. I
want you on top of me.”
The plea in Emily’s voice broke Derian’s
patience. She surged to her feet and, circling an arm about Emily’s waist, half
carried her the few feet to the bed. Reaching down with her free hand, she
tossed the covers roughly aside and guided Emily down. When she slid on top of
her, their legs entwining and Emily holding her tight, Derian hungered with an
ache that threatened never to be satisfied. Stripping away the last shimmer of
material between them, she filled her hands with Emily’s warm flesh, tasted
her, drank of her, gloried in her. She didn’t hurry, kissing and caressing her
breasts, her stomach, the insides of her thighs. She lost herself in her and
still the hunger roared.