behind her and move on with her life in whatever way she
could.
She grasped Giana’s hair again, threading her fingers
through the ridiculously soft strands. One hand splayed over
her belly, pushing her into the wall, trapping her there. She’d
never felt so powerless in her life, and she’d never anticipated
liking it. She was wet for it. The evidence was there, trickling
down her thighs in a wet rush.
She wanted Giana closer. She wanted her to make the ache
worse. Brutal. To make it hurt more. To make it stop hurting.
She started by touching her with the hand not pinning her to
the wall. Her thumb did brutal things to her clit, massaging a
small, aching circle over it until Coralyn’s hips tr
ied to slam
up from the wall. She didn’t let her. She kept her trapped.
She finally stopped when Coralyn was panting, when it was
almost too much. She used her hand to part her, opening her
up. In broad daylight, in her living room, up against the wall.
She was naked and Giana was seeing all of her. And then her
mouth was there, her tongue sweeping over Coralyn’s
sensitive flesh, and she forgot all about being embarrassed.
She threw her head back against the wall, moaning, her legs
vibrating so badly that she was glad to be trapped in place.
“Giana… Oh my God…” Oh my God, it’s amazing. Oh my
God, I didn’t know this was possible. Oh my God, please,
more. It was any one of those. It was all of them.
Giana made a sound in response that sounded like pure
longing. It got lodged somewhere in Coralyn’s chest and she
couldn’t do anything except respond to that tongue tracing
over her, to Giana’s hand spreading her apart, to her fingers at