← Back
“Do you remember what you said to me at the wedding?”
Her hands stopped dead on my arse.
“Mark.”
“You said, ‘If she ever gets bored of you, I won’t.'” I kept my face in the cradle. Easier that way. “I’ve thought about it more than I should have.”
For a long moment there was nothing but the hum of the heater and the soft whale music she’d put on. Then she let out a shaky breath.
“I was drunk.”
“Were you?”
“Not that drunk.” Her hands started moving again, slower now, firmer, kneading my glutes in deep circles that pulled the towel lower with each pass. “That’s not fair, bringing it up while you’ve got me with my hands on your arse.”
“You put them there.”
“It’s a glute release. It’s legitimate.” Her thumb slid down the crease where my thigh met my arse, oiled and slow, and my hips twitched against the table. “Mostly legitimate.”
My cock was throbbing, trapped and leaking against the sheet. She leaned over me, and I felt her breasts press soft and heavy against my shoulder blade for one long second before she straightened.
“This is a terrible idea,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“Helen is my sister.”
“I know.”
“So why are you so fucking hard right now? Don’t lie. I can see you grinding.”
I was. I hadn’t even noticed. Her voice had gone low and rough, nothing professional left in it at all.
→ I roll over and let her see exactly what she’s doing to me