Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore
“You’re mine. Let me have you.”
Aria’s head tipped back against the cupboard, her eyes fluttering shut. She couldn’t form a reply; her hips were already moving into Jules’ hand, chasing for more pressure, her insides clenching around her fingers.
“You’re dripping,” Jules whispered, her tone low, dark, teasing. “You wanted this… didn’t you, sweetheart?”
Aria whimpered, nodding, head falling back as her leg tightened around Jules.
Jules angled her fingers just right and Aria cried out. Her body shook, thighs tensing, and when she came, it gushed — hot, intense, messy.