Sweet Distraction

Brandy Smile's on the phone when Zafira slips into the room, wearing almost nothing. She stops mid-sentence. The blonde's eyes rake over that nearly bare body, the curves, the heat radiating off her skin. She hangs up without thinking. Zafira stands there, dark hair loose, nipples tight against the whisper of fabric left on her, watching Brandy with a knowing half-smile. Gratitude comes in waves when she moves forward. She climbs into Brandy's lap, palms cupping the blonde's face, and kisses her like she's starving—tongue slick, teeth catching, hips already rolling. Her thighs spread wide on the chair arms. Brandy's hands slide down, fingers sinking into the bare cheeks of her ass, pulling her closer until there's no space left between them. Zafira's breath shudders. She grinds down, wet heat pressing through Brandy's lap, slow and deliberate. Their mouths break only so Zafira can bite the line of the blonde's neck, sucking hard enough to mark. Brandy's hands keep moving—lower, fingers spreading her open, stroking along soaked folds without mercy. Zafira moans into her ear, hips jerking forward again, riding those fingers as they push inside her, slow at first, then deeper, curling just right until she's rocking harder, gasping. Brandy watches every twitch of her lover's face, every flutter of those dark lashes, every way her body tightens around her hand. Zafira's gratitude pours out in sound, in motion, in the way she takes what she's offered and begs for more without ever saying a word.