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It had started with a stupid bet.
Of course, it was Margo who started it. Always Margo, with her stupid smirk that seemed to dig at Sophie in the worst way. The way the sun turned her tan skin a warm shade of gold, how her lips curled around her distinct Southern drawl. Truthfully, the older woman knew exactly how to push her buttons, and unfortunately, never hesitated to do so. Most of all, Margo knew Sophie couldn’t resist a challenge.
(Couldn’t resist her.)
The pair had been nursing drinks at Coyote Joe’s, every flat screen flashing footage from different games across the country. Of course, Margo was dressed like every other occupant of the bar, rocking a Houston Texans jersey with evident pride. The fabric clung to every curve of her body, practically begging Sophie and everyone else to look, but the blonde pointedly kept her gaze forward as she sipped her drink.
Margo seemed to be a big fan of the sport as she chattered on about touchdowns and sacks, Sophie humming politely despite her disinterest, and then she brought up the day’s game: Texans versus Patriots.
Now, Sophie couldn’t possibly care less about football. She had kept up with the Patriots since that was the most popular team back in Boston, but only because it was a great conversation piece with almost everyone. The blonde hadn’t paid a lick of attention to the season since the move, couldn’t name a single player, but Sophie still straightened with indignation as Margo spoke. She defended her hometown team, bullshitting her way through their spirited debate as the clock wound down, and then Margo moved closer.
They were already side by side at the table, so close Sophie could feel the heat of the older woman at her hip, and Margo twisted to drape an arm across her shoulder. It looked like a casual embrace as Margo lowered her head, just two friends trying to converse over the din of the crowded bar, but Sophie felt more like prey than a friend in that moment. The scent of bourbon and strawberries clouded her senses, and Sophie nearly missed the low words whispered in her ear.
“How about a little wager, sugar?”
With those words and the hot breath against her skin, Sophie felt her body light up in response.
“What did you have in mind?” the blonde questioned against her better judgment, unable to deny her curiosity.
“Winner gets to fuck the loser.”
Sophie startled, drawing back just enough to see Margo’s face, but her hand remained a heavy weight holding her in place. She studied the older woman’s practically serene expression, took in the little tilt of her lips and the knowing look in her cognac-colored eyes.
“You’re serious,” Sophie breathed in realization. Margo’s nails drew teasingly across the nape of her neck, and drew a slow shiver in response. Her body flushed without her consent, but she defiantly shoved the bolt of desire away.
“Of course, darlin’. What’s the harm in a bet between friends?”
“Most friends use money, not sex,” the Northerner replied sharply, lowering her voice at the end.
“It’s not money I want.”
She doesn’t say it, but Sophie can almost hear it floating between them.
It’s not money I want. It’s you.
Sophie should push the woman away or laugh it off before they stumbled down that dark path, but her throat had gone dry under Margo’s heady gaze. Yes, there were a lot of things Sophie should do, but all logical reasoning tended to flee her mind as soon as Margo Banks was involved.
Sophie found herself asking, “What’s the wager?”
“Exactly as I said. Your Pats win today, and I’ll let you fuck me with some trashy toy of your choice,” Margo replied casually, not an ounce of shame in her voice despite the crowd around them. “If I win, I get to fuck you, sweetheart.”
Images flashed through Sophie’s head unbidden. Margo bent over the arm of her fancy leather couch. Margo on her hands and knees, head thrown back in sheer ecstasy. Sophie hurriedly took a sip of her forgotten water, trying to cool herself and busy her shaking hands, and turned her head to find Margo still watching her. While she considered it, Sophie knew she wouldn’t seriously say yes, which is what she opened her mouth to say.
“Deal,” fell from her lips instead.
Margo’s eyes sparkled with a dark sort of delight and quickly spun Sophie around. Her arm dropped to curl around her waist instead, Margo’s touch hotter than the sun where it pressed against the blonde’s tense stomach, and Sophie bit back a sigh as lips ghosted by her jaw.
“Game’s about to start,” she murmured, and Sophie dutifully turned her head to the nearest screen.
For the next three hours, Sophie made her way through a few more drinks at her friend’s insistence, but she didn’t argue. The game went well in the beginning, as the Patriots struck first, but things quickly went downhill after halftime. Every touchdown the Texans scored was another nail in the coffin, and Sophie could practically feel the smugness radiating off Margo’s frame as the older woman drove her home. Sophie was far too inebriated to truly grasp the severity of her loss, but it hit her all at once when she awoke to a text from Margo waiting.
12pm at the lakehouse. See you then, sugar.
Sophie had imagined she would have at least a couple of days until Margo came to collect, not mere hours. Panic gripped her like a vice, but she shoved those thoughts aside to ready herself instead. The blonde might not be particularly thrilled about the results of the bet, but she still took the time to shave and shower. Sophie didn’t bother with undergarments since they would likely be pulled off relatively quick once she arrived, and the idea of being bare beneath her skimpy jean shorts sent an unwanted zing up her spine.
Sophie idled around the house for as long as she could stand, but eventually grabbed her keys and left with a huff. She made a point to stick to the speed limit as she wound through the curving backroads, but Sophie still arrived at the special cabin earlier than expected. The blonde lingered in the car, her hand hesitating on the handle. She could go home and pretend none of this had happened, and Margo most likely wouldn’t hold it against her, but Sophie knew she wouldn’t. She was a woman of her word after all.
Sophie finally exited the safety of her car and hesitantly approached the door, unsure whether to knock or simply walk in, but it opened before she could decide. Margo was dressed down compared to her usual attire, her legs clad in skintight jeans and a baggy t-shirt hanging off one shoulder, and already had a drink in hand. The older woman’s dark eyes roved over her carefully, and Sophia felt her nipples tighten until they were definitely visible through her shirt.
“You’re early,” Margo greeted, stepping aside to allow her inside the foyer. “Eager, Boston?”
“To get this over with, maybe,” Sophia retorted, crossing her arms over her chest almost protectively. “Where do you want to do this?”
Margo sauntered closer, the ice in her glass clinking impossibly loud in the empty lakehouse, and stopped with mere inches between them. The drink was set aside without care as the amber liquid sloshed over the rim, then the Texan raised her hand. Sophie held her breath as chilled fingers settled against her overheated cheek and resisted the urge to lean into the sensation.
“What’s the rush, sugar? We’ve got all the time in the world,” Margo drawled, and trailed her fingertips down her jaw to grasp her chin in a deceptively gentle grip. “Unless you want to back out.” Sophie knew this was an out with no strings attached, a lifeline the other woman had thrown out, but she couldn’t find the energy to reach for it.
“A deal’s a deal,” she said quietly, forcing her voice not to waver. Margo’s head tilted to the side as she seemed to search for something in the blonde’s face, but she must have found whatever it was when a sinful smile spread across her lips.
“Alrighty, then. Follow me.”
Sophie fell into stride behind the older woman, trying not to eye the swaying hips in front of her, and was surprised when Margo led them into the study.
“You want to do this here?” Sophie questioned. Her gaze traveled to the double doors she had peeked through what seemed like forever ago. Heat flooded Sophie’s body as her mind conjured images of Margo without her consent, but the feeling was soured by the reminder that it had been Brad between her legs. Thankfully, Margo mistook her mortifying jealousy for discomfort.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We ain’t gonna have any unexpected guests today,” she stated, reaching out to tug Sophie closer by the loops of her shorts. The blonde stumbled into Margo’s space, which subsequently drew her eyes to the other woman’s smirking lips.
“Hi,” Sophia said lamely, and flushed at the quiet chuckle that seemed to sink into her chest.
“Didn’t take you for the nervous type,” Margo remarked, her hands moving to rest on her hips. “It’s sweet.”
“I’m not nervous,” Sophie argued, but the quiver in her voice belied her words. Fingers made their way beneath her t-shirt, and blunt nails scraped teasingly down her abdomen, a far cry from the stilettos from the day before. “Can we just get started, okay?”
“You won’t wanna stop soon enough, sweetheart,” Margo whispered, every word wrapped in her sultry accent. She closed the gap between them, and Sophie was being kissed within an inch of her life. Margo kissed like everything else she did, with passion and an indomitable control. Sophie didn’t even bother trying to fight. She forced herself to be quiet as teeth nipped at her lower lip, but still granted the other woman access, meeting her tongue halfway to let Margo dictate the pace. The bite of whiskey tasted far better than it should have coming from Margo’s tongue, and Sophie chased the flavor like the addict she was.
Sophie hated the way her body reacted as she felt the telltale clenching in her stomach, hated the burn of embarrassment when they parted, and she unconsciously leaned forward.
“You gonna let me undress you, darlin’?” Margo’s hands slipped away from her skin and gripped the bottom of her shirt, but didn’t remove the garment as she peered down at the blonde.
“You won the bet, didn’t you?” Sophie replied almost mockingly. “Do whatever you want, I guess.” A flash of something dark passed through Margo’s expressive eyes, and Sophie knew she was a bright shade of red.
“A temptin’ offer, sugar, but I won’t do anything you don’t want,” the older woman stated, and to Sophie’s surprise, released her shirt. Something close to desperation gripped her heart, and Sophie reacted without thinking. She gripped the hem of her tee and whipped it off in one fluid motion, dropping the fabric to the floor before she realized what she’d done. Sophie’s skin erupted with goosebumps as Margo drank in the sight of her bare chest, the older woman’s roaming gaze appreciative as if admiring fine art.
“You won the bet,” Sophie repeated. Margo seemed content to simply observe her for a long moment, long enough for the younger woman to shift closer, impatiently. Margo touched her stomach again, this time with no barriers in the way, and trailed her fingers upward. Pointed nails left a stinging trail behind as they traveled between the valley of her breasts, and Sophie tensed when fingers curled around her neck. She expected Margo to kiss her again, to claim her mouth like she would the rest of her, but lips landed just to the corner of her mouth.
Sophie tilted her head instinctually, and Margo took advantage of the open space. She pressed soft kisses to the sensitive skin of her throat, no doubt feeling the pulse hammering just below the surface, and Sophie had to bite back a squeak when teeth nipped just so. Neither had husbands to worry about anymore, no one to raise hell if there was a mark or two left behind, and the idea of Margo leaving behind evidence of this encounter flooded Sophie with a rush of unwanted desire.
“You don’t gotta be so stiff, sweetheart,” she said, pausing to nip another tiny bruise in the hollow of her collarbone. True enough, Sophie was practically a statue. Her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles were white at her sides, and the joints popped in relief when she purposefully flexed the stiff digits.
“That’s right,” Margo praised, tugging Sophie impossibly closer. “Relax for me, sweetheart.” The blonde hated to admit how the words flowed through her like a raging river, how her body released some of its tension at the other woman’s request. Margo fell blissfully silent as her lips moved back to her skin, and Sophie bit the inside of her cheek in anticipation as they wandered lower. The first touch of Margo’s lips against her breast nearly made her cry out, but she swallowed the sound. It was harder when the woman took a nipple into her mouth, and practically impossible when Sophie made the mistake of looking down.
She peered straight into brown eyes that were nearly black with desire, all for her, and she swayed treacherously in Margo’s arms at the sight. Of course, the Texan would never let her fall. At least, not to the floor. Margo moved them backward carefully, her lips never once moving from the task of marking up her prize, then hooked her ankle behind an unsuspecting Sophie.
She fell back with a yelp, expecting to splat on the gleaming hardwood, but instead Sophie sank into the plush leather couch. Margo straddled her hips much like the bull at Coyote Joe’s, firm muscles encased in worn denim keeping her in place, and reached for Sophie. The older woman’s palms scorched her skin as they trailed up Sophie’s sides before finally covering her breasts almost possessively.
Sophie’s hips twitched as skilled fingers plucked and pinched her sensitive nipples, and bit her lower lip in determination. Just because her body was responding to Margo did not mean she had to stroke the other woman’s ego. It was just a basic reaction; anyone could get Sophie hot and bothered with the same stimulation.
Margo clearly knew what she was trying to do as she smirked up at Sophie, but thankfully kept her attention forward. The blonde arched when she took an aching nipple into her mouth, the other occupied by torturous fingers, and couldn’t stop the responding moan. Sophie could practically feel the smugness rolling off of Margo’s frame as she riddled the blonde’s chest with darkening lovebites, and she grasped at the cushions beneath her for some semblance of control.
Margo released the nipple in her mouth with a wet pot and switched to the other without a word. She played Sophie’s body like a fiddler, plucking her strings until the cocky woman found the melody to make the blonde sing. Sophie hadn’t felt like this in years, if ever, and she hated that it was at the hands of Margo Fucking Banks.
“Ya know,” the she-devil in question began, lifting her head. “You can enjoy this, baby. I want you to.”
A shiver rolled through the blonde’s body as Margo punctuated her point with a slow roll of her hips. The heavy brass belt buckle gave the perfect amount of pressure as Margo ground against the younger woman, and Sophie was mortified to realize exactly how turned on she was. The seam of her shorts rubbed maddeningly against the slick flesh between Sophie’s legs, and every flex of Margo’s hips pushed the blonde to levels of arousal she hadn’t thought possible.
“You can give in, Boston, I won’t tell nobody,” Margo whispered, bending forward to press a kiss to her jaw that bordered on sweet.
Sophie couldn’t think clearly. Between the rough fabric scraping across her spit-slicked nipples and the pressure between her legs, Sophie felt like a fog had descended on her brain, and the only thing in focus was Margo’s stupid face. Fingers skimmed down her sides until they pressed insistently at the button of Sophie’s jeans, the last barrier protecting what little modesty the blonde had left, and paused.
“May I?”
One green nail tapped at the shiny button. Sophie didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded rapidly in response, but still tensed when Margo flicked the button open. She dragged the zipper down slowly, the sound echoing loudly alongside the heavy breathing Sophie tried to hide, but made no move to take the denim off. Instead, Margo carefully slid her hand into the front of her shorts and let out a rumbling moan as her fingers made contact with the blonde’s embarrassingly wet pussy. Sophie could feel the heat rising to her face as two of Margo’s talented fingers dipped inside her, could feel how easily they entered, given how turned on she was, and forced herself still. She wouldn’t fuck herself on Margo’s fingers, no matter how badly she wanted to come.
“Good god, sugar, you’re practically drippin’ for me,” Margo groaned, her voice deep and full of sinful intent as she withdrew her fingers. A wave of mortification rocked through Sophie at the older woman’s observation, but it was nearly overshadowed by the acute disappointment when Margo moved off her. She opened her mouth to ask for something, not even sure what she wanted to say, but Sophie couldn’t recall a single word in the English language when Margo sank to her knees with a catlike grace.
“What are you doing?” Sophie questioned, only to wince as her voice cracked on the last word.
“Wanna see how sweet you really are, baby.”
She let out an undignified squeak as the older woman pulled her up into a sitting position, both surprised and a bit turned on by Margo’s strength. Her knees were dragged apart, not that Sophie fought at all, and hot hands rested on her tense thighs. The blonde tried not to shake as nails scraped across her oversensitive skin, her hips begging to chase the contact that drove her absolutely mad, and nearly came off the couch when Margo tugged her shorts down in one fluid motion. Sophie expected the woman to dive right in, as she did with everything else, but Margo seemed to have developed an appreciation for torture.
The brunette’s eyes were intoxicating as they took in every inch of the body bared for her. Kiss-swollen lips parted as Margo took in the glistening curls between her legs, a clear sign that she was not so unaffected despite still being fully dressed. It was a heady feeling for Sophie to know the other woman wanted her so much, and she had to swallow down the only word that came to mind.
Please.
Sophie didn’t know if Margo was waiting for her say so, but she must have seen the green light in the blonde’s no doubt glazed expression. She didn’t bother with another smart quip and instead peppered open-mouthed kisses along Sophie’s thighs, fingers gripping her tight enough she knew there would be bruises in the morning. The idea of hiding the marks sent a thrill through Sophie, and her hips rose of their own accord against Margo’s mouth. The brunette moaned in response and pulled her ass to the edge of the couch for a better angle.
Margo’s tongue felt like heaven as she lapped at her aching pussy, and Sophie was aware it had been entirely too long since anyone had gone down on her. Graham hadn’t touched her in months, not that Sophie had particularly wanted him to, but even his best didn’t compare to Margo. She devoured the blonde like a woman starving, hands clamped around her thighs as if Sophie was the only thing holding her down, and seemed energized by the aborted moans she couldn’t fully hide.
Sophie nearly whined when Margo pulled back, her walls fluttering uselessly around nothing, but the brunette only grinned. It was a rakish look, especially when her chin and cheeks were slick with the evidence of Sophie’s begrudging enjoyment, and fit the older woman too well. Sophie’s eyes flicked to the open curtains behind Margo as the sun hit her golden brown skin, and she tried to force away the wave of jealousy as she imagined someone taking a peek. This moment was only for Sophie.
Of course, the ever perceptive Texan followed her gaze, then grinned.
“What, you don’t like bein’ watched, princess?”
“Do you?” Sophie shot back weakly, though she knew the answer before the other woman even opened her mouth.
“I think you already know that one, hon. Not so long ago, you were standin’ outside those very doors, those beautiful baby blues watchin’ me,” Margo murmured, her voice dropping impossibly low before she nipped playfully. “Did you wanna be me, baby, ridin’ pretty boy Brad’s overeager tongue?”
Sophie shook her head insistently, grimacing even as Margo chuckled.
“Oh, I get it,” she said, leaning forward until she was so close to Sophie’s twitching clit. “You wanted to be him, didn’t you?”
Sophie couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips, and closed her eyes to avoid Margo’s victorious expression. She knew the other woman was close enough that all Sophie needed to do was raise her hips just the tiniest bit, no more than an inch, to finally have Margo’s mouth where she needed it most. Unfortunately, the hands on her thighs kept Sophie pinned in place. Even if she wanted to give in and shut Margo up, the blonde was most definitely unable to do so unless Margo allowed it.
“I thought about it, ya know? You on your knees much like this, how sweet you’d look starin’ up between my legs,” the beautiful Texan drawled, painting a vivid picture that came to life behind Sophie’s eyelids. “I imagined how eager you’d be, so desperate to come but so determined too. How stunning you’d look with your sweet mouth on me.”
“Margo, c’mon,” she huffed, nails digging into the leather cushion below her.
“Oh, you gonna beg for me, pretty girl?”
“N-no,” Sophie replied quickly, but the word sounded weak even to her own ears. “Anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?”
Challenge gleamed in the older woman’s dark eyes, and Sophie could only hold on for dear life. Margo’s mouth was downright sinful as she ate the blonde out like she couldn’t get enough, practically dragging the young woman against her mouth. Sophie wanted to scream as Margo’s masterful tongue once again avoided any contact with her aching clit, and ended up slapping her hand against the leather cushion to avoid grabbing a handful of brunette hair.
“Y’alright, sugar?” Margo questioned, raising her head. Her lips were twisted with faux concern, but her eyes were full of knowing delight that told the truth. She knew exactly what she was doing to Sophie, and she loved it.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, shifting as much as Margo’s tight hold would allow, and searched for a suitable lie. “I’m just a bit uncomfortable on the leather.” True enough, Sophie’s sweat-slick skin was sticking to the couch cushions, but it was an almost unnoticeable discomfort in comparison to the one burning her up from the inside.
Still, Margo rose to her feet and offered Sophie a hand.
“How about we move this party somewhere more comfortable, then, hm?” The Texan pulled Sophie up with ease and wrapped a steadying arm around her waist. Sophie fell into stride alongside Margo and let herself be led to the master bedroom, trying not to tremble with the knowledge of what lay ahead. Margo pushed the blonde toward the large bed, and Sophie scooted back against the headboard to watch the other woman with wide eyes as hands toyed with the hem of her shirt.
Margo’s eyes never left hers as she tugged the garment up at an agonizingly slow pace. Her gaze was practically molten as she bared miles of sun-tanned skin for Sophie’s viewing pleasure, and the blonde choked as she drank Margo in. She had already seen the other woman’s tits barely five minutes after meeting her, then again with Brad that one time, but this was remarkably different. This time, it was all for Sophie.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away as Margo’s deft fingers moved to unbuckle her belt and slid it through the loops with a satisfying swish, letting it fall to the floor without care. The button of her jeans came next, then the zipper, and Sophie’s throat ran dry at the sight of black lace as Margo shimmied the denim down her full hips. There was barely enough fabric to call the flimsy thong underwear, but Sophie still held her breath for the grand reveal when she tucked her thumbs under the strings.
Margo’s lips curled into a sensual, knowing grin as the lace slid down her firm thighs. She could tell what her little striptease was doing to the young woman, could see it in Sophie’s flushed cheeks and heaving chest.
‘Try and relax, sweetheart,” Margo advised, stretching her arms to draw Sophie’s eyes back to her perfect breasts. “I’ll be back in a blink.” The blonde didn’t know how to relax, knowing what came next, but she sank further into the downy comforter and waited for Margo to exit the bathroom. Sophie’s entire body hummed like a live wire, and she worried she would combust if Margo kept up her incessant teasing. Shifting her thighs, Sophie bit back a quiet moan. She dipped a hesitant hand between her legs and hissed when she grazed the swollen flesh, her clit throbbing in time with her racing heart.
“Gettin’ started without me, baby?”
Sophie wrenched her hand back, but it didn’t matter with Margo leaning in the doorway, one arm raised against the frame to strike a mouthwatering pose, and a knowing look on her face. Sophie let her eyes wander since the woman clearly put herself on display for that exact purpose. She followed the soft curve of Margo’s jaw and down the elegant column of her throat, lingered at her chest long enough to watch a faint blush rise to the tops of her breasts. Lower to the hips and stomach that had softened a bit with age, though one would hardly realize it. Up the legs that seemed to go on for miles to the thighs, Sophie wanted wrapped around her head, and finally, her eyes settled between them.
Margo had chosen a fairly tame dildo to Sophie’s surprise. It was perfectly average, no bigger than six inches at most and not terribly thick, but the blonde felt a pleasurable zing race up her spine as she took in the lack of harness. A quiet chuckle broke Sophie’s scrambled brain, and she whipped her eyes up as Margo sauntered forward. The blonde felt the world narrowing as Margo climbed up the end of the bed, and her breath caught as the woman crawled toward her.
Sophie felt the strap dragging across her thighs, and then it was in her face as Margo straddled her chest. Sophie felt herself twitch as she took in Margo so close, close enough she could see how wet the older woman was around the strapless dildo, and instead tried to clear the haze in her brain.
“Gonna open those pretty lips, Boston?” Margo challenged, and even though Sophie glared up at the infuriating Texan, her mouth still fell open. The taste of silicone wasn’t the best in the world, but it was hardly noticeable to Sophie as Margo fed her inch after inch of the strap until the blonde’s nose nudged her pubic bone. Neither moved for a long minute, Margo’s fingers carding carefully through Sophie’s hair, then tugged just hard enough to force the young woman’s eyes to hers.
“Tap my leg twice if you need me to stop, understood?”
Sophie nodded the best she could with the cock in her mouth and hesitantly braced her hands against the brunette’s firm thighs. She felt the muscles flex beneath her fingertips as Margo drew back until just the tip rested on her tongue. Sophie’s heart hammered erratically despite the terribly slow pace the older woman chose, and her condition went unaided when Margo forced their eyes to meet. The blonde could only imagine the obscene picture they painted as she let Margo fuck her mouth like she owned it. Sophie internally cursed as her traitorous body responded to her own thoughts, abdomen clenching tight as she grew impossibly slicker, and couldn’t stop the broken moan that escaped.
“God almighty, you’re so gorgeous like this,” Margo huffed, her thighs trembling when the blonde dug her nails into soft flesh. “I think you’re more than ready to take me now, sweetheart.” Sophie wanted to cry in relief when Margo swung one toned leg over and scrambled into a kneeling position herself, unsure what the older woman wanted.
“How do you want me?”
“In every position imaginable,” Margo all but purred, drawing a deep blush. “For now, how about you get on your hands and knees for me, sugar?”
Sophie slowly shuffled down a bit before moving as Margo instructed, drawing up on her knees while her front sank down onto her forearms. She felt the prickles of anxiety across her skin as her brain hyperfocused on the vulnerability of her position, but the feeling washed away when Margo’s fingers traced a heated trail down the blonde’s spine.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” the Texan muttered, her tone tinged with something akin to awe as she nudged Sophie’s legs further apart. Her embarrassment at being so on display came back with a roaring vengeance, but it was short-lived when Margo settled behind her, a burning hand on her left hip to hold her in place. The plastic cock rubbed delightfully against her clit, though it quickly grew too slick to offer any friction, but it didn’t matter when she felt the tip pressing against her entrance, freezing.
Margo went perfectly still once the head of her cock sank inside Sophie, though her thumb still rubbed idle circles into her hip. The blonde adjusted quickly, since she was more than wet enough, but Margo still did not move. Sophie let out a frustrated groan into the thick duvet as she sank lower into the mattress, but it shifted into a broken moan as another inch slipped inside with the change in angle.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Margo praised, her grip tightening. “Take what you want, Soph.” The blonde didn’t waste any time and leaned back into the last four inches without hesitation. She stilled, getting used to the sensation after months with only her right hand for company, and breathed slowly through her nose. Margo waited until the tension bled from Sophie’s shoulders before picking up a sedate pace of shallow thrusts that did nothing but drive the younger woman insane. Sophie could feel every ridge and dip of the fake cock with each slow drag of Margo’s hips, the tip pressing into that special spot when she withdrew, and it was somehow too much and not enough all at once.
Sophie let herself fall forward until her cheek pressed into the baby blue fabric under them and felt the last of her fight fly out the window alongside her mortification. She couldn’t bring herself to care about how wet she was from Margo’s torturous teasing, nor the noises falling freely from between her lips, and tried to squirm despite the tight grip on her hips.
“What’s wrong, Boston? Too much for ya?” Margo inquired, bending over to push her strap even deeper and grinding her hips with a purpose. Sophie couldn’t formulate a reply as the sensations threatened to overwhelm her, not with Margo wrapped around her completely, so she turned her head into the duvet and prayed for mercy. Sophie tried to hold herself together as she slipped a hand over her mouth, but the tears fell anyway, fat drops rolling down her cheeks to seep into the blanket.
Margo didn’t seem to notice at first, still holding her snail’s pace, but she froze when Sophie couldn’t quite muffle a loud sob. The Texan didn’t remove the strap but did lean back just a bit, a guttural moan catching in Sophie’s throat, and brushed a few strands of blonde hair from her face.
“Are you alright?” Margo questioned, her eyes still dark but now glinting with concern. Sophie wanted to say a million things, mainly to assure the older woman she was fine, but nothing even close came out.
“Please,” she breathed, all but begging. Sophie wiggled her hips in search of something as she repeated the word over and over like a prayer, and tried to find Margo’s face through blurry eyes.
“What do you want, baby? Need you to use your words,” the older woman cooed, her fingers coming down to caress her tear-stained cheek.
“Please, Margo, fuck me,” Sophie gave in, letting the desperation bleed into her tone as she said, “Please, I need you.”
Margo let out a strangled noise behind her, then drove her hips forward hard enough to make Sophie howl. There was no more slow and steady, not as Margo fucked her like it was the last thing she’d ever do. A stream of filth flowed from the Texan’s silver tongue, always followed by a teasing bite or reverent kiss to Sophie’s shoulder. It was quickly becoming hard to focus on anything other than the feeling of being filled, that it was Margo filling her, and Sophie knew she was getting close.
“Are you gonna come on my cock, sugar? Just from gettin’ this pretty pussy fucked?” Margo taunted, easily reading the tremble in Sophie’s legs. “You look so fuckin’ beautiful crying for me, baby.”
Sophie’s climax slammed into her like a freight train. It started from her toes and flowed through her veins like the sweetest drug, setting her nerves alight with a fire that threatened to consume her. Sophie was practically boneless as Margo fucked her through the aftershocks, every thrust sending sparks to her still swollen clit, but the older woman wasn’t done with her. She vaguely registered an arm winding around her chest, and then Sophie was on her knees, her back plastered firmly to Margo’s chest. The new angle drove the strap deeper, and Sophie’s legs threatened to give out as the brunette resumed that maddening pace, but Margo held her up with little effort.
A heavy hand on her hip and the arm around her chest kept Sophie upright, and Margo tugged the blonde further into her grip as her head dipped. Her tongue traced the shell of Sophie’s ear before biting playfully at the lobe, and Margo’s low chuckle hit all the right buttons as the young woman tilted her hips back for more. The arm around her chest slowly unwound, but Sophie didn’t have long to mourn the loss as that same hand found purchase again, this time grasping her jaw to force her head forward.
Sophie met Margo’s gaze in the standing mirror across from them, her breath coming in pants as she took in the older woman’s blown pupils and the flush painting her unblemished skin. Her own reflection didn’t seem real, her fair skin littered with the darkening imprints of Margo’s talented lips and teeth, but Sophie couldn’t bring herself to feel her earlier shame.
They were the picture of debauchery, and Sophie was obsessed.
“Look at yourself, sweetheart,” Margo guided, her voice rough with her own desire. “Look how well you’re takin’ me. Absolutely made for me.”
Sophie couldn’t do anything but listen, letting her eyes drop. She watched with rapt attention as Margo fucked into her with devastating precision, sending Sophie to heights she never imagined, and couldn’t help the keening whine she let out. Despite her earlier orgasm, Sophie was desperate for more, just like Margo said she would be.
“You gonna come for me again, Boston?” The Texan taunted, flexing forward to grind against her g-spot with a heady smirk. “You’re already gushin’ around my cock, Soph. God, I could do this every day just to see that fucked-out look on your face.”
Looking back on it, Sophie wasn’t entirely sure what happened. One second she was being held in Margo’s arms, and the next she was straddling the stunned woman, a knee on either side of her thighs, and the strap sliding between the blonde’s legs.
“’m sorry, Margo, I need it so bad,” Sophie muttered, already reaching down to slide the cock back inside herself with a pleased sigh. Margo’s expression was unabashed awe tinged with something reverent as the blonde rode her, and it quickened the pace of Sophie’s rising hips. The Texan met each downward thrust the best she could beneath the younger woman, and Sophie was a bit surprised to see the stutter in Margo’s rhythm when she reached down to rub slow circles around her clit.
“Can you come like this?” Sophie questioned, purposefully grinding down until the older woman let out a quiet gasp. Empowered by the knowledge that Margo was close, Sophie laid her hands on the woman’s chest for stability and set a brutal pace. The silence was filled with the slap of skin on skin as the blonde rode Margo without care for how desperate she looked fucking herself on the woman’s cock, each drop punctuated by Sophie’s blissful cries and Margo’s punched out groans.
Sophie had a one-track mind. She needed to see Margo come, and she needed it now. Sophie angled her hips just so and gave a tentative thrust, delighting when Margo gave her a quiet moan in response. Sophie felt a dizzying rush of power nearly send her over the edge when she realized the position allowed her to fuck Margo with the insert that kept the strapless dildo in place. She knew the little knob would be rubbing perfectly against the woman’s g-spot, knew Margo was close as she squirmed on the rumpled sheets.
“Please come for me, Margo. I wanna make you feel good,” Sophie begged, forcing herself to focus even when her own hips began to falter. She fumbled her sticky fingers between them until Margo’s spine arched hard enough that Sophie feared it would snap, and doubled down on her ministrations. There was no discernible rhythm to their movements as both raced toward the metaphorical edge, and then Margo came with a keening cry that would forever be seared inside the blonde’s brain.
Sophie slowed to a steady rocking motion, eager to watch Margo shiver and twitch beneath her as she rode the waves of ecstasy. The blonde didn’t know where to look, between the heaving breasts that begged for her mouth, or the lips that parted to spit filthy curses in that honeyed accent, so her eyes were constantly moving, taking everything in. The sunlight cast shadows onto Margo’s golden skin, the image close enough to angelic if one forgot the myriad of sins they’d just committed, and the young woman admired every valley and curve of the body illuminated beneath her. Sophie committed every detail to memory for fear she’d never get another chance to see Margo just as broken as she felt.
The Texan finally collapsed back into the rumpled sheets as she rode out the last of the aftershocks, her lips curling around the blonde’s name with a half-gasp, and Sophie felt her own desire return in full force under Margo’s hooded eyes. She began to raise her hips again, slowly in case the older woman was oversensitive, but when she received no sign of resistance, Sophie picked up the pace. She was teetering on the precipice once again, almost embarrassingly quick if she was able to care, and shifted her weight to one hand as she brought the other between her thighs. The first touch against her oversensitive clit drew a soft hiss from between her teeth, but the bite of pain only spurred the blonde on.
Sophie’s motions grew erratic as she chased the pleasure building low in her gut, and nearly sobbed with relief when Margo batted her fingers away. The older woman tried to stroke her clit in time with the wild jerking of her hips, but eventually just kept the pressure and allowed Sophie to grind against the calloused digits.
“You’re a vision like this, Soph,” Margo sighed, her hands raising to grasp her waist like she was afraid the blonde would disappear. “You were made for me, sweet girl, all of you. All mine.”
The words were tinged with a dark edge that should have scared Sophie, or at the very least made her think twice, but she was too far gone to notice or truly care. Margo had consumed her since the minute they met, the final blow to the already shaky foundation of her life, and now the Texan fully owned every part of Sophie. She belonged wholeheartedly to the woman beneath her, the one who drove her up the wall in more ways than one, and Sophie’s orgasm slammed into her with surprising force.
The blonde surrendered to the waves of pleasure that threatened to drown her, unable to do anything else. Sophie felt alive in a way no other drug came close to, every nerve alight as she arched into the fingers digging into her hips. Sophie coasted on the feeling as the world faded into a dull buzz, nothing but the racing heartbeat in her ears and the hands that kept her from fading away until the pleasure faded, and finally let herself fall into a boneless heap at Margo’s side.
Sophie vaguely heard a dull thump somewhere behind her, and then she was being pulled into a comforting embrace. Limbs entwined until it was impossible to tell where one of them ended, and the other began, and warm fingers stroked pleasantly down Sophie’s spine once she’d tucked her head into the crook of Margo’s neck.
The pair basked in the oddly companionable silence, the simple feeling of skin-on-skin, as they waited for the adrenaline rush to fade. Sophie wasn’t sure when she closed her eyes, but it was all too easy to surrender to her exhaustion in Margo’s arms. When she eventually opened her eyes again, the sun had dipped low enough to cast the entire room in a burnt orange glow where it peeked through the open blinds. Warm and content, Sophie could have pretended it had just been another unfortunate dream. Still, that idea was impossible to hold on to for long when she was forced to acknowledge the aching reminder between her legs, not to mention the distinctly feminine arms wrapped loosely around her.
Sophie was careful not to wake the older woman as she shifted, not wanting to pop the peaceful bubble just yet, and let herself admire freely. Even in sleep, Margo was still devastatingly beautiful. There was no harsh edge of arrogance, no assured tilt of her lips or teasing glint in her eyes that usually made Sophie’s blood boil and heart race. Instead, with her lips parted adorably and hair a mess from the blonde’s own hands, Margo had never seemed so peaceful, nor so captivating bathed in the light of golden hour.
Sophie didn’t realize she had moved until her fingertips met warm skin. She froze, searching Margo’s face for any sign she’d woken up, but the older woman didn’t move. Sighing in relief, Sophie let her hand linger. She trailed her fingers across the soft curve of Margo’s jaw, paused below the lips she’d come to know so well, and couldn’t help but sigh again, this time with resignation.
“I wish I didn’t want you,” Sophie whispered, “but I do, Margo. I want you so much it feels like I’m going crazy.” She let her head fall a bit, eyes falling shut as the weight of her confession settled heavily inside her chest.
Sophie had known it meant nothing before she ever stepped through the door, had always known, because that’s all it could ever be. They would have to return to the real world eventually, pretend like nothing had happened as they worked through a divorce and funeral planning, respectively, but the blonde didn’t know how. How, when every road Sophie took seemed to lead back to Margo?
Sophie tried to withdraw her hand to regain some of her tenuous self-control, but she didn’t get the chance. Margo’s hand moved at lightning speed to grab hers in a grip bordering on painful, the blonde’s fingers still resting just below full lips. Sophie could hardly breathe as they held eye contact for seconds that seemed to span an eternity, and then she spoke.
“Stay?”
It was a question, not one of the usual demands that often came from Margo’s damning mouth, and it was real. No bravado, or arrogance. Just Margo, her tone softened with a sort of vulnerable desperation in her eyes that tugged at Sophie’s heart. She was at a loss for words, a common occurrence as of late, and struggled to find something to say.
Sophie knew she should retrieve her clothes from the study and leave that godforsaken lakehouse behind, maybe even the town if she was honest. She should drive back to her little neighborhood and try to fix her marriage for the sake of her son, if not her sanity. She should convince her husband to move back home, put a couple of hundred miles between them and Maplebrook as if that would fix them, and, most of all, she should definitely forget Margo Banks.
Unfortunately, Sophie also knew that what she should do and what she was going to do were very different things.
“I’ll stay,” Sophie murmured, and felt the final nail in the coffin when Margo gave her a smile so sweet it could make an angel weep.
Maybe, just maybe, damnation wasn’t so bad.