Rosie brushed her thumbs across Jem’s nipples. “Do you want me to stop?” she murmured against Jem’s cheek.

“Oh God, no. Please don’t stop,” Jem said, and Rosie’s mouth closed on hers again.

The house was still cold, and goose pimples covered Jem’s torso when Rosie began to tug at her shirt.

“Shit, hang on. Give me a minute.” Rosie tucked Jem in again and dashed around the room, collecting throw rugs and blankets. She arranged them into a multicoloured nest on top of the hearth rug and beckoned Jem to join her in the middle of it. “Better?”

Jem nodded, tongue-tied and nervous and more turned on than she could ever remember being. “Take your sweater off,” she told Rosie, and Rosie obeyed without question, pulling her hoodie and T-shirt off in one go and wriggling out of her bra. Her bare skin reflected the firelight, and Jem followed the patterns with her lips until Rosie was squirming beneath her. “Lie back,” Jem whispered, dispensing with her own shirt and bra as Rosie lay down and held out her arms. Jem straddled her and put her mouth to Rosie’s ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Rosie swallowed and licked her lips. “You,” she said. “I just want you.”

Jem trailed her fingers across Rosie’s breasts. “That can be arranged.” She shifted lower, kissing Rosie’s navel and the heated skin just above the button on her jeans.

“Off as well?” Rosie asked, clearly trying to be helpful but fumbling with the fastenings and getting everything wrong. Jem clasped her hands and moved them away.

“Let me.” She popped the buttons one by one, widening the fly and then lying down beside Rosie and working her fingers beneath Rosie’s underwear.

“Fucking hell,” Rosie whispered. Her legs fell open as Jem dipped her hand, parting the slick folds and then stroking upward. “Fucking hellfire.”

It was easy to find a rhythm that Rosie liked. She wasn’t shy or quiet, and she moved in synch with Jem, gasping when Jem circled her clit and rising to meet Jem as she entered her.

“God, yes, that, there,” Rosie chanted. Her body suddenly stiffened, her legs rigid but trembling as she came around Jem’s fingers. Jem rode the contractions out, kissing the warm swell of Rosie’s breast as Rosie began to relax.

“Whoa,” Rosie said. She sounded dazed. “The bloody ceiling’s spinning.”

Jem laughed and eased her hand to the top of Rosie’s knickers, teasing the curls of hair. “Fabulous. That’s the effect I was after.”

It took Rosie a couple of attempts, but she managed to roll over and face Jem. “I thought you were all quiet and unassuming.” She took Jem’s hand and played her tongue across Jem’s damp fingers. “And really you’re quite naughty.”