That was the worry? Frazer rested her hand on Cora’s, which was still on her thigh. She tugged at it. Cora relaxed and let Frazer lead both their fingers slowly over her underwear. Frazer bit her lip at the sensation and groaned softly, her lips against Cora’s ear.

“Cora. You already have.”

“Show me?”

Her voice was low and breathy, and Frazer thought Cora had to know what she was doing to her. This time, Frazer gently guided their hands into her underwear, running their fingers together over her wetness.

“Jesus, Cora.”

When Cora pushed Frazer’s hand away and pushed her own fingers up and inside, Frazer flew up onto her knees and threw her head back. She tried to keep her eyes on Cora, tried to reassure her, but the feeling of her fingers moving so slowly, hesitantly, but with gaining confidence, made her lose the ability to do anything but feel.

It was too slow, achingly so, but somehow that made it more intense, and her hips moved with Cora’s small strokes. When another finger was pushed in, she gasped, and her gaze plummeted down to Cora. “That,” she groaned as Cora watched her wide-eyed, “feels so good.”

Cora’s other hand grabbed Frazer’s hip, moving with it. When she curled her fingers, Frazer thought she could die, just there, like that. She gripped Cora’s hand against her hip, Frazer’s nails biting her skin.

“You look—” Cora didn’t finish, and Frazer barely heard her.

Cora’s leg was bent behind her, biting into her back, and Frazer leant against it, her hips moving faster, as much as she tried to let Cora set the pace. Cora’s hand shifted slightly, her thumb brushing in just the right place, and Frazer whimpered. That thumb pressed down, and everything in Frazer tightened, was thrumming. Warmth spread from her stomach until her eyes slammed shut and she finally came undone on Cora’s hand, tumbling forward, pressing her forehead against Cora’s chest. Her blood pounded in her ears for seemingly forever until dawning awareness told her that Cora’s hand still hadn’t moved, that the other was stroking her back. Frazer’s breathing slowed, and she opened her eyes.

The smile Cora gave from below her was soft, almost shy. “Was that okay?”

Frazer laughed, dropping her full weight on top of her.

She was in trouble.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Waking up with a dry mouth was not a nice feeling.

Nor was the feeling that sandpaper had replaced your tongue.

Nor that one second that stretched forever, the one in which you had no idea where you were.

Slowly, her eyes opened, but only to slits, and the room Frazer was in settled around her. There was no way she dared open her eyes fully, the light slipping past her lids already too much to bear.

As much as she could, Frazer took stock.

So, she was naked. There were definitely no clothes on her body. None. Zilch. She could feel crisp sheets against her skin. Something warm and soft was pressed to her front. And in her hand? That was skin. Last night crept its way back into her hung-over brain.